Page 38 of For Dear Life

“He usually does, although sometimes after an argument. And if he doesn’t, I do whatever I intended but without him.”

“Exactly. Rowan agrees because he wants to keep you out of trouble. Violet, you can’t treat people in that way. We’re happy to help you, but aren’t your servants.”

“I said no such thing,” I retort. Is this what bothered Rowan earlier?

He watches me for a few moments, rubbing his mouth. “You haven’t even asked me how I feel about that time at the lodge.”

“I presumed you’d tell me if you wanted to. You mostly kept away from me since we returned to the academy.” I sigh. “And you just did tell me.”

Leif leans across the table. “I was fucking traumatized, Violet. I keep seeing your blood on my hands. Remembering how it smelled.”

I wish I could empathize, to understand what trauma means, but I’m also happy that I don’t. Yet something skitters through me. If I become closer to these guys, will I react badly if they’re hurt? Would something inside this new Violet not cope and I’d respond as either Grayson or Rowan did?

Leif’s trauma remains with him, palpable in this moment, and I’m sorry that he had to be part of that moment.

I can’t empathize, but I do feel concern for what I’ve inadvertently pulled Leif into by forging a link. “I’m sorry, Leif.”

Each time I use those words, I understand them more—sometimes they’re the only ones people are capable of using in a situation.

13

VIOLET

I allow Leif to decide if he wants to continue to talk, and I’m thankful when our conversation ends by him slapping both hands on the table and standing.

“Arcade, right?” he asks.

I stand too and, in a strangely brave gesture, Leif grabs my hand, then tugs me after him. We approach the glass entry to the cacophony of sound and blinding light. Perhaps I should ask to leave, but I don’t need to as Leif halts and swears before we cross the threshold.

“What?” I ask.

His hold on my hand remains, and I’m acutely aware how small mine seems. In fact, how slight I am compared to this guy. Then I’m suddenly struck that Leif agreed to come with me tonight when he’s reluctant to leave campus. I slant my head to look at the side of his face where his heavy brow is pulled lower, the pupils in his amber eyes dilated, before following his line of vision.

Shifters. Ah. I thought I could smell something strong over the odor of the awful shoes.

“Show me the dazzling delights,” I say, this time me tugging his hand and walking forward.

I step into a metallic maze walled with mirrors that double the size of the area and the number of lights, disorientating me further. So much shiny silver. I squint around, then lead Leif to the opposite end of the arcade, away from the shifters who haven’t spotted us. They’re crowded around two car steering wheels attached to one large machine, filling the air with their noisy presence.

“You’re holding my hand, Violet,” Leif says once he pulls himself back to normality.

“I’ve held your hand before.” I attempt to extricate my fingers, but he tightens his. “I suggest you let go now unless you want me to take another look into your mind.”

The speed with which he releases my hand surprises me.

“I don’t want to stay here long,” he says.

“The shifters?”

Leif nods. “Yes. Partly because I don’t want an incident between you and them.”

“Oh, Rowan isn’t here. I’d say we’re safe from seismic events, and I doubt I’ll lose control again.”

“Right. The bond thing.”

I purse my lips. “Yes. The bond thing.”

“Y’know, I would’ve happily smacked the shifters threatening you that night I stepped in,” he says.

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