Violet couldn’t sleep. Not after the bombshell Daisy had dropped on them earlier. As if being a Rogue wasn’t hard enough, now there were actual rules they had to follow. And if there was anything Violet hated, it was rules designed to intentionally persecute others.
To be honest, Violet wasn’t worried about herself. No, she could handle whatever Elsie and her minions threw her way. What concerned her most was her friends. If Elsie couldn’t get to her directly, she’d undoubtedly turn her frustrations on them.
Violet sighed, rolling onto her side, staring at the poorly lit room. The wobbling candlelight cast shifting shadows on the walls, adding an eerie stillness to the space. Violet would have missed her old room, if not for the fact that her mind wouldn’t stop running amok with too many thoughts to count.
Tomorrow, she told herself. Yes, tomorrow she’d figure out what to do. For now, she needed sleep.
But sleep never came easy for her.
Instead, Violet lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, letting her mind drift. Counting sheep had never worked for her, not even back at the trailer when sleep was just another battle to fight.
She remembered those nights all too well. When Nancy brought customers over at ungodly hours, she had no choice but to curl up in the cramped living room, lying on that hard, lumpy sofa, staring at the trailer’s roof and willing herself to be anywhere but there.
Back then, Violet’s only escape was her imagination.
Usually, she’d dream of having money. Lots and lots of it. With the money, she’d have a better life and wouldn’t have to scrape by and live her dream life.
And on some nights—her better nights—she’d let herself believe in something sweeter.
Love.
Her prince in shining armor would always take the form of her latest secret crush—the one she never spoke to, only admired from afar. And in her mind, she’d play out the perfect fairytale. They’d fall in love. Get married. Have a family. Live a life untouched by the ugliness of reality.
But fairytales were for fools.
And Violet Purple had long since stopped believing in them even if she couldn’t help but dream about it. Guess she was a fool too.
Except this time, Violet’s imagination took a wilder turn.
She pictured Asher Nightshade hovering over her, his slitted gray eyes locking onto hers with a gaze that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Missed me?" he murmured before burying his face into her neck. His lips moved against her skin, pressing hot, lingering kisses that sent a pulse of heat through her body.
Instinctively, her back arched, pressing closer to him. A large, calloused hand slid over her stomach, fingers splayed wide as if to claim every inch of her feverish skin.
He didn’t stop. If anything, her reaction spurred him on. His mouth trailed lower, brushing over the delicate line of her collarbone, before his jaw pressed down against the thin strap of her singlet, pushing it aside as he worked his way to the swell of her chest.
"Asher," she gasped.
"Shh, Relax." he hushed her, his lips grazing her skin, his fingers drawing lazy circles around her waist, making her hyper aware of his touch.
Just when she thought he would dip lower, push the boundaries even further, Asher switched tactics, gliding back to her throat and letting his tongue dip into the hollow of her neck. A spot she had never realized was sensitive until now.
A soft, involuntary moan slipped past her lips.
Asher pulled back slightly, his gray eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction. "I was waiting for that sound."
Then he turned his head, addressing someone just out of her view. "Hold her down."
Violet blinked in confusion. *What?*
Before she could react, another figure loomed above her. Alaric.
"Little Vixen," he purred, pinning her wrist to the bed with something that felt like chains of some sort.
Violet’s breath caught. "What are you doing? Let go of me right now!" she demanded, tugging at the strange restraints, but they didn’t budge.
Before she could fully process what was happening, someone grabbed her other arm, binding it as well. Griffin appeared above her. "Don’t worry, love," he said. "You’re in safe hands."
"A lady is having a very good time," another voice drawled, and Violet twisted her head to see Roman perched on the edge of the bed, wearing that infuriating smirk.
What the fuck was going on here?
In one hand, he held a feather, twirling it between his fingers. Then, intentionally and slowly, he dragged it across her stomach. The light touch sent a ripple of sensation through Violet, her muscles tensing involuntarily.
Fascinated, Roman watched her body react. "Interesting," he mused. Then he gave Asher a mischievous glance. "The lady’s quite sensitive. You’d do well to serve dessert properly."
"Yes, sir!" Asher replied, and Violet looked down to see him kneeling between her legs.
"Oh, God," she whispered, realizing exactly what was about to happen.
Asher’s grin turned wicked as he spread her thighs apart with ease. His gaze lifted, locking onto hers with a promise that sent a shudder racing through her.
"Don’t worry," He said with dark amusement. "This god will take care of you."
Then he lowered his head.
Violet jolted awake, sitting up so fast that her head spun. Her breath came in loud gasps, while her chest rose and fell as she tried to calm the frantic pounding of her heart. Sweat clung to her skin, dampening the thin fabric of her nightshirt, but that wasn’t the worst of it.
There was a deep, aching pulse throbbing between her legs. Heat curled low in her stomach, leaving her restless, and Violet realized, with mortification, that she was... turned on.
What happened? This was so not the kind of imagination she had in mind. How on earth was she turned on by that depravity?
She fell back onto the bed, pressing a hand over her face. This can’t happen again. Next time, she’d avoid imagining any of the cardinal alphas. That should do the trick and keep her out of trouble.
Guessing it must be around midnight, Violet tried to calm down and drift back to sleep. Except, just as her eyelids fluttered shut, she heard a slithering sound.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The candle’s weak glow barely illuminated the room, but it was enough for her to see a small, green snake creeping toward her bed.
Before Violet could even blink, the snake morphed into a familiar green-haired Alpha.
Roman.
That motherfucking bastard!
A current of adrenaline tore through her. Violet opened her mouth to scream, to wake the entire goddamn dorm if she had to, but Roman was faster. He lunged, pinning her to the bed and clamping a hand over her mouth.
"Don’t make a sound."
Oh, hell no.