Chapter 30

30

VIOLET

Holly's scream continues to bounce around my mind as if she's beside me now. But I'm alone, walking the edge of campus, around and around, wishing I could scream out the one that's echoing in my head. Rowan wanted to join me, naturally freaked out by the strength of my once-denied emotion, but I can't be around him. He can't touch me. I'm furious. Black-hearted, dark-souled murderous . Any influence by Rowan's magic would tip me over the edge, and I'd go to anybody I could find to shake information from them—physically pull some out if I could. Starting with Dashiell.

Now I don't know where to go. What to do.

Because this is Viktor.

Viktor harmed Holly. Did he intend for her to die? Because why do something to her mind that manifested days later if he aimed to murder Holly?

I can't think straight, and that makes me pissed. I always think straight.

Or I did. Look at the state of me recently.

The scene plays over and over as I stomp through the edge of the woods, mud splashing up my stockings. Holly screamed. And screamed. And screamed . She only stopped when her voice became too hoarse to continue.

Holly didn't register anything or anybody else the whole time.

Leif left after insisting it was his fault because Viktor must still know where he is, something I ignored at the time, but now can't fathom. Rowan attempted to calm me, but his magic prompted the opposite, and as Holly's parents attended to their daughter and nurses rushed in, I couldn't stand the situation any longer. Not only the screaming—the emotions that had her parents in a chokehold disturbed me more than Holly's hysterical mother screaming too, and that it's my fault.

I waited outside the room for Dorian to arrive, within minutes of my call to him, and walked away. Walked until I reached the academy and then set off on my circular route through my personal hell.

I'm useless now, but if Kai finds anything at all to locate Viktor or anybody associated with this plot against my father, I will not be useless. And if Holly suffered any permanent damage, once I get hold of Viktor or whoever inflicted this on my best friend, I will show them exactly how much like my father I am.

Only I'm more than him. I'm a necromancer, and I'll show Holly's attackers exactly how much like my father I am a second time. Maybe a third. Who knows how much magic energy necromancy would need for each reanimation?

My answer. Necromancy. I need to master the spell that I recently pushed away as wrong. The gentle, caring Eloise who refused to use her necromancy instilled this desire in me, but ironically, recently embracing my mother's side of me pushed away something I'd wanted to master my whole life. What have I become since the day Rowan and the bond tore open that part of me? I drag hair from my face. Not what I wanted.

I spend too much time around others currently, my mind already scrambled by repeated interactions that draw me closer and closer to the center of the world I've avoided my whole life. I've grown accustomed to this, but never realized how accustomed. People begin to see me as more than the weird, dangerous Blackwood girl, some now doubting her stories about necromancy.

But I am that and more.

A strange calm washes through me, soothing the frustration, as the light of realization brings me out of the darkness. Embrace what I truly am.

"Finally, you've stopped long enough for me to catch you." I spin around as Grayson speaks, and my heart jerks in response to his proximity. "Rowan told me what happened. He's worried. Asked me to find you."

"Have you killed many people, Grayson?" I ask evenly.

"What?" He's hoarse, darting a look around, as if I've a victim nearby. "Have you?"

"No, but I plan to." Grayson doesn't react. "I also plan to reanimate someone."

This time he stares, jaw slacker. "You want to create a construct?"

"No. I plan to kill somebody, use necromancy, and then kill them again."

"What the fuck, Violet?" he breathes out. "Who?"

I shrug. "Whoever deserves that treatment."

"Is this because of Holly? She wouldn't want you to."

"How do you know? Holly might like me to kill whoever harmed her." I tap the side of my head. "If she's still Holly."

"Don't say that." He takes my hands.

I scoff and pull them away. "Weren't you the one who believed she might be dead, or magically hurt? Why the positivity now?"

"Violet. Come back to the academy with me."

"No."

"Then let's go somewhere?" He half smiles. "Graveyard?"

"I can't reanimate days-old corpses, Grayson. Remember?"

"I wasn't suggesting that! It was a joke."

"But I do need to practice. You can help."

Grayson stumbles back. "Again, what the fuck, Violet? I'm not helping you. If anybody suspects I harmed a human, I'd be the dead one."

