18. Violet

18

VIOLET

As I sit through Supernatural Ethics, I find it hard to concentrate. My mind keeps drifting back to what happened outside the Blood Bar—the intensity of feeding from Caine and Flint, the way they looked at me afterwards, and then Briar's cruel interruption.

I can feel eyes on me, hear the whispers. Word has spread fast. I try to focus on Professor Smythe's lecture about the ethical considerations of using magick, but it's a losing battle.

When class finally ends, I'm dreading having to face the hallway full of gossiping students. As I exit the lecture hall, I'm surprised to see Thorne waiting instead of Flint.

"Hey," he says softly. "Thought you might want some company."

I nod gratefully. "Thanks. It's been a day."

"So I heard."

As we walk, Thorne glares at anyone who dares to stare or whisper too loudly. His presence is comforting, a shield against the gossip.

"Don't let them get to you," he murmurs. "They're just jealous, and to them, you are easy pickings. You haven't shown them the real you yet."

"And who is that then? I don't even know."

"But that's what I mean. You need to figure out your place here. Fast."

"Easier said than done."

"I know, but you've got us to help you in the meantime."

"You know, before this, I would've told you all to fuck off and leave me to deal with it, but I'm lost, Thorne." I choke back the sob. "I need…"

He pulls me to the side of the hallway and takes my hand. "What do you need, Violet?"

I stare into his soulful eyes, and the tears escape, rolling down my cheeks. "H-him."

He hisses, but he isn't hurt or upset. "No," he says defiantly. "You don't need him. He is a waste of oxygen, and I swear to you, when all of this is over, he will be ex in every sense of the word."

"Thorne," I say, shaking my head.

"What do you need right now to get him out of your head?"

I shrug because I'm not answering that. Even if I could, the words won't come. I need comfort and love and desire. Intimacy. Not that I'd get any of that from Nathaniel, but that is what I need right now.

"Say it," he murmurs .

I shake my head because words won't come. I want them to. I want to confide in him and have him make these feelings go away, but I can't. Something is stopping me.

He tilts my chin up so I can stare into his sapphire eyes. "Whatever it is, I want to help."

I choke back a sob. "Hold me."

In an instant, he pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me, crushing me against his hard chest as I fight back the urge to cry all over him and ruin his nice shirt. I hear the whispers and laughter as students pass by, but I don't care right now. It's all superficial when compared to the ravaged soul that is begging me to go back and find my sire.

"Let's get you to Blackthorne," Thorne whispers into my hair. "See if those potions are ready."

I nod and let him turn me, but he keeps one arm around me, helping me stay on my feet instead of curling up into a ball. "The ritual?"

"I'm getting there. It's going to take time. I'm sorry that it's not already done, but I have to be careful."

I sniff but don't say anything. Everyone is always so careful when all I really need is to get this bond severed as soon as possible.

"Ah, there you are," Blackthorne's booming voice resounds down the hallway, making the students who were staring and gossiping dissipate like ghosts. "Professor Eldon has the potions ready, Miss Violet. Come this way. "

That sends a bolt of energy coursing through me, and I surge forward, practically standing on Blackthorne's heels as I follow him closely. Thorne is next to me, and he slips his hand into mine, giving it a squeeze.

Blackthorne leads us to a small office tucked away in a quiet corner of the academy. Inside, a petite woman with silver hair and kind eyes greets us. "Ah, you must be Violet," she says warmly. "I'm Professor Eldon."

I nod, trying to muster a smile. "Nice to meet you."

Professor Eldon turns to a table covered in various vials and bottles. "I've prepared a couple of different potions that should help ease your symptoms," she explains. "This one," she holds up a vial of deep purple liquid, "will help with the physical cravings, and this," she indicates a bottle of shimmering blue potion, "should help stabilise your emotions."

I take the vials gratefully. "Thank you. How often should I take them?"

"The purple one, twice a day. The blue, as needed when you feel overwhelmed. But no more than four doses in twenty-four hours," she cautions.

I nod, clutching the potions like a lifeline.

"And remember," Blackthorne adds gently, "these are to help manage your symptoms while we work on a more permanent solution. They're not a cure."

"I understand," I say softly.

Thorne's hand is still in mine, a steady anchor .

"The runic enchantments will take a bit more time, but they will last longer," Professor Eldon says.

I nod, trying not to scream at her to hurry up. She is doing me a favour—they all are—but it doesn't stop the vortex of emotions whirling around in my head.

