Page 10 of Forever Violet


  But your parents lived here too. And so did you once.

  “It is, but until we can figure out where the vines come from and how to get rid of them, there’s nothing we can do about it. And unfortunately, my father doesn’t seem to care very much about it. Even for my mom’s sake.”

  “I’m sorry.” Unsure what else to do, I place a hand on his arm. “I mean, that your mom’s sick. That’s got to be hard.”

  He stares down at my hand on his arm with a crinkle at his brow. “You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve suffered through way worse than I ever have.”

  “I guess so, but I don’t really remember any of it.” Eventually, I will, though, I realize then. At least, according to Jules, which means I’ll relive what happened the day my parents were murdered and the day my memory was wiped.

  A shiver courses through my body. What if what I see is nothing but blood-splattered memories straight out of a horror movie? After all, Jules said my parents were attacked by werewolves.

  I wrap my free arm around my waist, recalling how my wounds wept blood the day I was attacked. So much blood. All over me. All over the ground. All over Legend. My blood.

  I would’ve died if Legend hadn’t used his vampire super speed to run me to the hospital. It took over a hundred stitches to patch me up. The scars that remain aren’t pretty, but they do remind me of the harm paranormals—werewolves—can cause. Up until now, I’ve used that reminder to keep my distance from most magical creatures. But, look at me now, standing on a balcony, with my hand on a werewolf’s arm. I wonder if that makes me weak or strong.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Jules lays a hand over mine, careful not to let the silver rings connect with my skin. “We use a different source of drinking water now. And as long as you stay off the land, in the field with the thorns, you’ll be all right.”

  That worry hadn’t once crossed my mind, but I guess it’s nice to know.

  “Is there a cure for the sickness your mom has?”

  He rotates his body to face me and folds his ring-less hand around mine. “Not that I know of, but my father hasn’t been very invested in finding a cure. He’s too busy roaming from pack to pack, questioning the leaders about the vines. Or so he says.”

  “Have you ever thought of searching for a cure yourself?”

  “I have, and I’ve found a few spells that have slowed down the damages of the illness, but the effects only last a couple of days, and then the symptoms come back full-force.”

  “What’re the symptoms?”

  “They resemble the after effects of a wilting soul spell, but she hasn’t lost her soul, so that can’t be what’s cursed her or the land.”

  “A wilting soul spell? That sounds awful.”

  He reclines against the railing, turning my hand over so my palm is facing the sky “It is. The spell’s very rare. Only a higher mountain witch can cast one.”

  “I’m guessing those are very powerful witches,” I state, and he nods. “So, why don’t you just track one down and have them try to get rid of your mom’s illness? I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

  He gives me a funny look. “It’s a very good idea, and I’ve thought about doing it many times, but they’re hard to track down. And most of them reside in the Sun Moon Realm. I don’t have clearance to enter there.”

  “I thought paranormals could travel to any realm without clearance, except for the Common Realm.”

  “Most can, but werewolves have been banished from the Sun Moon Realm.”

  “Why? What’d you do?” I’m half-joking, half-worried.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he insists. “My father did.”

  The more he speaks of his father, the less I’m looking forward to meeting the Violet Mountain pack king. “Okay, then what did he do?”

  “He stole a witch.”

  I stare at him blankly. “He stole a witch?”

  He raises a shoulder. “That’s what I said.”

  “I know, but … who steals a witch? And how? And didn’t the witch cast a spell on him for doing so?”

  “She couldn’t. He was in wolf form.”

  “So, witches can’t cast spells on werewolves when they’re shifted?”

  He shakes his head. “Very little can harm us when we’re our true selves.”

  I scrunch my nose. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my true self consists of messy hair, no makeup, and my pajamas, sitting in bed and streaming videos while I listen to Legend point out how unrealistic every movie is, especially the paranormal ones.”

  “What are videos?”

  “You don’t have videos here?” Lovely.

  “What are they? Maybe if you tell me, I can get you some.”

  “They’re these things—recordings of people acting out scenarios—and you watch these recordings to entertain your mind when you’re bored.”

  Curiosity sparks in his eyes. “And what sort of things are these people doing?”

  “All sorts of things. Like, saving the world, getting chased by zombies, doing extraordinary things, falling in love.”

  “But, isn’t it much better to do that stuff in real life, instead of watching someone else live these experiences?”

  “I guess so.” His statement really makes me overanalyze the last decade of my life. “But life is pretty dull in the Common Realm, and not a lot of people can do things like save the world and get chased by zombies.”

  His tongue traces along his upper lip. “But they can fall in love?”

  I nod. “That’s the one thing they’re actually good at. But they don’t fall in love like paranormals do. Or, at least how Legend told me vampires do.”

  He stares down at my hand as he sketches a line along my palm. “And how did he say vampires fall in love?”

  My teeth sink into my tongue as a shiver threatens to quiver through me. “Well, he told me that it takes them a very long time to find the love of their life, a few centuries at least. But when they do find their one and only, they love them for eternity. Which seems a little extreme if you ask me. I mean, vampires are immortal. That means they love the same vampire forever. Literally.”

