22. Violet

22

VIOLET

I jolt awake, a scream dying in my throat. Cold sweat plasters my hair to my forehead, and my heart races so fast it makes me lightheaded. The nightmare clings to me, its tendrils of fear wrapping around my mind like a poisonous vine. I gasp for air, feeling as though I'm drowning in the lingering terror of my dream.

Nathaniel's voice echoes in my head, clear as if he were standing right next to me. I'm coming for you, little flower. His words are a sinister caress, a promise of horrors to come when he finds me. I can almost feel his icy breath on my neck, his fangs grazing my skin.

I shudder violently, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt at comfort. The room feels too small, too exposed. The walls seem to close in, and shadows dance in the corners, taking on menacing shapes. I glance at the window, half-expecting to see his face leering at me from the other side. But there's nothing there except the late afternoon sun, sinking below the horizon. The normalcy of it feels wrong, compared to the turmoil inside me.

The guys aren't back yet. Worry gnaws at me, competing with the ever-present craving for my sire that's now reaching a fever pitch. It's like an itch under my skin, a hunger that can't be satisfied. I hate it. I hate him. But my body betrays me, longing for his presence, his blood. The dichotomy of my feelings—the revulsion and the need—nearly tears me apart.

With shaking hands, I reach for the potions Professor Eldon gave me. The glass bottles clink together as I fumble with the stoppers. The liquid burns going down, acrid and bitter. Almost immediately, my stomach cramps violently. I double over, a cry of pain escaping my lips as I curl into a ball, waiting for the potion to take effect. It feels like my insides are being twisted and wrung out.

Time passes in a haze of discomfort; minutes that appear longer. When I can finally stand without doubling over, I stumble to the shower on unsteady legs. My reflection in the mirror is a stranger—pale, haunted eyes, dark circles like bruises, hair a tangled mess.

The cold water is a shock to my system, but it helps clear my head. As I stand under the spray, my thoughts turn to Flint. The memory of his touch, his scent, the warmth of his body next to mine, floods my senses.

I need him. It hits me with startling clarity. It's not just want or desire—it's a bone-deep need that I can't quite process. He makes things better, makes me feel better just by being near. It's like he has some magickal ability to calm the storm raging inside me, to quiet the constant battle between my mind and my vampire instincts.

Caine, as well, though in a different way. They're like anchors in the storm of my new existence, keeping me tethered to sanity when everything else is trying to sweep me away.

Driven by this sudden, overwhelming need, I hurriedly dry off and throw on some clothes. My hands shake as I pull on jeans and a sweatershirt. I have to find them. Nothing else matters right now. The need pulses through me, drowning out all other thoughts.

I burst out into the hallway, not caring about the curious looks I'm getting from other students. "Flint?" I call out, my voice echoing off the stone walls. It sounds desperate. "Caine?"

No answer. The silence that greets me is deafening, amplifying my growing panic. I move faster, my bare feet sinking into the carpet that lines the hallway. My hair is still damp, leaving a wet patch on the back of my sweatshirt. I must look insane—wild-eyed, half-dressed, shouting in the halls—but I don't care. All I can think about is finding Flint.

"Flint!" I yell again, louder this time. A group of students give me a wide berth, whispering among themselves. I catch snatches of their conversation, but I ignore them, pushing past anyone in my way. Their words can't hurt me, not when I'm drowning in this need.

My desperation grows with each passing moment. Where is he? Where are they? The castle suddenly seems vast, a labyrinth designed to keep me from the one person who can make this better.

Tears of frustration start to blur my vision. I swipe at them angrily, hating how I feel. Hating who I am right now. But with each step devoid of Flint or Caine, I feel my control slipping.

"Flint, please," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I need you."

Just as I'm about to round another corner, a door opens. Flint steps out. "Violet? What's wrong?"

The sight of him hits me like a physical force. Without thinking, I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his bare chest. He stumbles back a step but catches me, his arms coming around me protectively. The scent of him—pine and snow and something uniquely Flint—envelops me, and I feel like I can breathe properly for the first time since I woke up.

"Violet?" he says again, his voice soft and worried. "What happened?"

I can't stop the sobs that wrack my body. All the fear, the desperation, the overwhelming need—it all comes pouring out in a flood of tears. "I need you," I choke out between sobs. "You make it better. You make everything better."

His hand strokes my hair gently, the gesture soothing in its simplicity. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here. You're safe." He closes the bedroom door and leads me to his bed, rumpled from sleep.

I shake my head, clinging to him tighter. My fingers dig into his back, probably hard enough to bruise, but I can't make myself let go. "He's coming, Flint. Nathaniel. He knows where I am."

