Forever Violet

  She snorts a laugh. “Not if you’re me.” She cracks her fingers. “I’m seriously bad ass.”

  “Maybe you should train me, then.”

  “I’ll definitely help.”

  “Awesome.” I eye the bottle of glittering liquid, desperate to hear more about the werewolf world. “Fuck it. Here goes nothing.” I put the mouth of the bottle to my lips and down a small swallow. The taste of sweet peaches, luminous sunshine, and magical warmth spills down my throat. “Yummy,” I murmur, then take another drink, then another, practically glugging down half the bottle.

  “Easy, my little daredevil friend.” Liberty pries the bottle from my fingers. “You might not feel the effects now, but you definitely will in a few minutes.” She raises the bottle to her lips and swigs down a long swallow. When she lowers the bottle from her mouth, I cock my brow at her. She gives me an innocent look. “What? I needed to catch up.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” I make grabby hands at the bottle again.

  She tucks the drink behind her. “No way. If you drink anymore, you’re going to end up dancing all night.”

  Crap. “This stuff makes you dance?”

  She nods. “Yeah, most faerie magic does.”

  “Oh.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing. I just sometimes like to dance when I’m a normal drunk, so I have a feeling this is going to end in disaster.”

  Her grin is pure wickedness. “A disaster of fun.”

  I mirror her grin. I don’t even know why, other than I feel dizzily happy.

  “So, are you going to tell me what this alter dime animated doohickey thing is?” My voice sounds far away as a sparkling wave of calm lulls over me.

  She giggles. “You mean, alterum dimidium animae?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.” I stretch my legs out underneath the table, getting comfortable.

  “That’s so not what you said.” She giggles again, then hiccups. “Excuse me.”

  I laugh. “You hiccup like a mouse.”

  “And you snore like a gremlin.”

  “Hey, how do you know I snore?”

  “Because I’m your best friend.” She leans forward, pounds her fist against the table, and laughs. “And as your best friend, I know all your secrets.”

  “But that’s not what we’re supposed to be talking about,” I remind her, sneaking the bottle back. Keeping the bottle under the table, I discreetly unscrew the cap. “You’re supposed to be telling me why Shade thinks Jules has never been with any other werewolf and never will be.” I hurriedly lift the bottle to my lips and down a swallow.

  “You little thief.” She grabs the drink from my hand, plops it down on the opposite side of the booth, and points a finger at me. “No more trickery from you.”

  “Only if you tell me what in the love of madness is going on with Jules and me?”

  She pauses, eyeing me closely. “Do you feel it, too?”

  I give a lazy shrug. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “The connection. Like, every time you’re around him, you want to kiss him and touch him—be one with him.”

  “That sounds like a bad romance cliché right there.”

  “Lake, I’m being serious,” she whines, stomping her foot. “I need to know if you feel anything at all so I can decide just how much to tell you.”

  “I really don’t know how I feel.” The room spins around me in bright colors. Well, either that or my head’s spinning. “Do I like Jules? Sure. He seems nice. But I just met him a few days ago. I barely know him, and he barely knows me. Well, it feels like I know him, well, sometimes. Or well, like, I want to get to know him better. And he has really pretty eyes and the softest lips. I kind of like how he always holds my hand, although I do pull away because I’m me. And then there’s the kissing. Yeah, that sort of freaks me out, yet lights me on fire. It’s all very conflicting …” I trail off, my brows pulling together. “Wait. What was I saying?”

  The goofy grin on her face makes me smile.

  “You were saying what I needed to hear.” She props her elbow on the table and rests her cheek against her hand. “And you feel all those things because Jules is your alterum dimidium animae.” My lips part to demand for her to explain that damn word, but she beats me to the punch. “Alterum dimidium animae means second half, which means that, together, Jules and you make up a whole, but when you’re apart, you’re just a half.”

  I lower my head to the table. “That explains nothing, but does put strange images into my head of Jules and I walking around with half our bodies.”