  His gaze elevates to mine. “You don’t buy into the theory that a vampire can love only one vampire forever?”

  I lift a shoulder. “I’m sure it’s true for vampires, but I spent a lot of my life living around humans, and it definitely doesn’t work that way for most of them. Maybe a few, but not all of them.”

  He absentmindedly nods. “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  “Yeah, all the time,” I tease. “In fact, I try to fall in love every week, at least. But it’s actually quite tiring—falling in love, I mean—so I’ve been on sort of a love sabbatical for the last few months.”

  He rolls his tongue in his mouth, suppressing a grin. “So, falling in love is tiring? Glad to know. Guess I’ll try to avoid it, then.”

  “You probably should.”

  “I definitely will.”

  “Good.” I can’t stop a smile from rising on my face. “You know I’m just kidding, right? I’ve never actually been in love. I’ve barely been able to talk to anyone over the last decade, well, minus Legend, let alone give my heart and soul to someone.”

  A bit of relief combined with concern washes across his expression. “Did humans not talk to you while you were in their realm?”

  “No, they did talk to me sometimes, but the stuff they said wasn’t very nice and only required a one-sided conversation.” I pretend to be engrossed with the view to the side of me.

  He cups my chin and turns my face toward his. “What sort of stuff did they say to you?”

  “It doesn’t really matter. After I turned eighteen, I didn’t have to be around people anymore.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugs, his gaze blazing with such intensity that I expect his eyes to shimmer violet again. But they remain a
piercing, persistent blue. “Because I want to know what your life’s been like. I want to know what happened to you when you left here. I want to …” He pauses, taking a measured breath. “I want to know all about you.”

  “My life in the Common Realm wasn’t that fascinating,” I assure him. “It pretty much consisted of bouncing around foster homes, going to school, and working. Humans weren’t fans of me, so I tried to keep my distance as much as possible. It got kind of lonely, yet I never really wanted their company, which really never made any sense. But it’s how I felt.”

  “You probably felt disconnected because you weren’t surrounded by your own kind.” He lowers his hand from my chin, positions himself in front of me, and places his hands on the railing, pinning me between his arms. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. That I didn’t save you that day.” He gazes off over my shoulder, a portrait of regret. “I should’ve saved you.”

  “What happened to me wasn’t your fault,” I tell him, thrown off by his sadness. Why does he care so much about this? About me? What isn’t he telling me? “You were like, what? Eight years old? How were you supposed to save me?”

  “Because I should’ve … I should’ve gotten to you quicker.”

  I can hear the sizzling of skin scalding. I want to reach back and flick his fingers away from those damn rings, but his arms secure me where I stand.

  “Jules, what happened to me, it wasn’t your fault,” I try my hardest to alleviate some of his guilt.

  “You can’t even remember what happened.”

  “Yeah, so what? Just because you didn’t get to me in time, doesn’t make it your fault. Besides, you were a child, so even if you had gotten to me in time, I highly doubt the situation would’ve ended well. It probably would’ve ended worse … with more deaths.” A dull ache prods at the center of my heart. Desperate to get rid of the feeling and the sullen mood lingering between us, I aim for a joke. “And then who would’ve been around to figure out who I am and kiss me without my permission?”

  He doesn’t so much as crack a smile. “Do you know that werewolves love forever, too? We’re not immortal or anything, but we love just as fiercely as vampires. Maybe even more so.”

  “I didn’t know that. Honestly, I don’t really know much about werewolves.”

  He quietly sighs, his gaze meeting mine. “I know, and I’d like to change that.”

  “You want to teach me about werewolves?”

  My feelings about that are conflicted. On one hand, I don’t want to wander around this kingdom entirely clueless, but I’m also afraid of what I’ll learn about my kind and about myself.

  He nods. “Yes, if you’ll let me.”

  I exhale slowly. “I guess so. I mean, I’m here, so I probably should.”

  He frowns at my lack of enthusiasm. “Last night, you mentioned crossing paths with a couple of werewolves in the Common Realm. What were they like?”

  I keep a neutral expression, despite my pounding heart. “I don’t know. We barely crossed paths.”

  His eyes search mine. “They knew you, though.”

  I give an unsteady shrug, staring at my feet. “They called me Elora, but at the time, I didn’t know my real name.”

  He levels his gaze with mine. “What else did they say to you?”

  That they were going to hurt me, which they did.

  That they were going to break me, which they almost did.

  That they were going to kill me the moment Legend left my side, which they didn’t, but only because I’m here.

  “Not much, really.” My heart is thundering, about to explode and take me out with it. Not wanting to be in front of Jules when I break the fuck down, I duck under his arm. “I should probably take a shower and change before you show me around town.” My twitchy behavior is more than suspicious.

  Fortunately, Jules lets me off the hook, nodding his head.

  I think I might start liking him in that moment. Just a little bit, of course.

  “You have your own private bathroom.” He points inside the room at a door on the far back wall. “I think Legend said something about sending your backpack here, and that he’d try to do it before you woke up. But if you need clothes and stuff, I can get you some.”

