"He kissed me... touched me and I liked it..." Violet continued, her voice low and raspy, and the words hanging between them like a heavy secret.
Alaric was clearly caught off guard by her forbidden confession. His throat worked as he swallowed, the movement of his Adam’s apple showing just how much her words had affected him. As if suddenly aware that he had wandered into dangerous territory.
And while Alaric fought to maintain his cool, impassive exterior, Violet knew it had gotten under his skin. She could see it in the slight tension around his jaw, in the way his shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly.
The satisfaction of rattling him was a small victory, one she wasn’t going to waste. She wanted to see how far she could push him.
Her eyes traced the line of his throat, lingering on the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple. A stray wild thought crossed her mind—how it would feel to brush her lips over it, to nip gently with the edges of her teeth and see how he’d react. Would he stiffen like now, or would he tilt his head back, letting her have her way?
What the hell?, she snapped herself out of it. Violet pushed the dangerous notion to the back of her mind, her face heating slightly. She was spiraling out of control, and needed to rein it in fast.
Still, as she looked back at Alaric, she couldn’t deny that part of her enjoyed watching him squirm. After all, he had asked for details, hadn’t he?
And she wasn’t even done with him yet.
Violet had no idea what possessed her to say it, but she purred with a wicked smirk, "Gods above, Asher was fucking good with his fingers—"
"That’s enough!" Alaric snapped.
For all his icy demeanor, his cheeks were now unmistakably tinged with red. The stark contrast between his flushed face and his cold, stormy eyes made the moment almost comical.
"I told you to skip the steamy details," he growled, visibly annoyed, "and tell me if anything significant happened. Did Asher do anything else to you? Did he compel you to dream about him?"
Violet tilted her head, that infuriating smirk still plastered across her face. "That’s the problem, Lightning Prince. You can’t separate one from the other. Everything that happened between us was steamy... even the important parts you’re so desperate to know."
Alaric scowled, his frustration palpable. "Don’t play games with me, Violet."
"I’m not playing games," she replied smoothly, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "It’s the truth. So what’s it going to be? Do you want to hear it all, or should I keep the sweet, juicy, sexy details to myself?" She rasped out the last words, deliberately biting down on her lip in a way that made her look far too tempting.
Violet didn’t know why she was behaving this way. Perhaps it was the urge to rattle him, to see the usually composed Alaric Storm falter.
And falter he did.
Alaric’s cheeks flared an even deeper crimson, though the dangerous light in his blue eyes remained as keen as ever. He looked adorably flustered, and Violet had to admit, watching the cold prince lose his composure kind of turned her on.
Oh hell. Maybe Nancy lied about her parentage and the truth was that she - Violet - was indeed her daughter. Because right now, she certainly felt like she was born from sin. A daughter of a whore.
Alaric let out a warning growl that reverberated through the air like a threat and sent heat pooling low in her belly. But Violet’s face was such a picture of composure one wouldn’t even think in their wildest dream she was having a crisis. A sexual one, to be precise.
"If I find out you’re fucking with me," Alaric said darkly, a ball of lightening resting in the palm of his hand, "I’ll fuck you up in such a way you’d regret the day you came into this academy."
Violet’s eyes flitted to the dangerous, beautiful display of power before meeting his gaze once more. "I don’t like being fucked with," she quipped, "but I might prefer the fucking part."
Damn. Was she flirting with Alaric? It definitely sounded like it. Neither did Violet disclose the fact she had to slowly clench her thighs together to suppress the need that passed through her.
Alaric’s nose crunched slightly in distaste, as though her insinuation was the most offensive thing in the world. Yet his cheeks burned brighter, betraying the conflict he clearly wanted to hide.
Violet bit back a victorious smile. Hard to get, was he? Not that she actually cared about the "fucking" part. Kind of?
She was just having a little fun ruffling his perfectly arranged feathers.
Then, without missing a beat, she dropped the bombshell. "Asher dry-humped me until I came. Or almost came, to be precise. He had me right at the edge... and then he compelled me." Her voice hardened into bitterness. "He said I would crave him. Hunger for him. Only him. The bastard called it a gift."
Her words hung in the air like a blade. Alaric’s face went deadly serious now, the teasing gone. Violet, meanwhile, felt the heat still buzzing beneath her skin, that constant throbbing hunger like a curse that wouldn’t leave her alone since this morning.
Silence swallowed the classroom whole, the gravity of the situation pressing down on them like a heavy shroud. For what felt like forever, no one spoke, until Alaric broke the stillness, his voice low and filled with an unspoken dread.
"It’s happening all over again."
"What’s happening all over again?" Violet asked, her curiosity piqued. Something told her it was important information. One she might need. If not now, but in the long run.
Alaric’s expression faltered. It was as if he realized too late that he had said something he shouldn’t have, something forbidden.
His eyes darkened as he tried to backtrack. "It’s nothing," he said dismissively.
Then, with a cold edge to his voice, he added, "But congratulations to you for making yourself Asher’s willing slave. He’s already so deeply ingrained in your head, I doubt any decision you make right now is truly your own."
The words struck like a slap, and anger exploded inside Violet, burning through her veins.
She turned on him, her golden eyes blazing with fury. "You think I wanted this?" she spat, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you think I’m so sick in the head that I wanted some psychopath with manipulative powers to notice me?"
For a brief second, guilt flashed across Alaric’s face. His mouth opened as if to apologize or explain, but Violet wasn’t done. Her voice rose, raw and cutting.
"You know what? Fuck you! I’m done with you! I actually thought you were different. I thought you were the nicest one out of the bunch. But you—all of you—Cardinal Alphas are just the same. You’re all cut from the same rotten mold!"
The words lingered in the air, vibrating with unrelenting rage. Violet shot to her feet abruptly, grabbing her bag and turning to leave.
"Violet, wait—!" Alaric called, lunging forward instinctively.
His hand caught her wrist, and the moment his skin made contact with hers, Alaric froze. His eyes widened in horror.
He wasn’t wearing his gloves. He just touched her with his bare hands.
"No..." The word escaped his lips, raw with regret, but it was already too late.
Violet gasped, her breath catching as a jolt of energy surged through her body.
It was searing yet oddly exhilarating, the electricity pouring through her veins like a rushing river, awakening every nerve ending and heating her from the inside out.
For a moment, the world stopped. Time unraveled into something endless and surreal, where seconds stretched on forever. Violet could feel Alaric’s lightning filling her, the sensation so intense it was almost tangible. It tasted sharp on her tongue, like ozone after a storm. The electricity danced across her skin, alive and wild, humming with raw energy.
Static crackled in the air around her, lifting the strands of her hair as if she’d been touched by a living storm. The white glow of the lightning reflected faintly off her face, illuminating her wide eyes as a shiver shot down her spine.
She felt alive, as if something within her had been charged, like her soul had been lit on fire and was burning brighter than ever.
Violet waited for the pain Alaric had described earlier, for the agony where her nerves would fry and her heart would stop. But it didn’t come.
Instead, she felt alive.
Across from her, Alaric looked stunned. His chest rose and fell as he stared at her, his pale face even paler than before. He looked as though he couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Violet was rooted in place, her gaze locking with his as the lightning faded and the static energy began to settle. She should have been afraid—terrified—but instead, all she could think was: What the hell just happened?