  She bites back a smile. “I’m not talking about your bodies. I’m talking about your wolf souls.”

  “Wolf souls?”

  “It’s pretty much like a normal soul except, since we’re also one with our wolf, it shares our soul, too.”

  “This is all very confusing.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it is. But at the same time, it really isn’t. It’s basically like having a soulmate for both you and your wolf. It doesn’t happen to every werewolf. Only the lucky ones find their alterum dimidium animae.”

  I blink at her. “So, Jules is my soulmate? And his wolf is my wolf’s soulmate?”

  She shakes her head, deepening my confusion. “No, you’re his soulmate, and your wolf is his. But you and your wolf haven’t claimed Jules and his wolf as yours. Well, unless your eyes go violet around him.” She squints as she examines my eyes.

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” I brush my hair out of my face as I sit up straight. “So, let me get this straight. Jules got stuck with me as his soulmate, and I’m guessing it’s been a while since he spoke of having that alter … rim dillydally thing before I vanished, but he might not end up being mine?”

  She studies me closer. “Does it upset you that he might not be?”

  “I don’t know how I feel about it.” Honestly, if I wasn’t drunk on faerie magic, I might be freaking out by now, which is probably why Liberty gave me the drink to begin with. “But I do feel bad for him. I mean, not only does he get stuck with a hot mess of a werewolf who disappeared for a decade, only to return to his life without any memory of him, but he might not even end up my alter dil … mmm … Okay, I’m really starting to hate that phrase.”

  “Alterum dimidium animae,” she enunciates. “Now repeat it.”

  It takes me a few tries before I finally get it right. She praises me with a round of applause, and I laugh, even when werewolves gawk in our direction.

  “It still seems really unfair to Jules,” I state with a sigh. “I mean, what happens if someone else ends up becoming my alterum dimidium animae?” Even the magic sloshing around in my veins can’t hide how disappointed I feel about becoming soulmates with another werewolf.

  “Then he lives his life loving you, while you live your life loving someone else. He’ll probably never be with anyone else, either, unless he pulls a Shade, gets drunk, and starts sleeping around.”

  “That is the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

  “It hasn’t been written yet, so don’t get too depressed.”

  “I don’t feel depressed. I feel droopy.”

  “That’s the magic talking.”

  I let out a slow sigh. “Poor Jules.”

  She pats my head. “Don’t worry; I have a feeling this isn’t going to turn out like my parents’ story.”

  I recline back in the booth. “Your parents aren’t alterum dimidium animae?”

  She ravels a strand of her hair around her finger, dazing off at the dance floor. “Not with each other. My mom had one, but …” She shrugs. “He died. And then she got chosen for queen and got stuck with my father.”

  “So, if another princess gets chosen for queen, then Jules will have to marry her and love her?” I press my hand to my chest where I’m fairly certain my heart is aching, but the magic almost immediately numbs the feeling.

  “He won’t love her, just like my mom never loved my father. He’ll just
be stuck pretending that he loves her and procreating little wolf cubs.” She unravels her hair from her finger. “I don’t think we should worry about that for now, though, considering the last crowning ceremony didn’t choose a princess. Makes me think it might’ve been waiting for you.”

  “No way. I’d make a terrible queen. And crowns look funky on my head.”

  “Do you often sport crowns?”

  “Only once on Halloween, and it was a paper crown, but it still looked weird on me.”

  “I’m not sure what this Halloween thing is, but I can assure you, our crowns are far better than paper ones.” She scoots to the edge of the booth and springs to her feet. “Now, enough talk about werewolves’ strange traditions. It’s time to dance.” She jiggles her hips and grins.

  While I want to learn more about these strange traditions, the urge to dance is much greater.

  I jump to my feet and meet her at the front of the table.

  “We should make Kylan dance with us. He hates it.” She snickers then crooks a finger at Kylan who’s still lingering by the front door.

  With a tolerant shake of his head, he pushes his way across the room. “What?” he grunts when he reaches us.

