That’s what I told myself.
But deep down, I knew it was a lie.
The second I laid eyes on her, everything changed.
Even if I’d known everything—the forced pregnancies, the mark, her trauma—I still would’ve kept her. I still would’ve fought for her. Hell, I would have killed for her, just like I was ready to do now.
And instead of comforting her, and of holding her when she needed me most I pushed her away.
Worse than that I screamed at her to get out.
Not because she did something wrong, because I was scared. Not of her, but because I don’t know how to love gently. I don’t know soft words and kind embraces. I know claiming. I know obsession.
I knew how to protect what’s mine, not how to rebuild what someone else broke.
But, then I guess Violet was never broken. Well, okay she was, but not in a bad way.
Because the moment I let myself love her… I made her mine.
And now?
Now I had to clean up the mess I made before I lost another omega.
That thought alone spurred me to the bedroom. Violet looked tired, so I figured she’d go relax in her nest.
But, the sanctuary I’d built her in my closet was empty. So was my bed.
Next, I checked the pack nest. All I found was Skye and Serena curled up together. They were dead asleep, slow and steady breaths filling the room like nothing in the world was wrong.
My chest caved in.
I backed out of the room quietly and shut the door before turning around and rapidly tearing through every other room in the house.
Laundry room? Empty.
Bathrooms? Empty.
Patio? Only a yellow rat snake perched in a lawn chair, basking in the fresh moonlight.
Its forked tongue flickered as it lifted its head to stare at me.
Fuck.
I turned back inside and headed straight for the kitchen, it was the only stone left unturned. My heart nearly fell out of my ass when I rounded the corner and only saw Benji. His back was to me, but I could see his shoulders move as he worked in an already spotless kitchen.
“Benji,” I said.
He startled ever so slightly before turning to look at me over his shoulder.
“Boss?” He frowned slightly as he looked me over. “Something wrong?”
I could tell he asked that more out of courtesy than need. Even without our bond, my rumpled shirt, messy hair, and bare feet were probably enough to tell that I wasn’t okay.
“Where’s Violet?” I asked.
His brow creased and he finally turned the rest of his body to face me. Chocolate stained his white jacket and he still had a strawberry in his hand.
“After your two hour interrogation, she came into the kitchen. I asked if she was ready for bed, and she shook her head no.” He held up the berry as if that answered anything. “She said she was still hungry and I told her to go rest and I’d bring her dessert.”