As we leave Professor Eldon's office, I pull my hand from Thorne's and uncap the purple vial. I take a small sip and hand it to him to recap while I take a sip of the blue.

Then, I wait.

Nothing happens.

I feel just as miserable and alone as I did a few seconds ago.

My disappointment must show on my face as Thorne cups it and murmurs, "It will take time, Violet."

"I don't have time."

"It feels that way, but you are stronger than that."

Shoving his hand away, I snap, "How do you know? You don't even know me!"

He grips my fingers and brings them to his mouth, kissing the tips lightly. "Maybe not as you would like me to, but I know you, Violet. Here." He pats his chest with his free hand.

My shoulders sag. "I'm sorry. I'm all over the place. It's no excuse."

"Forgiven," he says with a smile.

Thorne's gentle understanding only makes me feel worse about snapping at him. I take a deep breath. " Thank you for being so patient with me," I murmur. "I just feel so lost."

He nods, his eyes full of compassion. "I know. But you're not alone, Violet. We're all here for you."

As we walk down the hallway, I start to feel a subtle change. The edges of my anxiety seem to soften slightly, and the desperate craving for Nathaniel dulls to a more manageable ache. The potions must be starting to take effect.

"I think it's working," I say softly. "I feel calmer."

Thorne smiles. "Good. That's a start."

We round a corner and nearly collide with Caine and Flint. They both look worried, but their expressions relax slightly when they see me.

"There you are," Caine says. "We were looking for you."

"How are you feeling?" Flint asks, his eyes searching my face.

"A little better," I admit. "Professor Eldon gave me the potions to help with the symptoms." I hold them up as evidence.

Caine nods approvingly. "Good."

"Do you want to go to the dining hall?" Flint asks.

I shake my head. "I think I want to go back to my room, away from everyone's sight," I say with a sigh.

Caine nods, understanding in his eyes. "Of course. We'll walk you back."

As we make our way to my room, I feel a sense of safety surrounded by these three men. Each of them offers a different kind of support, and I'm grateful for their presence.

When we reach my door, I hesitate. The thought of being alone suddenly seems daunting. "Would one of you mind staying with me for a while?" I ask softly, almost embarrassed by my neediness.

"Of course," Thorne says immediately. Caine and Flint nod in agreement.

"I'll stay," Flint offers. "If that's okay with you?"

I nod, feeling relief and nervous anticipation. As I open the door, I turn to Caine and Thorne. "Thank you both for everything today."

They smile, and Thorne squeezes my hand gently before they leave. Flint follows me into the room, closing the door behind us.

Inside, I sink onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. Flint sits beside me, close but not touching. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks softly.

I shake my head. "Not really. I just don't want to be alone right now."

He nods, understanding. "Then we don't have to talk. We can just sit here, or I can read to you if you'd like."

The offer is so unexpectedly sweet that I feel tears pricking at my eyes again.

"Can you just lie with me?" I ask instead. I'm too exhausted to pretend to be engrossed in a story.

He nods and kicks off his shoes. I do the same, and we lie flat on our backs, staring at the ceiling. His fingers lightly touch mine, and I smile, gripping them tightly. I'm grateful that we don't need words to make this comfortable. I feel better than I have all day. His blood and Caine's are swirling nicely through me, giving me the strength I desperately need. It's hard to explain, but the combination of their life force is like it was made to help me and heal me. Caine's iciness mixed with Flint's fiery taste are better than three cups of the synthetic blood from the dining hall.

As Flint and I lie there in comfortable silence, I feel my body slowly relaxing. The potions are working their magick, dulling the sharp edges of my cravings and anxiety. Flint's presence beside me is a steady, reassuring warmth.

After a while, I roll onto my side to face him. He turns his head to look at me, his expression soft and open. "Thank you," I murmur. "For being here. For everything."

He smiles, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You don't have to thank me, Violet. I want to be here for you."

His touch sends a shiver through me, and I find myself moving closer to him. There's an undeniable pull between us, a tension that's been building since we first locked gazes at Nathaniel's mansion.

"Flint," I whisper, "I..."

Before I can finish my thought, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepens as I respond eagerly. My hands find their way to his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt .

Flint pulls me closer, one hand cupping the back of my head as the other slides down to my waist. I moan softly into his mouth, all thoughts of Nathaniel and my troubles momentarily forgotten in the heat of our embrace.

My head tells me to pull away, to break this kiss, but my heart is all in. It feels right and perfect, and it is everything that I craved before I took the potions. It is intimacy, and it feeds the beast inside me that is crying out for some form of connection. So, instead of pulling away, I deepen it.