27. Violet

27

VIOLET

I watch as Caine's eyes light up with sudden realisation.

"What is it?" Flint asks, his brow furrowed, having also noticed the sudden shift in temperament.

"The ritual," Caine says. "I think I know how we can make it work."

Thorne looks up from his books, intrigued. "Go on. Anything to release me from this torture."

"Hey," I snap.

"Sorry," he murmurs, giving me a wicked smile that sends heated thoughts careening through me.

Caine takes a deep breath, his emerald eyes meeting mine. "The problem with breaking a vampire bond is that it's tied to blood, right? It's a physical and spiritual connection."

I nod slowly, not sure where he's going with this. "I guess. I don't really know. "

"Well, what if we don't try to break it? What if we simply overrode it?"

The room falls silent as we process his words. Overrode the bond? Is that even possible?

"Explain," Thorne says, leaning forward with interest.

Caine taps his cane on the floor agitatedly. "Okay, so vampire bonds are powerful, but they're not the only kind of magickal bonds out there. What if we created a new bond—one between Violet and us—that's strong enough to overpower Nathaniel's? Not only will there be consent, but the intent will be?—"

"Pure," Thorne finishes. "I mean, I won't lie. It has crossed my mind as a remote possibility, but we aren't vampires. Whatever bond we form with Violet, will be wholly supernaturally different. It isn't possible to override it or replace it, merely add to it."

"Fuck!" Caine roars, making me jump as the entire room is suddenly covered in ice. I shiver, and Flint pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me.

The room falls silent after Caine's outburst; the only sound is the soft crackling of ice as it spreads across the surfaces. I shiver, not just from the cold but from the weight of disappointment that settles over us all.

"Fuck," Caine says after a moment, his voice heavy with frustration. "I thought I had something there."

"It was a good idea," Flint says, his breath visible in the chilled air. "We just need to keep thinking. "

Thorne nods, returning to his books. "Every idea gets us closer, even if it's not the final solution."

I look around at them—Caine with his fists clenched around his cane, Flint's protective embrace, Thorne buried in his research. They're all trying so hard for me, and I'm offering absolutely nothing to it except doom and gloom.

"Kill him," I blurt out.

"What?" Flint asks cautiously.

I meet his gaze head-on. "Kill Nathaniel."

"We can't do that without there possibly being consequences—" Thorne starts, but I hold my hand up, cutting him off as I climb off the bed.

"Fuck the consequences. You are sitting there, by your own admission, torturing yourself, trying to find a solution to this disaster zone of a bond. I'm sitting here on tenterhooks, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Caine and Flint are going crazy with inaction. Just kill him and get it over with. Whatever falls back on me, I will handle it. I will lure him here, and then bam!" I slam my fist onto my other hand.

Silence falls over the room as the guys exchange uncertain glances. I can see the conflict in their eyes—the desire to protect me warring with the knowledge that this could be my best chance at freedom.

No one gets to utter a word, though, as I'm punched in the guts so hard, I see stars and bend over double.

Oh, little flower. Did you think you could plot against me, and I wouldn't find out ?

"Screw… you," I pant as Flint lunges towards me.

I hold a shaky hand up as I drop to my knees.

Lie down, Violet. Close your eyes and fall into a deep, deep sleep.

"No!" I shout, but my body isn't mine anymore. I crumple to the floor, eyes closing as darkness closes in around me.

When my eyes open, I'm back in a place I hoped never to see again. Nathaniel's gothic mansion looms before me, its dark spires reaching towards a perpetually overcast sky. I look down at myself, a wave of revulsion washing over me as I see the old-fashioned white dress he made me wear. A symbol of his twisted idea of purity, of ownership.

I try to move, to run, but my body isn't mine anymore. It's his. Like a puppet on strings, I walk towards the mansion, my steps measured and graceful despite the panic rising in my chest. The heavy wooden doors swing open silently, revealing the opulent interior I've come to despise.

Nathaniel is there, waiting for me in the grand entrance hall. His green and gold eyes gleam with satisfaction as he takes in my appearance. "Welcome home, little flower," he purrs, his voice sending skitters of fear crashing over me.

I want to scream and fight, but my face remains placid, and my voice is soft as I reply, "Thank you, Master." The words taste like dirt in my mouth.

He smiles, a predator's grin that shows his fangs. "You've been very naughty, Violet. Plotting against me with your little friends. Did you really think I wouldn't know?"

Inside, I'm raging, but outwardly, I simply lower my eyes in submission. "I'm sorry, Master. I was confused."

"Of course you were," he says, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "But don't worry, little flower. I'll always remind you of where you belong."

With a wave of his hand, the scene shifts. I'm in the kitchen now, on my hands and knees, scrubbing the pristine floor. Nathaniel watches from the doorway, his gaze heavy on my skin.

"You see, Violet," he says conversationally, as if we're discussing the weather, "this is where you're meant to be. Serving me, obeying me. Those boys at the academy, they can't give you what I can. They can't understand you like I do. Our bond is special, strong. They are nothing."

I want to argue, to tell him how wrong he is, but my lips remain sealed as I continue my tasks. The kitchen is spotless, every surface gleaming, but still I clean. It's never enough for him. I'm never enough.

"They think they can break our bond," Nathaniel continues, moving closer. He crouches down, his hand fisting in my hair. I loathe myself as I lean into his touch. "But they don't understand. Our connection goes beyond blood, beyond magick. You're mine, Violet. Body and soul."