  She dazzles him with a grin. “We want to dance.”

  He rolls his eyes, but offers her his hand. “Fine.”

  “You said he didn’t talk,” I whisper as she places her hand in his.

  “He has a ten-word vocabulary.” She winks at him. “Right, Kylan?”

  A ghost of a smile dances on his lips. “Whatever.”

  “See? That’s three.” She holds up three fingers and puts them close to my face, making me go cross-eyed. “Only seven more to go, and you’ll truly know him.”

  Kylan’s gaze bores into Liberty’s. “Did you steal the winged magic drink again?”

  I scratch my head. “That was more than seven words. Actually, it feels like you’ve said eleven hundred.”

  Liberty snickers, and Kylan sighs.

  “No more faerie drinks.” He wags his finger at both of us, then focuses on Liberty. “And stop telling her I don’t speak.”

  “You usually don’t,” she tells him as she drags him toward the dance floor, motioning for me to follow. “You must like Lake.”

  He rubs the back of his head, flattening his hair down. “I knew her once.” He glances at me from my peripheral vision. “We practice fought with each other sometimes during training.”

  “We did?” I perk up. Well, I perk up more since the faerie drink is making me feel like I’m sprouting wings myself.

  He nods. “We did. You were pretty good.”

  “Awesome.” I fist pump the air, and Liberty laughs.

  “All right, drunk dancing time!” she cheers then spins around and loops her arm around the back of Kylan’s neck. “You have to dance with Lake, too. She doesn’t have a partner, and I don’t think it’d be a good idea for her to find one in here.”

  “Definitely not.” Kylan offers me his hand.

  I tentatively place my palm in his and breathe in relief when fear doesn’t lash through me. Whether it’s the faerie wine or the fact that Kylan seems nice, who knows, but I seize the moment and start spinning around and shimmying my hips.

  “You know how to dance?” Liberty asks as the three of us sway to the rhythm of the song playing.

  I nod, throwing my head back and stretching my arms above my head. “Yeah. I actually danced in the Common Realm a lot with Legend.”

  “Your vampire friend?” Liberty asks, and I nod. “He’s pretty hot, right? I think I’ve met him a couple of times.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s …” I shrug again. “Legend.”

  She sways her hips while holding Kylan’s waist. He seems tense as fuck dancing with her.

  “What does that even mean?” she asks me.

  I brace my hand on Kylan’s rigid shoulder as the room spins faster around me. “It means, he’s my best friend, and yeah, he’s attractive, but I’m not attracted to him.”

  “That’s good to know.” The deep voice that comes from right behind me makes my heart flutter.

  Jules.

  Kylan shuffles away from me, making me question if he knows about the alterum dimidium animae.

  Liberty curses. “Aw, shit.”

  I turn around. “Hey,” I say stupidly, and then add to the stupidity by waving.

  His gaze cuts to Liberty. “I said no going to bars.”

  “Yeah, well, we needed a drink.” She stomps up beside me and puts her hands on her hips. “And to have a girl chat.”

  Jules crosses his arms, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “You could’ve done both those things at my house.”

  “You’re right.” She points a finger at him. “But we couldn’t have any lovely winged drink at your place, could we now?”

  Fury flames in Jules’ eyes. “You gave her some of that?”

  Liberty nonchalantly shrugs. “Yeah. So what? She liked it. Although, she drank way more than I recommended.”

  Jules shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have let her drink it. She’s not used to our magic and our drinks.”

  “Hey, I’m fine,” I say. At least, I think I say it. My words are starting to slur together.

  His anger diminishes as his gaze slides to me. “Don’t say that yet. The drink becomes more potent by the hour.”

  I glance at my bare wrist, pretending I have a watch. “I’m pretty sure it’s been an hour already.”

  He sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I think you have no clue what time it is, what day it is, or where you are.”