  I lean to the side and spot my backpack in a chair beside the bed. “My bag’s here. I’ll probably need to pick up some new stuff, though. Legend made me pack light because he was afraid the guards at the portal would get suspicious.”

  “Okay, just tell me what you need and I’ll have someone pick stuff up for you.”

  “I can get it myself. I just need you to show me where the stores are.” I recall the coins Legend gave Rune last night. “Wait. What kind of money do you use here? And do you have converter stations?”

  He shakes his head. “No to the converter stations, and we use Midnight coins when we purchase stuff. But a lot of times, we just use magic.”

  “You have magic powers?” For some stupid reason, I glance at his fingers, like sparks are about to shoot from his fingertips.

  “All wolves have a little bit of magic. It’s what allows us to shift. I have a little bit more because I’m prince, and my father has the most. Well, my mother used to until she got sick.” Anguish seeps into his tone.

  The sting in my heart increases, almost as if I can feel the agony. “What sort of things can you do?”

  A lopsided smile tilts at his lips, then he leans in, his breath hot against my ear. My heartrate accelerates, and not out of fear. No, the emotions pulsating through my body are the exact opposite. “Maybe if you’re really lucky, I’ll show you exactly what I can do,” he whispers.

  This time, I can’t stop from shivering, my back arching, my chest pressing against his. He groans at the contact, sliding his hand across my hip, brushing his fingers along the sliver of flesh peeking out between the waistband of my skirt and shirt. The sliver of flesh branded with scars.

  Heat douses over me, and I step back, putting space between us.

  Worried he’ll somehow see what I keep locked away inside, I smile sweetly at him. “I think I’ll pass. I’ve already been shown plenty of stuff in my lifetime.” Then I snatch my bag, close the door, and lock myself in the bathroom.

  I flatten my back against the closed door, panting for air and sick to my stomach. My body and mind are left swimming in a whirlwind of confusion.

  Never have I reacted that way toward anyone before. After the werewolf attack, I could barely stand being touched. Then Jules enters my life and suddenly I’m letting him touch my scars after he whispers innuendos in my ear.

  My stomach churns with queasiness as the moment triggers a series of flashbacks.

  The werewolf’s disgusting tongue in my mouth.

  The foul stench of his breath.

  The unbearable heat of his body as he held me against the ground.

  The bruising pain of his grip.

  “You should be dead,” one of the werewolves whispers in my ear as he pulls my skirt up. “And you’re going to be once we’re finished with you.”

  Tears spill from my eyes as my soul ruptures.

  “First, we’re going to play.” He creeps his hand up my legs. “Then we’re going to kill you”

  “Why?” I managed to choke out.

  “Because your existence can’t be,” he whispered in my ear. “And this will kill him.”

  I never did figure out who he was. Maybe if I told Jules about what happened to me that day, he would know. Maybe he would know the werewolves who attacked me.

  The idea of doing so, of telling Jules how broken I am … How can I when I can hardly even stand thinking about that day?

  Moving away from the door, I strip my clothes off then climb into the shower, cranking the temperature up and letting the hot water momentarily burn away the painful memories.

  Chapter 14

  I spend way too long in the shower, but once I’m done, I have to face Jules, which means I may have to face another touching moment lik
e on the balcony since he seems pretty adamant about touching me, and my body seems to agree with him.

  Honestly, if we met—or I guess, reacquainted—over a year ago, I more than likely would’ve stayed on the balcony and tested the waters, letting him touch me. But a year ago and today are two entirely different lives—the life before the attack and this scared girl who barely exists after.

  After all the hot water runs out, I drag my ass out of the shower and dry off. I pull on a pair of cut-off shorts, a black tank top, and tie a plaid shirt around my waist. Then I slip on a pair of knee-highs and lace-up boots, trace my eyes with a drop of kohl eyeliner, and put on some lip balm because my lips are dry as hell. I don’t bother doing anything with my hair, letting the wavy, damp strands air dry. By the time I emerge from the bathroom, I’m dreading facing Jules again.

  Luckily, he’s not the creature sprawled across my now made bed.

  Wait? Who made my bed?

  “What’s with the frown, pretty, little wolf?” Legend remarks with his arms tucked behind his head.

  “Pretty, little wolf?” I flop down on the foot of the bed. “Please tell me you aren’t going to start calling me that.”

  “Okay, how about cute, tiny wolf?” He’s completely amused with himself.

  “Nope.”

  “Beautiful, tall, hairy creature?”

  I giggle. “Better, but not quite.”

  “Annoying, little shifter wolf?”

  “Maybe.” I turn my head toward him. “Or, you can just call me what you’ve always called me because, despite my newfound identity, I’m still the same old Lake.”

  “For now.” He sits up. “But eventually, you’ll change.”

  “I doubt that.”

  He proceeds with caution. “I don’t want to scare you, but you need to understand that just living in this realm will change you. Everything is different here. You’ll be surrounded by magic all the time. Not to mention the extra dangers.”

  “I know all about the dangers,” I assure him, shutting my eyes.

  “I know you do.” The mattress concaves as he scoots closer to me. “I just want to make sure you don’t experience any more of those dangers. Which is why I’m glad you decided to come here.”