The scene shifts again, and suddenly, I'm in the ballroom. Music plays from an unseen source as Nathaniel pulls me into a macabre waltz. My body moves in perfect time with his, even as my mind screams in protest.

"Look at you, my perfect little doll. "

As we dance, the room around us begins to change. The elegant decor twists and warps, revealing the true nature of this place—or is it my mind? The walls bleed, the floor cracks beneath our feet, but still, we dance.

"This is the reality of our world, Violet," Nathaniel whispers in my ear. "Beauty and horror, intertwined. Only I can guide you through it. Only I can keep you safe."

I want to laugh at the absurdity of it. Safe? With him? But my face remains impassive, my steps never faltering. "Yes, Master."

The dance ends, and with another wave of his hand, we're in his study. Books line the walls, ancient tomes of dark magick that make my skin crawl just to look at them. Nathaniel sits behind his massive desk, while I stand in front of him, hands clasped demurely in front of me.

"Now that you remember your place, my little flower," he says, his voice taking on a harder edge, "it's time to discuss your punishment."

Fear courses through me, but I can't move, can't speak. I'm trapped in my own body, forced to endure whatever torment he has planned.

Nathaniel rises, moving around the desk. His ice-cold hand cups my cheek, the gesture almost gentle if not for the cruelty in his eyes. "You tried to leave me, Violet. You let those boys touch you, feed you, fill your head with ideas of freedom, of escape. But there is no escape. Not from me."

Suddenly, chains materialise around my wrists and ankles, heavy and cold. They pull taut, stretching me out in midair, suspended in the centre of the room. Nathaniel circles me slowly, like a shark sizing up its prey .

"I'm going to remind you of your place," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to."

Nathaniel's power of compulsion goes deeper than I feared. They allow him to manipulate my senses, to make me feel things that aren't real. One moment, I'm burning at the stake; the next, I'm freezing to death, naked and alone. I feel the phantom touch of spiders crawling across my skin, of knives slicing into my flesh.

I can't scream, can't cry. My face remains a mask of calm acceptance, even as my mind fractures under the assault.

"You see, Violet," Nathaniel says, as a snake wraps itself around my neck, its tongue flicking out and tasting my skin, "this is why you need me. The world is cruel, filled with pain and suffering. But I can protect you from it. All you have to do is submit."

He snaps his fingers, and the chains disappear. I fall to the floor and Nathaniel's hand strokes my hair, the gesture possessive.

"That's my good girl," he croons. "You understand now, don't you? Those boys at the academy, they can never have you. You're mine, Violet. Forever and always."

Inside, I'm screaming, fighting against the bonds of his control. But outwardly, I simply nod, my voice a whisper as I say, "Yes, Master. I understand."

Nathaniel smiles, satisfied. "Good, now go upstairs and remove your dress. Wait for me on the bed."

Tears slide down my cheeks, the first outward sign of emotion I've been able to show. Nathaniel wipes them away with his thumb, the gesture mockingly tender.

"Shh, little flower. It doesn't have to be this way. All you have to do is accept your place by my side. Embrace our bond fully, and the pain and suffering will end."

With monumental effort, I manage to turn my head, meeting Nathaniel's gaze. "No," I whisper, the word barely audible but filled with defiance.

Nathaniel's eyes narrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it's replaced by cold anger. "No? After everything I've shown you, everything I've done for you, you still defy me?"

He grabs my chin roughly, forcing me to look at a vision he has conjured. The image shows Thorne, Caine, and Flint in my room at MistHallow, pouring over books. "Look at them, Violet. Working so hard to save you. But they don't understand. They can't break our bond. It's unbreakable."

I watch as Caine slams a book shut in frustration, as Thorne runs a hand through his hair, as Flint stares off into the distance, lost in thought. Despite the hopelessness of their task, they're not giving up, and neither will I.

"You're wrong," I say, my voice growing stronger. "They understand more than you think."

Nathaniel's grip on my chin tightens painfully. "They can't have you, Violet. I won't let them."

I shake my head, feeling the bonds of his control weakening as my resolve strengthens. "You can't stop them."

"Oh, my naive little flower. You still don't understand, do you? This isn't just a dream, a figment of your imagination. This is real. I'm in your mind, in your blood. I feel your heart beat, I'm with you when you take your next breath, I feel your body convulsing when the Dragon drives his cock into you. You can't escape me, Violet." He releases my chin, stepping back. "But by all means, keep fighting. It only makes your eventual submission that much sweeter."

The scene shifts again, and we're back in the kitchen. I'm on my knees, scrubbing the pristine floor. Nathaniel watches from the doorway, his gaze heavy on my skin.

"This is your reality now, Violet," he says softly. "You can dream of freedom, all you want. But you'll always come back here. To this moment. To me."

I want to argue, to fight, but I feel my control slipping away again. The brief moment of defiance fades, leaving me a puppet in Nathaniel's twisted play again.

As I continue my endless tasks, I cling desperately to the memory of Thorne, Caine, and Flint. Their faces become a lifeline, a reminder of what I'm fighting for. I may be trapped in this looping nightmare for now, but I refuse to give up hope.

Nathaniel may think he's won, that he's broken me. But he underestimates the power of the connections I've made at MistHallow. He underestimates me.

I will find a way out of this. I will break free of his control, and when I do, Nathaniel will learn what true strength really is.

Until then, I endure. I wait. I will remember that somewhere out there, three men are fighting for me, and that thought gives me the strength to keep resisting, even as Nathaniel's world tries to devour me.