All Chapters of Violets and Ash: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Violet’s P.O.V.I barely registered Hael’s presence the entire way home. As far as my overwhelmed brain was concerned, the seat to my left was empty and the car was driving itself.We could’ve been coasting down the sidewalk, plowing into pedestrians left and right, and I probably wouldn’t even have noticed. I was too busy trying to wrap my head around the results of my gene test.‘We don’t have the rogue gene, which is a definite plus.’ Lacey said soothingly, but even my wolf couldn’t erase my worries.I gnawed on my lip, ignoring the tingle of Hael’s eyes on my face. ‘That’s wonderful and all but having the rogue gene would’ve explained the blackouts and why I’ve been so quick to anger lately. Also, this whole carrier thing royally sucks. Hael’s our only option if we want to have healthy children, and I’d rather reproduce with Blaze of all people over Hael.’Alright, that was a blatant lie, but who could blame me? My options were spectacularly limited. I doubted that even Holden wou

Violet’s P.O.V.The crowd split and people began to mill about, venturing left and right, merging with others in a sea of color and fabric that quickly became disorienting the longer I stared at it. Thankfully, it wasn’t long, because half a minute later a Olive’s head of choppy, layered hair appeared in the crowd.With her resting bitch face alone, she carved a path through everyone, practically sprinting to side. Neither of us spared Hael a glance, lacing our arms together and melting into the sea of people. Stares were tossed left and right, each one soaking into my skin, tickling the puckered scars that marred my body, but Olive’s presence helped tune them all out.“Thank Goddess for that entrance of yours or I never would have found you.” She moaned, forcing a puff of air through her lips to blow her bangs out of her face.Laughing at her dramatics, I scanned the violet streaks in her hair and glanced down at her dress. “Sticking with the violet theme, huh?” I pointed out, fighti

Hael’s P.O.V.Bowing with a hand extended, the way I’d been taught at the ripe age of seven, I waited for Violet to stop her trembling and accept my offer to dance.If she didn’t—if she instead rejected my offer as an attempt to embarrass me, I’d likely throw her over my shoulder and cut this entire ridiculous event short. We’d see who was more embarrassed. I, rejected by a single she-wolf in a room full of others who would slit their families’ throats for a speck of my attention, or Violet, dragged from a room of werewolves who would happily watch her kick and scream rather than dare lend a hand?Her hand fit perfectly in mine. It was small and soft where mine were anything but. There was no denying the dark, devastating pleasure that came when she actually fucking listened for a change. Something about her obedience soothed the monster that was my soul.I’d been forced to take dance lessons as a child, but it was obvious the same couldn’t be said for Violet. Despite that fact, she f

Violet’s P.O.V.I’d been at Sylvia’s Find-A-Mate event, I was sure of it. One moment I was wading through a sea of colorful gowns, pressing past women who belonged on a runway and not in a ballroom, and the next I was standing amongst a sea of rubble.Peering down at chunks of brick, I lifted my head and looked at where the wall had once been standing. It wasn’t there anymore, though, and once I realized that, the world yet again faded from my fingertips.Four walls of solid cement surrounded me. Their roughness was permanently etched into my memory, scratched into my subconscious as thoroughly as it was my fingertips. These walls held secrets of blood and pain; secrets of the raven-haired boy who sat hunched against them.His head snapped up as it always did when I entered the room. Those eyes of his, the same color as the darkness he rotted in, were always so quick to notice the way my hands shook, and lip quivered. They noticed my fear like it was a tangible presence filling the ro

Violet’s P.O.V.After that heavy conversation, I was more than ready to clear my mind with the loud thunder of heavy-metal and rock music.There was something soothing about flitting from customer to customer, memorizing drink orders and mixing them in the correct amounts. It was easy to get lost in the art that was mixing drinks, even if most of the gruff men here wanted nothing more than a bottle of beer.The younger crowd, which was brought in solely because of Erik’s initiative to make this place more like a club than a seedy bar, primarily ordered cocktails and other colorful concoctions. They were the one’s that embraced my creativity and knocked back damn near anything I placed in their hands.Hours flitted by like seconds when I worked at the Violet Lounge. Olive switched between sitting at the bar to keep me company, harassing Erik, and helping the two newly hired cooks in the back kitchen.Somehow, Olive was even more popular than the two lingerie-clad waitresses. I quickly