"Don’t feel pity for me," Micah suddenly said, his voice rousing Violet from her thoughts.
"W—what?" She stammered, caught off guard.
"You heard me," he replied evenly, his piercing gaze fixed on her.
Violet snorted, trying to appear casual. "Who said I feel pity for you? Everybody goes through shit."
But Micah’s stare didn’t waver. It was as though he could see straight through her words, unraveling her pretense effortlessly. His unblinking intensity made her fidget.
"Okay. Fine." Violet threw her hands up. "No pity. You could die right now, and I wouldn’t care," she said, her face deadpan.
For a moment, there was silence. And then Micah burst into deep, genuine laughter that echoed through the room. His reaction was so unexpected that Violet found herself laughing too, her snark dissolving into genuine mirth.
However, the levity was short-lived.
They caught each other’s gaze and the laughter subsided as if realizing their role as teacher and student — not that the line seem to mean anything at Lunaris Academy. Nonetheless, both of them straightened in their seats at the same time, composing themselves.
Micah cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the tension while Violet was the first to speak.
"So," She began, "how does this counseling thing even work? Are you actually a certified counselor?"
"No," Micah said bluntly.
Violet’s brow arched. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"Why would I choose a career that involves listening to students whine about their girlfriends not being good at giving head? Or their boyfriends cheating on them with their backstabbing best friends? Or how their parents are going through a divorce case? Or a secret solution to an infection they don’t want to get from the pharmacy because they’re too scared someone will find out? Or how they wish they were you, the purple-haired witch who’s apparently screwing all four of the cardinal alphas—"
"Alright, alright!" Violet interrupted, raising her hands to halt the tirade. "I don’t think I need to hear more!" She was nearly traumatized by his ranting. That was way too much information.
Violet eyed him cautiously. "For someone who’s supposed to be a counselor, it seems like you’re the one who needs therapy. That was a serious off loading."
Micah mused over it. "Probably. But that’s not in the budget."
Violet rubbed her temples, groaning softly. "Nobody in this school is normal at all."
She opened her eyes to find Micah watching her, his expression amused but guarded. Unable to help herself, she asked, "Is this how you perform your counseling sessions? By ranting to every student that comes around?"
"Not really," Micah replied with a shrug. "You’re strangely the first to actually sit down and talk with me. The others who come here already know what I can do and they’re just looking for a quick fix."
"Quick fix?" Violet repeated, her tone sharp with disbelief. "Oh, you mean the part where you sleep with students?" The bite in her voice was impossible to miss.
"Judge all you want, purplehead," Micah said, "But I’m a necessary evil. And for the record, I’ve never forced anyone. They offer themselves willingly, and it’s not like I don’t give them rest in return."
"Rest?" Violet echoed skeptically.
"It’s what I do," he explained. "Basically, I work with emotions. When stressed-out students come to me, I take their burdens away. The more grateful ones, well, let’s just say they’re often more than eager to offer me what I need in return." He smirked, adding, "I mean, if you ever had sex with me, you’d understand as well. One of my many talents is knowing exactly what my partner needs."
But Violet wasn’t listening anymore. His words seemed distant, her body tensing as something clicked in her mind. Her voice dropped to a hiss. "Your ability is manipulating emotions?"
Micah’s smirk faded instantly, replaced with a more serious expression. He noticed the sudden chill in her demeanor and quickly pieced together the reason for her reaction. She thought he manipulated her.
"Only when I make physical contact," he said in a measured tone, trying to reassure her. "You and I haven’t touched. Not even once."
"That’s why you’re the counselor," Violet muttered, her voice cold as she pieced it together. "Your ability is perfect for this role. The ideal prison. Taming and soothing problematic and horny students."
"You’re a real ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" Micah quipped, his tone a mix of sarcasm and reluctant admiration.
"For how long have you been here?" she pressed.
Micah raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t realize this was turning into an interrogation," he said with a hint of mirth.
"Answer me," Violet demanded, her tone unyielding.
"Since I graduated from this very school," Micah said simply.
The air left Violet’s lungs in a rush. If he’d graduated from Lunaris, that meant he’d been just a teenager when all of this started. And who was to say he hadn’t begun offering his "services" even then?
"Your uncle is an asshole," Violet said bluntly, her voice laced with disgust.
Micah chuckled, a smirk curling his lips. "I think I’m starting to like you more and more."
Violet rolled her eyes, recognizing his teasing tone but refusing to engage.
A beep from Micah’s phone broke the moment. He glanced down at the screen and sighed. "As much as I’d love to savor your delightful company, my services are needed elsewhere."
Violet frowned at his words. "You could refuse, you know? Move away from here—"
"And go where?" Micah interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. "Tell me, Violet, where does an abominable hybrid like me belong? Werewolves and humans are barely coexisting as it is. What makes you think the world would extend that courtesy to me? And even if I wanted to leave, do you think the Alpha King would ever let me go? I’m a threat to his throne. This is my cage, and I’ve made my peace with it."
"It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Violet Purple. I hope that feeling extends to our next meeting. Otherwise, there’s no point in seeing each other again."
With that, Micah walked out, leaving Violet alone in his office. The door clicked shut, and the room fell into an oppressive silence.
Fuck. Violet groaned, running her hands down her face in frustration. This was precisely why she preferred minding her own business. No convoluted backstories, no life-altering revelations, and no emotionally exhausting encounters.
She took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and decided to leave. Whatever bizarre turn her day had taken, she was done with it.
But as Violet opened the door, she froze.
Because standing right there, leaning casually against the doorframe, was a certain Alpha. He was not wearing glasses which meant his slitted gray eyes gleamed with that familiar mix of mischief and control, his lips curving into a devilish smile that made her heart nearly jump out of her chest.
"Hello, my purple queen."