"I'm not asking you to kill anybody." I wrinkle my nose. "Though that could be useful, if we found the right candidate."

"Have you gone mad ?"

"Not a human. A witch."

"Right. That makes such a difference." He shakes his head. "You need to come with me. Now."

"Incorrect. I need to find something recently dead and practice my magic."

Grayson's eyes remain on mine as he pulls his phone out. "I'm calling Rowan."

"I doubt he'll help. Rowan doesn't agree with necromancy. At least, I don't think he does." I rub my cheek. "Best we don't tell him."

"You have seriously lost the plot, Violet."

Stepping forward, I close my hand around Grayson's, prizing the phone from his hand as our eyes lock. The evening that I admitted I want to seal the blood bond is with us both, my awareness of how great the need is becoming stronger in my current state of mind.

"I am not denying what or who I am any longer."

"You never have. But you're more than you were before Thornwood. You've let go of what you suppressed."

I move closer still, and tiptoe, lips close to his, hearing his quicker pulse. "Why are you shocked? You know who I am better than anybody."

His eyes search my face as he runs a hand down my hair. "Yes. And I also know what trouble yielding to the dark can cause."

"I must embrace what I am, including what we are. Fully."

Grayson's breath snags. "If you're offering your blood in return for my help, I don't do emotional blackmail."

"Grayson. That would be manipulative and unfair of me. And, although I desire everything we're resisting, I'm still unsure whether my blood will kill you."

"Everything?" he asks.

I place his phone into my blazer pocket. "Yes."

He sighs and touches my lips. "Do you understand how confused I am after the night you found Holly? How hard it is not knowing what happened between us meant to you?"

The night that never leaves me in the same way that Grayson is never far from my thoughts when he isn't around. His blood may be in my veins, but his touch also remains on my skin and lips since that night in his room, as if he's always beside me. And if Grayson is around, I fight the urge to lose myself to seizing the darker desires in his kiss. I fight losing myself to the us I glimpsed when my blood touched his mouth.

"I denied what I am, and by doing so denied how I strongly I want you. As I said, I will not do so any longer." Grayson's mouth parts but no words come out. "Don't be confused; the idea of losing you is inconceivable to me, and that night confirmed the strength of my emotions. I love you and will protect you, always."

He stares at me. "I never expected that."

"Oh. Well, it's true."

Grayson strokes my hair, and although he moves his face tentatively closer, his mouth hits as hard as the first kiss that sealed more than a moment between potential lovers. Each time we kiss, his blood fires in my veins, pushing me to understand that there's nothing potential about us and that we're more than lovers.

I tasted Grayson's blood the night Rory died and triggered the inevitable path of events. Did I attack Grayson in more than self-defense at the warehouse? Because the hybrid wanted his blood?

Grayson's energy surrounds me, his taste and scent drawing me in. I wasn't joking the day I told Grayson I worried I might bite him if we kissed, and if we yield to each other now, more than that will occur. I'm out of control following Holly's outburst, ready to claw at anything that offers me solace, and Grayson's darkness could give me that.

I could lose sight of where I am and of myself, as I always do with Grayson. My own blood rushes to the surface, and my grip on Grayson's hair is as firm as his on my heart and body.

But not now. Not here. I pull away before blood spills. "This isn't sensible. I've other things to do before we revisit our issues."

"Where are you going?" he says, as I begin to stride away, then swears beneath his breath. "Violet, don't kill anybody."

I sigh and keep walking. "Pay attention. I don't intend to yet; I'm looking for something that recently died in order to practice necromancy. Join me if you wish."

Grayson catches me in a heartbeat and his hand slips into mine. "You're the most frustrating, confusing person I have ever met. How can you say all those things, tell me how you feel, and walk away?"

"Because they're true but I am also busy."

He stops me and places a kiss on my forehead then his mesmeric green eyes meet mine. "I will love and protect you too, Violet. Whatever it costs me. Always."

His Petrescu eyes. "Whatever it costs," I repeat. "Yes."

Grayson's brow knits for a moment as he struggles to decipher my response. My words are not confirming Grayson should do whatever it costs to keep me safe. No. Due to that desire to love and protect, I will undeniably find myself in a position that costs me .