Page 121 of For Dear Life

“The Spring Ball doesn’t stop when the music does!” she says, and I cringe. “But your tiara. Did you lose it?”

“Where are Grayson and Rowan? I’d like to show them Leif. They only glimpsed him before.”

Leif chuckles. “Like I’m a rare specimen?”

“You are. Half-shifter.” His smile slides away. “Oh. Still a problem?”

An ear-splitting whine from a guitar shoves me backwards, and I look in alarm at the stage. Are these guys students? Because the band’s musical prowess is as lacking as the posturing male singer’s vocal talents.

“Good grief,” I mutter. “I am not setting foot in there again. Leif. Find Rowan and Grayson.”

“Promise you won’t run off.” he says. Leif’s only half teasing and I’m only half truthful when I agree not to.

41

ROWAN

We sit outside, beneath the lights strung across the entrance below the banner. Well, I stand because that wall is bloody cold, but Violet barely budges an inch since she plonked herself there, still griping about the missing tiara. After her whirlwind tour of the dance where she examined every person she came across, we had to guide her away before she started lining up suspects to grill.

“Should we leave?” I ask. “We could have a couple of drinks somewhere? Celebrate Leif’s return?”

“Alcoholic?” she asks.

“Of course,” I say.

Leif grins. “Good plan.”

“Hmm.” Violet knocks the heels of her boots together. “I’d like to spend time together, but not if you’re all inebriated.”

“Either that or we stay here and watch everybody who comes and goes, in case they have the missing tiara,” says Grayson cautiously. “All night.”

“I’m sure someone stole the thing to annoy you, Violet,” says Rowan. “We’ll find the tiara again. They’ll dump it somewhere.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not, but I will not be impressed if the tiara is now permanently missing.” She stands. “I’d like to get out of this awful dress.”

I’d like to get Violet out of that ‘awful dress’. If Violet knew how many times I’d already imagined that tonight, she’d be pissed. Violet well knows that I don’t dare objectify her, but I can’t help the way my mind wanders when she’s with me, let alone when she looks so bloody stunning and smells so amazing.

Fortunately, the small amount of telepathy that’s happened between us hasn’t accidentally included any of these thoughts. In fact, we avoid testing the telepathy theory—Violet states that the idea freaks her out too much, and I admit I’m not keen on anybody inside my mind.

But a telepathic link could prove useful if we’re ever in a situation like the warehouse again. Let’s face it, we’ll need to practice the skill for that reason alone. Eventually.

I never believed Josef would kill me. The man has plans and wants to watch Dorian fall. To do that, he’d need to avoid placing himself as one of Violet’s victims. But he took a risk, because I saw how Violet’s whole demeanor switched when our bond reacted to my life in danger.

Personally, I never want to face an enraged Violet—the black pitted eyes, blood streaking from her nose, and a mouth filled with sharper teeth were bad enough, but I struggled hard to connect to the girl beneath, as her primal fury swirled as thickly as the shadows that grew around me.

She held back, which means I still haven’t seen Violet in full-blown, Dorian-esque, psycho mode.

Violet changed after that night; things didn’t bounce off her the same as usual, and she disappeared back into herself. The last couple of weeks left me with a quieter girl, who barely rose to the occasion when I attempted to draw her into some verbal sparring. I would’ve let Violet win, but she’s retreated back into her ‘literal’ world with no patience for nuances, instead shutting things down. I cautiously asked if my using shadows worried her and she bluntly asked if they’d left me again.

Truthfully, yes.

But the shadows are closer than they were.

Wherever Josef Petrescu went after tricking himself away from the scene, he took my secret with him. I’ve promised, again, not to use the shadows unless a last resort, but I now understand Violet’s fear of something existing inside that she can’t fully control. Violet has her dark part. I’ve encouraged mine.

Since the day I lost my shit with her after we left Leif at the station, something shifted. Did I get through to Violet about how her behavior affects others, or is she learning herself? Either way, Violet occasionally reminds herself to check if I’m okay with what she asks me to do. Usually after I go thin-lipped and give her a pointed look, but one step at a time, I guess.

Violet never stepped back from the new union that day, emotionally or physically, but neither have we moved much further on. But Violet expresses how she feels in her own way—who am I to complain that she prefers full-on, mind-melting, hard kisses to our lips hesitatingly meeting?

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