  “That’s not true at all,” I assure him with fake confidence. “It’s noon o’clock, on a weekend day, and I’m at a bar with my soulmate. Well, not my soulmate, but I’m his …” I cover my mouth as my words register through the haze in my brain.

  “And that’s my cue to leave.” Liberty makes a beeline for a set of double doors at the back of the bar with Kylan trailing at her heels.

  “Liberty.” Jules starts to turn to chase after her, but stops. “Fuck,” he whispers with his head lowered. “This isn’t how you were supposed to find out.”

  Acting on pure instinct, I move in front of him, cup his face between my hands, and force him to look up at me. “This isn’t a bad way for me to find out,” I attempt to reassure him. “I feel perfectly fine.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see if you feel that way when the magic wears out of your system.”

  “Maybe I still won’t care.”

  “I think you will.”

  “But maybe I won’t.” I circle my arms around the back of his neck, and his eyes slightly widen. “It doesn’t seem that awful for you to be connected to me in that way. I mean, you seem nice. Well, when you’re not pissed off. And you’re super pretty.”

  His brow rises as he settles his hands on my waist. “I’m not pretty.”

  “Yes, you are.” I sketch my fingers along his tattooed arms and his pierced lips. “Even with all the tattoos and piercings.” I comb my fingers through his hair, and he all but purrs. “Honestly, I kind of like the tattoos and piercings. I never really have before when it comes to guys. Then again, I’ve never really been attracted to anyone before.” Pain briefly pierces my heart at the reason, but the feeling swiftly fades into a sea of dizziness.

  He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a faltering breath. “While I love hearing all of this, I really think you shouldn’t say anything else about it until the magic is out of your system.”

  “Okay, I can to do that.” But that doesn’t mean I want to stop touching him. I want to touch him more. And seeing no reason not to, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.

  A throaty moan fumbles from his mouth as he winds his hands around to the small of my back.

  “Lake,” he whispers, breaking our connection.

  I leave him no time to protest, kissing him again. This time, he kisses me back, delving his fingernails into my back as he struggles to breath
e and keep us from falling over.

  I wonder what the kiss is like for him. If he feels the same fire blazing inside him, too. I wonder if he likes kissing me, or if the alterum dimidium animae is the driving force behind his want for me.

  I pull back at the thought, even dizzier than before. “I have a question.”

  He stares at me dazedly and confused, high off the kiss. “Okay …” He can barely concentrate on anything other than my lips.

  “What do you feel when …?” The words are choked out of me as a new scent wafts through the air.

  Moonlight mixed with … black roses?

  I’m not even certain how I know what black roses smell like, but the air currently reeks of it. And I’ve smelled it before. It takes me a dragging number of seconds to think past the faerie magic and figure out where.

  The alleyway in the Common Realm.

  The alleyway where I was attacked.

  The smell didn’t register to me then, but it definitely does now, probably because my wolf senses are heightening.

  My heart hammers as I skim the werewolves dancing around me. But I can’t spot either of my attackers anywhere, and the scent soon fades.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I groan, hunching over and clutching my waist.

  “Dammit, Liberty, I knew her body wasn’t ready for our drinks yet.” Jules scoops me up in his arms and carries me toward the door. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Under normal circumstances, I’d probably protest him carrying me, but not when I’m doped up on faerie magic, feeling like I’m about to yack my guts out.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Jules murmurs as we step out into the warm sunshine.

  “No, I don’t think I am,” I groan, pushing my palm against his chest. “Put me down. I’m going to throw up.”

  I expect him to drop me the moment the words leave my lips, but he carries me while rounding the side of the bar. Then he carefully and very gently sets me down onto the ground.

  “Ugh,” I moan as vomit burns the back of my throat. I crouch down as my stomach lurches. “I’m never going to drink anything from this realm ever again.”

  “Shh …” Jules crouches down beside me, brushing my hair back. “It’ll just take some time for your body to get used to the magic, but I promise, it’s not always this bad. In fact, under the right circumstances, getting drunk on magic is fun.”