Chapter 11

“ S ilas Walker and Violet Delvaux,” the clerk says as she opens the door and we stand.

“Walker?” Violet says with a scrunch of her nose.

“I was never given a last name, so I took the pack last name,” I tell her and she looks down at the floor as we enter the room.

There are no guests, no witnesses, and the clerk calls someone from the office to watch the ceremony.

Violet wraps her arms around her middle, which is terrible, because it presses her silky white nightgown against her breasts.

The naughty little witch has pierced nipples, and I have no clue what to do with this information.

“I know what we should do with that information,” Thorin growls in the back of my mind, and I push him out of my head.

The last thing I need right now is my wolf mooning over Violet. She means nothing to me. She was once a friend, once the girl I loved, but now she is nothing.

“She is our mate and our bride, you fucking fool,” Thorin says and I push him even further away. He’s pissed, but I shake him out of my head as I stare down at Violet.

“Okay, we have our witness. We will keep this short and simple,” the clerk says. “Do you have any rings?”

“No,” Violet says for the both of us and the clerk looks uncomfortable but agrees, anyway.

She does her spiel and gets to the I dos of the ceremony. I want to bite my tongue. I want to swallow the words back up, but no matter how hard I resist, the traitorous words spill out of me.

“I do,” I say against my will.

“I do,” Violet says with a little less resistance, and I wonder if it’s because she’s coming up with a plan on how to get us out of this mess.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I shake my head, and Violet does the same, even though our feet move on their own accord, putting us toe to toe.

“This means nothing,” Violet whispers.

“Less than nothing,” I reply as I bend down and kiss her on the lips.

It’s quick, hardly even a friendly peck, but despite this, the same sensation that trickled through me fourteen years ago flashes through me again. I restrain myself, not chasing after that feeling.

Violet Delvaux is my enemy. Her grandmother wants to destroy my pack, my birthright, the people I vowed to take after.

It doesn’t matter if she’s my mate or my wife. She means nothing to me.

Violet holds our marriage license as we walk outside. A few men gawk at her in the small little white dress and I have to hold myself back from ripping out their eyes.

It’s not like I care, it’s just a matter of respect.

“Could you give me a ride home?” she asks, looking around as I reach my motorcycle.

“You didn’t fly your broom here?” I ask and she grimaces at me.

“That’s not a real thing. And I walked all the way here,” she says.

“Well, looks like you’ll have an even longer walk back. It’s not a good idea to be seen with each other.”

She sighs, but nods in agreement.

“I’ll let you know when I have information, we can see if the magic will let us annul this tomorrow.”

She looks down at our marriage license and then back at me.

“I never meant for this to happen.”

“Me either,” I reply, feeling like an asshole as I hop on my bike and speed away.

Thorin complains the whole ride home about how I disrespected his mate and how I need to go and apologize right now, but I ignore him.

I have a pack to run, and my morning has already been completely uprooted. It’s best we leave Violet to her own devices and act like none of this ever happened.

Pain laces through my entire body as I attempt to lie down in my bed. It’s a longing ache throughout every nerve ending that I don’t belong in this home. It’s wrong, so fucking wrong.

I scrub a hand down my face and turn on my side, every movement hurting. I’ve fought in this form and my wolf form and never felt this deep of an ache.

Not being able to tolerate it anymore, I stand and pass the small room. It feels a lot like it did this morning, like I need to go somewhere. I just don’t know where.

“Our wife’s house, you fucking idiot,” Thorin says.

I pace more; the tug gets tighter and tighter. It’s not like I know where she lives or if she wants me there. Hell, I don’t want to be there.

“I know where she lives.”

“Yeah, and how the fuck do you know where she lives?”

“She’s my mate. It’s my job to know everything about her,” Thorin says proudly.

“You’re fucking pathetic.”

“And you’re an annoying, stubborn asshole. I bet you’d feel so much better if you just went over there. I’ll lead the way,” Thorin nearly purrs the notion into my head.

“I hate you,” I complain.

“Then you hate yourself, stupid. Pack a bag. We’re going home,” Thorin says, and I swear I can picture the wolf grinning in the back of my mind.

I park my motorcycle in the gravel driveway next to an older, black Jetta. I’m not sure what I expected Violet’s home to look like, but the semi-disheveled mansion in front of me wasn’t it.

Parts of it look like it’s been repaired, while the rest of it needs serious work.

Is everything in this town falling to pieces?

Part of me wants to get back on my bike and get as far away from this home as I can. Yet, I won’t, because being here soothes me already. Some of the uncomfortable achy feeling is still there, but the pain is gone.

With my backpack tight against my shoulders, I sigh and walk up the pumpkin covered steps. There’s an uneaten cupcake on the porch, with teeth marks in the plastic. I groan and wipe a hand over my face.

“Did you fucking do that?” I check in with Thorin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, seemingly going to sleep.

I’ve never been so out of sync with my wolf, not since the first time I shifted. Thorin is going to need to learn some boundaries or else I may have to take matters into my own hands.

