Mate.
Pain ricochets through my body. Is it wrong that I assumed she would be overjoyed by the news? When I first understood the reasons for my feelings—that she was made specifically for me—I wanted to sing it from the rooftops. Confess my feelings to the sun and moon. Violet? She had run.
Taking my entire heart with her.
Focusing on her now, I study the minuscule changes that have occurred in the last week. Same pert nose and luscious lips. Same glimmering eyes, as if she is in the know of a secret. Same petite body with surprisingly generous curves. But…
“You have highlights in your hair,” I note abruptly. I have the irrational urge to grab one of the silky strands and inhale her fruity scent.
A pleased smile blossoms on Violet’s face as she grabs one of the white curls and inspects it in the hallway lighting.
“You’re the first to have noticed.”
I shove my hands into my back pockets and rock back and forth. Silence stretches between us, so fragile I don’t dare attempt to break it. The tension in the room is so thick, I’m practically gagging on it.
It’s Violet who speaks first. “Frankie…” She blows out a breath, hands bunching into white-knuckled fists. Like me, she appears to be at a loss for words.
Which proves how royally I fucked up. Dracula’s crazy, eccentric daughter is never quiet.
“I screwed up,” I admit at last, forking my fingers through my too-long hair. It’s in desperate need of a trim, the errant strands brushing my eyes. “I should’ve never kept the truth from you about Headmaster Lupine. And I definitely shouldn’t have put your life on the line in order to prove myself to you.” My mistakes and transgressions are piling up on me, like dirt burying a steel coffin. The thing I regret the most? Hurting the woman standing before me. Heart palpitating, I drop to my knees before the golden-haired goddess. “I refused to get on my knees for my father. He wanted to use me—to mold me into his perfect monster. He taught me that love was a weakness that should be eradicated like a disease, and I think a part of me believed that. That’s no excuse for my behavior.” I scrub at my jawline, muscles clenching as I prepare myself for her inevitable rejection.
Why would she want to be with a monster like me? A creature built in a lab instead of a womb? A man who isn’t truly a man, but a beast?
“We can take things slow,” I plead, staring up into her hooded eyes. “Learn about each other. And I won’t begrudge you if you choose to pursue a relationship with the other guys.”
Please give me a chance. Let me prove myself to you. Prove that I can be a mate worthy of your love and affection.
When Violet doesn’t immediately answer, her face drawn tight, my heart plummets, bottoming through my stomach. I’ve prepared myself for her rejection—had even thought myself strong enough to endure it—but the full force of my emotions takes me by surprise. Disappointment, pain, and yearning.
Crippling anguish washes over me, and I climb to my feet, lowering my head like a kicked puppy. Fuck, why did I think she would forgive me? All I want to do is eat my bodyweight in chocolate and lick my wounds in private. I’ve just turned to retreat when Violet grabs my hand, halting my progress. I can’t stop the embers of hope flickering to life in my stomach.
“Where are you going?” she huffs, releasing my arm to put her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Ask you?” I furrow my brows in confusion.
“On a date.” She rolls her eyes, as if that should’ve been obvious.
A date.
With Violet.
My metaphorical heart kickstarts as a slow smile curls up my lips. I quickly try to mask it—a product of my father’s cruel lessons—before stifling that impulse. This is Violet, not my father. I’m allowed to smile in front of her. I’m allowed to show emotion.
“Oh, what the hell,” Violet murmurs, more to herself than to me. “I am a fierce, independent woman. And this is the twenty-first century. I can ask a guy on a date if I want.”
Is she expecting a response?
Before I can formulate something moderately intelligent, she places a manicured hand on my chest. “Frankie?” She peers up at me through her fringe of fluttery lashes. My breath hitches in my throat at the sheer perfection of the woman before me… But that awe quickly turns into worry as her eyes continue to blink rapidly.
“Violet, are you having a seizure?” I ask anxiously, hovering my hands just above her shoulders but not daring to touch.
Her eyes narrow dangerously at my question, and her lips purse. “I’m attempting to be coy, dammit.”
“Oh, um, good job?” When she continues to glare up at me, I finally give in to my baser impulse and place my hands on her shoulders. “Carry on.”
“Frankie, will you go on a date with me?” she asks at last, and it feels as if I can finally breathe. Before, the room had been devoid of oxygen, as if a vacuum had sucked it all out. In her presence, my lungs are finally able to take in that precious air.
“Yes,” I whisper as something akin to giddiness courses through me.
When the fuck have I ever been giddy before?
Violet smiles, leaning forward to peck me on the cheek. My skin tingles from the connection, and I can’t stop the dopey grin from appearing on my face.
“I need to get to my next class, but I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” With another smile aimed at me, she skips down the hall towards where Hux is waiting for her. At least, I assume it’s him and not his kinder alter ego. Only Hux is capable of looking like he wants to write “H hearts V” on
