Violet jolted awake, her breath ragged with her heart hammering in her chest. Her body was heavy and achy in places she couldn’t even understand, as if she’d been through some intense ordeal.
Groggy and disoriented, she blinked at her surroundings, her mind struggling to piece together what was real and what wasn’t.
Her head was pounding and she groaned in pain as flashes of vivid, horrifying memories began to assault her. The images came in waves; her lips pressed against Alaric’s; her body grounding against Roman’s; her hands roaming over Griffin. It was a kaleidoscope of mortifying memories, each one making her stomach churn.
"Oh God.... no... "Violet shook her head as if trying to shake away the memories. But the harder she tried to push them away, the clearer they became, playing like a twisted movie in her mind.
Her breathing quickened, and her hands flew to her face, her fingers digging into her scalp as she let out what sounded like a thousand curses. It couldn’t be real. Yet it was.
The sensations were too vivid, too raw, for it to be just a dream. The way her skin had burned under their touch, the heat of their gazes, the electric connection that shouldn’t have been there. Violet’s cheeks burned even though her body was ice-cold, as though the blood had drained from her entirely.
She touched her lips, as if expecting to find some lingering trace of them there. The bile rose in her throat instead, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, afraid she might vomit.
What had she done? Why had she behaved like... that? No, the word "whore" didn’t even begin to cover it. She had thrown herself at not just one, but three of them! Without shame, desperate for their touch.
Nancy would be so proud of her right now!
If this wasn’t a nightmare, Violet didn’t know what else she could call it.
"You’re up," a voice said, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to see the healer, Adele, standing by a desk, her back to her as she mixed some sort of concoction.
"Where am I?" Violet asked, her voice hoarse, her throat dry.
"You’re in Griffin’s suite," Adele answered nonchalantly, her focus still on the swirling liquid in the cup she held.
"Why am I here?" Violet pressed, her unease growing.
Adele turned to face her, one eyebrow raised as if in amusement. "You don’t remember?"
The heat rose to Violet’s cheeks, and she looked away. That reaction was answer enough, and Adele smirked knowingly. "Oh, you do remember. You’re just too shy to admit it."
"I’m not shy," Violet snapped, her glare sharp despite her embarrassment.
"Whatever you say," Adele replied breezily, clearly unconvinced. She finished mixing the concoction and walked over to Violet, sitting down beside the massive bed with the cup in hand.
"You’re here because Asher mentally messed with your head," Adele began bluntly. "How do you feel now? Do you still feel the compulsion to..." she paused, her lips quirking, "...have sex?"
Violet’s cheeks burned hotter, and she crossed her arms defensively. "No," she said firmly, though the truth felt a little more complicated. She didn’t feel the overwhelming need anymore, but there was still a faint, unsettling offness lingering beneath the surface.
"Good," Adele said with a satisfied nod. She thrust the cup into Violet’s hands. "Now drink this."
Violet eyed the cup suspiciously. "What is it?"
"A concoction to make sure you don’t end up pregnant," Adele replied matter-of-factly.
The words hit Violet like a slap, and her face twisted in outrage and disbelief. "Pregnant?!" she sputtered, pushing the cup away instinctively.
Adele didn’t budge, her tone icy and firm. "Werewolves are very virile, and I’m sure it would’ve been... confusing, not knowing who the father of your baby was."
Violet’s jaw dropped, a mixture of humiliation and anger bubbling up inside her. She glared at Adele, her fists clenching as she debated whether to like the woman for her blunt honesty or despise her for her lack of tact.
Reluctantly, Violet took the cup, wrinkling her nose as she brought it to her lips. The bitter taste hit her tongue immediately, making her gag and nearly spit it out.
"Don’t waste a drop," Adele said coldly, her piercing gaze locking onto Violet.
With a mutinous scowl, Violet forced herself to gulp down the vile concoction, grimacing with every swallow. When she finally handed the empty cup back to Adele, her expression was nothing short of bitchy.
Adele, completely unfazed, took the cup and smirked. "Good girl," she said, rising from her seat and walking away, leaving Violet to stew in her embarrassment and rising irritation.
Violet leaned back against the massive headboard, her arms crossed as she watched Adele move about the room. "What happens next?" she finally asked, her tone sharp with a mix of exhaustion and residual anger.
Adele turned to her with a neutral expression. "You rest here for the remainder of the day. Classes resume for you tomorrow, though some adjustments have been made to your schedule to account for the ones you missed today."
Violet’s eyes narrowed. "And what about Asher? What happens to him for what he did to me?"
Adele paused, then raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in a faint smirk. "Really? You think someone’s going to punish Asher? Do you think you can punish him?"
The words hit like a slap, and Violet’s fury bubbled to the surface. "You’re saying he just gets away with this?" she spat.
Adele sighed, walking closer and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Look, Violet, I’m not saying it’s fair, but you’re dealing with someone who doesn’t play by the rules, because, in his world, he makes the rules."
"That’s bullshit," Violet growled, her golden eyes blazing with defiance.
"Maybe," Adele conceded with a shrug. "But here’s the thing. Asher won’t mess with your mind again unless you want him to. That much, I can guarantee."
"That’s all?" Violet asked, her voice rising. "That’s it? That’s the big resolution to all of this?"
Adele stood, brushing off her hands as though she’d finished her task. "Yes, Violet. That’s all. Now, rest. You’ve had a rough day, and you’ll need your energy to tackle whatever comes next. See you later, Violet Purple."
Without waiting for a response, Adele strode to the door, opened it, and left, her steps echoing faintly down the hallway.
Violet stared at the closed door, her anger rising to the surface. She had never felt angrier than she did at that moment. Her fists tightened on the covers until her knuckles turned white and her jaw clenched as she seethed in silence.