“I’d like to see you try.”

I exhale dramatically, tired of my wolf and this ridiculous situation. There are a few real cobwebs in the corners as I sigh and raise my hand to knock on the door, but before I get a chance, Violet is flinging the door open.

Relief flushes over her features. “Hi,” she whispers.

“I tried to stay at my place,” I say, feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable.

“But it hurt,” she says, and I nod in agreement. “Come in,” she says, holding open the door.

Unlike the exterior, the interior, or at least this section, is cozy and comfortable. She has candles burning throughout the space, and it smells like violets and jasmine… and muffins? Her decor is every indication that a witch lives here, with crystals, ritual tools, books, and other decor laden all over the place.

I feel at ease in her home, though I shouldn’t. She holds out an arm and I sit on her velvet, emerald green sectional. The walls are covered in occult art, and the antique coffee table is covered with open tomes that look ancient.

She flicks her wrist, a few out of place items moving quickly back into place before she comes and sits on the couch, her legs tucked under her. She’s wearing a fucking nightgown, again. At least this one is black.

Neither of us knows how to break the silence or talk about what’s happening. Whatever spell or hex she cast on us is strong, it goes beyond just the promise of being married.

Violet licks her lips and summons a journal and a pen with a flick of her wrist.

“Do you remember what exactly we said that night?”

“It was so long ago,” I tell her and she nods in agreement.

“I’m just trying to figure out what exactly we said to make this spell so strong with such specific requirements. I’ve, um…never cast anything like this before.”

I glance over at her as she taps the pen against her bottom lip in contemplation.

“What do you mean, don’t you cast spells all the time, ruining lives all around you?”

She sits up straighter, her dark brows furrowing as indignation takes over her features.

“I don’t know. Do you go running around ripping everyone’s throat out who dares to challenge you?” she asks.

“Only sometimes,” I reply, holding her gaze.

She shakes her head and starts writing in her journal. “I’m the coven’s healer,” she says softly and I have to stop my lip from twitching.

Violet was always so interested in science class and figuring out where we all came from. It makes sense that would be where her abilities fall.

“We need to remember what was said that night,” she says.

“I thought we were going to annul the marriage tomorrow?”

She rolls her eyes at me like I’m stupid and sighs. “The magic forced you to come over to my house with a bag packed. Do you really think it’s going to simply let us annul this marriage?”

“I suppose not.”

“The less we fight the magic, the better off we’ll be. We figure out what curse or whatever was cast that night and we work backwards from there. We keep it a secret until we find a way out of this.”

“Agreed,” I say, resting my head on the back of the couch.

Exhaustion is heavy in every fiber of my being. But I glance over in high alert as a gray, long-haired cat who looks like it’s seen better days jumps into Violet’s lap and glares at me. I didn’t think cats could glare, but it’s like his hatred is palpable in his yellow-stare.

I arch an eyebrow at the small beast, and he hisses at me, showing his small fangs.

“Walter,” she says, chastising him, petting down his fur. “That’s not very nice.”

“You named your cat Walter?” I ask, glaring down at the moody little thing.

“No, he told me his name when he found me. Walter is my familiar.”

Thank fuck Thorin is ignoring me right now, because I think he would have some choice words about the creature.

“He looks like he’s on his last life,” I say and Violet’s mouth drops.

She scoops up the cat and glares at me. With her standing, she looks like the powerful witch her grandmother wants her to be as her wand comes zipping through the room.

“You can be mad at me all you want, but you will not disrespect Walter in his own home. There are sheets in the hall closet, unless you’d like to sleep outside like the dog you are,” she says, pointing her wand at me.

I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “I meant no offense, Walter,” I say, a lie.

The cat bares his fangs to me again as Violet clutches him close.

“I know you don’t want to be here. I don’t want you here either, but it’s clear being near each other is what the magic demands. This is my house, and Walter is permanent. You’re temporary,” she says.

Temporary.

“I know, I always was,” I tell her and her face falls ever so slightly.

She doesn’t respond, just flicks her wand, blowing out all the candles at once, shrouding us in darkness.

“Tomorrow, we’ll work on solving the hex,” she says as she walks up the stairs with her cat, each step creaking while she goes, her nightdress shifting and showing more of her thigh with each step.

“You’re so fucked,” Thorin says, and I ignore him as I walk to the hall and grab some sheets.

I get curious as I explore the rest of the bottom level. The place is huge, and as I suspected some of the rooms need some vast remodeling. The kitchen, main living room, and foyer seem to be the only rooms completely finished, while everything else seems to be stuck in the past.

The kitchen in particular looks a mess, like she was baking, and I wonder if she was crawling the walls just as bad as I was.

“Doubtful,” Thorin says and I roll my eyes and keep exploring.

One door won’t open, despite using all my strength, and I just leave it, taking my place on the couch.

Can a man be in the doghouse when he didn’t even want to get married in the first place?