33. Violet

33

VIOLET

I stare down at the list I've compiled, my hand shaking slightly as I read over the details of that fateful night. It feels surreal to see it all laid out like this - the terror, the confusion, the pain. But I know it's necessary.

Caine and Thorne are talking quietly by the window, occasionally glancing my way. I can feel the weight of their concern, but I'm grateful they're giving me space to work through this on my own.

The door opens, and Flint slips back in. His expression is grim but not worried as he approaches me.

"How did it go?" I ask softly.

He sits beside me on the bed, taking my hand. "It was informative. My dad's here investigating the possible ward breach and murder."

"Possible ward breach? Does that mean they think someone already inside did it? "

Flint nods. "Yeah, but I gave you an alibi knowing that Blackthorne heard the accusations earlier, I figured I'd get in front of it. He also said he's cut ties with Nathaniel. Apparently, he didn't know the full extent of what that bastard was doing."

"Do you believe him?" I ask, searching Flint's face.

He hesitates. "I want to. But even if he's telling the truth, it doesn't change what happened to you."

I squeeze his hand. "No, it doesn't. But it's good to know we might have one less obstacle to deal with."

Caine and Thorne join us, their expressions serious.

"What else did your father say?" Thorne asks Flint.

"He's worried about the implications of someone inside MistHallow being capable of such a brutal act."

"So, what now? Do we still go ahead with the ritual?" I ask.

Thorne nods. "We have to. Breaking your bond with Nathaniel is crucial, especially now. We can't risk him having any influence over you with everything that's going on."

"I have to ask…" I trail off, feeling ridiculous for this thought, but I don't know how these things work. "Is he even still alive? I staked him, and he turned to ash."

Silence.

Blinking.

Thoughtful expressions.

Well, that was a showstopper .

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say, yes, he is," Thorne states eventually. "You aren't grieving him or feel any pain in his death. Right?" His gaze bores into mine, searching for answers.

"Not that I know of, but that doesn't mean he's still alive. If he was the centre of that whatever it was?—"

"Thrall."

I give Thorne a smile. "Thanks. Thrall, then, maybe?" I shrug.

"We have to assume he is still alive," Caine says. "We do the ritual, and you are free. If he is dead already, then no harm, no foul."

"He's right," Flint agrees. "The sooner we do this, the better, and we know for sure you aren't under his control anymore."

I take a deep breath. "The list is as complete as I can make it. I've written down everything I can remember; from the moment I fled my house to when Nathaniel caught me."

Thorne gently takes the list from me, scanning it quickly. "This is good, Violet. It gives us a lot to work with for recreating the scene."

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Flint asks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand. "We can wait if you need more time."

I shake my head. "No, I want to do this now. The sooner we break this bond, the better."

Caine nods approvingly. "That's the spirit, snowdrop. So, what I think we should do is a dummy run. Maybe two or three. That way if you remember anything or you realise the timeline written down is off, we can adjust."

"Good idea," Thorne says. "Are you up for that, princess?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

"Flint and I need to collaborate to make sure we get the recreation spell right, so tomorrow night. We will head to the far edge of the forest. There is a stretch of field at the back that will suit our purposes. We will have to break three sets of wards without anyone noticing. Thorne?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

"You say that like it's not a problem," I accuse with a frown.

"Well, it's complex, but it's not impossible. My Fae magick is, erm, how do I put this in terms you will understand?"

"Excuse me?" I snap. "You think I need a Dummies Guide?"

He snorts. "Well, sort of. But it's not a diss against you, sweetness. It's stuff you won't know. Vampires, weres, witches, warlocks, they are here." He holds his hand up. "Fae, Dragons, Demons are here." He holds his other hand higher. "Another level, another plane."

"But you're here on this plane," I say, admitting confusion. Maybe I do need a Dummies Guide.

"Here, let me," Flint interrupts. "Did you ever read books or watch television about supernatural creatures? "

"Yeah, some. I liked Buffy."

"Okay, so basically, you know about paranormal and fantasy?"

I nod, getting more confused by the second.

"It's like that. Fantasy creatures come from different worlds; paranormal creatures are from Earth." He smiles at me. "I like Buffy too."

I return his smile. "So, for the purposes of this conversation, you guys are fantasy creatures, and the wards are paranormal?"

"Yes," Thorne says.

"But I thought Flint said his dad made the wards?"

"Only parts of them. With Flint's blood, I can dismantle those easily enough, the rest will be easy."

"Do the staff know this?" I gulp. "And if it's so easy for you, a student, why are we assuming no one else could dismantle them from the other side?"

"Because I am a kickass Dark Fae noble with more power in my pinkie than most creatures have put together."

My mouth drops open at the enormity of this. "Okay, well, I guess I have to take your word for it."

I try to process everything they're telling me about the wards and their different levels of power. It's a lot to take in, but I'm grateful they're explaining it to me and not making me feel dumb about it.

"So, just to be clear," I say slowly, "you guys are essentially saying you're more powerful than some of the staff here? "

Caine smirks. "Pretty much, yeah. At least when it comes to raw power. They have more knowledge and experience, of course, and that only stands with the, erm, paranormals."

I shake my head in amazement. "Wow. Okay. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh?—"

Flint interrupts my amazement with a soft chuckle. "Impressed, baby girl?"

"Fuck you," I mutter. "Big headed jerk."

He snorts. "Fuck, I love you."

I close my eyes as those words hit me in my undead heart. I open them to find him staring at me, hopeful and cute as fuck. "I love you too," I whisper.

He grins and leans forward to kiss me quickly.

"But we still need to be careful not to draw attention to ourselves," Thorne comments. "We will get our arses kicked from here to the middle of next week if we get caught."

"Or expelled," I murmur. "I can't?—"

"You won't," Caine says. "And even if you did, I would keep you safe, snowdrop. I would take you home with me where he could never find you."

I practically melt into a puddle of goo at his intense gaze and protectiveness.

"Right," I nod, pulling myself together, confident that they won't leave me on my own out in the big, bad world. "So, what's the plan exactly? We go out there tomorrow night and do a practice run?"

Flint squeezes my hand. "That's the idea. We'll recreate the scene based on your notes, and you'll walk us through it. If anything feels off or you remember new details, we can adjust."

"And then what?" I ask. "Once we have it right, do we just do the ritual?"

Thorne shakes his head. "Not quite. We'll need to time it precisely with the moment of your turning. That's why getting the details right is so crucial."

I take a deep breath, a sense of anticipation and anxiety cloaking around me. "Tomorrow night, then."