Flint tenses at this, his arms tightening around me. "How do you know?"

"I heard him. In my head. In a dream, but it was real." The memory of Nathaniel's voice in my mind makes me shudder. "I know it was real. He was in my mind, taunting me, torturing me, touching me…" I choke on the words, but I know I have to get them out, so I'm not alone in this sea of disgust and hatred.

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. His blue eyes search mine. "We won't let him take you, Violet. I promise."

I nod, feeling calmer just being in his presence. The frantic energy that drove me here starts to ebb away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. It's as if all my strength has been sapped, leaving me hollow and drained.

"Come on," Flint says gently, sitting down on the bed so I have no choice but to as well or risk letting go of him.

The door bursts open in the next second, and I look up, expecting it to be Nathaniel, but it's not. It's Caine .

His presence adds another layer of comfort, like a protective shield around me.

"Is she okay?" Caine asks, his voice tight with worry.

Flint shakes his head slightly. "I don't know. Violet, can you tell us what happened?"

I take a deep breath, trying to organise my thoughts. The words come tumbling out, a jumbled mess of fear and confusion. "I had a nightmare. Nathaniel... he said he knows where I am. That he's coming for me, and when I woke up, the craving was worse than ever. I took the potions, but..." I trail off, unsure how to explain the overwhelming need that drove me here.

Flint kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his. The warmth of his skin against mine is grounding, a tether to reality when everything else feels like it's spinning out of control. "We're here, Violet. We won't let anything happen to you."

Caine moves closer, and the need for him to stay in my sphere reaches its peak. I grab onto him, lacing our fingers together so he can't pull away. "You're safe here, snowdrop. We aren't leaving you."

"Please," I croak. "I need you."

"You have absolutely no idea how much those words turn me on," Caine mutters.

I close my eyes, feeling the tension start to leave my body. Just being near them, especially Flint, makes everything feel more manageable. The craving is still there, but it's muted, overshadowed by the warmth and security I feel in their presence.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, suddenly feeling embarrassed by my frantic behaviour. The memory of my desperate search through the castle makes me cringe inwardly. "I don't know what came over me. I just know I needed to find you."

Flint squeezes my hands gently. "Don't apologise. We're here for you, always. We should've come back to your room, but we wanted you to rest. We're sorry we didn't."

Caine nods in agreement. "Is that what you need, snowdrop? Do you need us near you always?"

His words are edged with something dangerous. Something so wild and tangible that I want to scream at and cling to them like a lunatic.

"Yes, please don't leave me."

Caine lowers himself to the floor at my feet and brings our clasped hands to his mouth. He kisses my white knuckles. "Never," he growls softly. "If you want us, Violet, you've got us."

"Has Thorne figured out the ritual yet?" I whisper.

Flint shakes his head. "Not yet. He's still working on it. The ingredients we gathered should help, but it's a complex spell. It's going to take time."

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. Every day that passes is another day Nathaniel's influence grows stronger, another day closer to him finding me. The thought sends a chill down my spine.

"Hey," Caine says softly, drawing my attention back to him. "We're not going to let him get you. We will die before we let him take you back, and in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly a pushover."

I want to believe him, but doubt gnaws at me. "But what if he's too strong? What if the bond is too powerful?"

Flint's grip on my hands tightens. "We're not giving up on you, Violet. Not now, not ever."

His words, filled with fierce determination, spark something in me. A tiny flame of hope that refuses to be extinguished. I look between them, these two men who have become my protectors, my anchors in this storm, but I still feel lost. Something is missing, and I can't bear it. I can't bear this hole in my soul.

"Where is he?"

"Nathaniel?" Flint asks carefully.

"Thorne."

"He's resting right now. Do you need to speak to him about the ritual?"

"No, I just need him here."

Flint and Caine exchange a glance, but I can't read what they are conveying.

"I'll go and get him," Caine says, standing up, but I don't let go of his hand.

"Don't leave me," I mutter.

"Then we will go to him," Flint says, rising and using his snowy Dragon magick to clothe himself and give me some boots for my bare feet. The temperature drops, and I stare up at him.

"I want to see you. "

"Hmm?" he murmurs.

"As a Dragon."

His gaze heats up, and he smiles. "Soon, baby girl. I promise."

It's a promise I hope he keeps. Standing up, my legs wobble momentarily, but the guys are there, on either side of me, giving me their strength, and I feel it thunder through me. With them next to me, I can do this. I can survive, but without them… I don't even want to think what will happen to me.