Violet brought herself up the few steps of the house, landing herself at the giant front door. It swung open before she could touch it, revealing a gaudy and hideous inside. This mansion was decked out for the Richie Riches of the world, clearly, because no normal person would ever decorate a house like this.
No normal person had a house like this.
She moved into the first room on the left, walking into a dining room. Weird. The house didn’t feel right, almost like the rooms swayed and grew, moved and changed. Violet stood still for a moment, trying to gather her bearings. Why was she here? Why did she feel like she was on a mission?
“Violet,” a soft, kind voice called out to her, coming from the room adjacent to where she was. It sounded weak, broken, and it made every bone in Violet’s body hurt, because even though she couldn’t see the girl talking, she didn’t want her to be in pain.
Running across the long dining room, Violet went through another set of doors, right into a painting parlor, from the look of it. Half-painted canvases littered the walls, most of wolves. Paint smears marred the carpet, as if a child had had a tantrum in this room. It was fine with Violet, because she didn’t like the carpet anyway.
A woman was chained to the wall, her body bare. Her knees were tucked against her chest, her long white hair shrouding most of her from view. When Violet entered, she glanced up, her beautiful blue eyes wide. “Violet,” she said again.
Violet ran to her side, falling to her knees before her. She yanked on the chains, but they would not budge off the wall. “I can’t get you out, Ivy,” she said, locking gazes with the beautiful shifter.
All Ivy did was stare at her, and suddenly she knew. The key was in her pocket. How? Violet had no idea.
She dug into her shorts, finding an old-fashioned iron key, quickly working to undo the locks and free her. Ivy collapsed into Violet, throwing her dirty arms around her in a bear hug, squeezing her tightly.
“I’m so glad you came,” Ivy whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Suddenly the hug turned into something more. Her arms loosened, her hands moving flat against Violet’s back, down to where her T-shirt met her shorts, her soft fingertips grazing against her skin.
“Ivy, what…” Violet’s voice trailed off when she felt her hands move upwards, tracing her spine, making her shiver in the best of ways. This wasn’t what she was expecting, but she was more than okay with it.
One of the woman’s hands left her back, moving to cup Violet’s cheek. “Come on,” Ivy spoke, gesturing toward the front door, which was suddenly and strangely behind them. “They’re waiting.” Her thumb trailed over Violet’s mouth, and Violet was dying to know what her lips felt like on hers, but she remained quiet as Ivy got to her feet. They held hands as they left the house.
Leaning against a classic red car that was most definitely not there before, two shifters stood. Everett and Brice looked good with their similar looks—both were tall, though Brice was taller. Both were relatively clean-shaven, though stubble graced both of their jaws. Their hair was so white, their stubble looked like fuzz.
Violet grinned.
Brice held a long jacket for his naked sister to put on, and Ivy took her hand from Violet’s to shrug it on while Everett smiled down at Violet. His smile made something flip in her stomach and her heart start to beat rapidly, almost as if she liked his smile. Almost as if she wanted him to never stop doing it. Strangely, it was as if she liked him.
Did she?
Without knowing, Violet took a step closer to Everett, squinting her eyes up at him. Did she feel like this before, or was this a new feeling? It wasn’t a bad one, just one she wasn’t used to. She hadn’t felt this happy since Maria—and that was ages ago.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” Everett spoke, still smiling.
“Hopefully not too long,” she said. Violet was shocked at herself for wanting to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. That was so unlike her. She didn’t like guys much in general; she’d thought Everett and Brice were no different.
Until now.
Everett leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes. He didn’t kiss her, and she kind of wanted him to, which again shocked her to her core. She couldn’t remember the last time she wanted to kiss a guy.
Violet felt his warmth flow through her, and she found herself wondering if shifters ran hot. Ivy had felt warm too. She’d never noticed with Maia and her mates; it wasn’t like she went around throwing herself against any shifter she found—she hadn’t even known shifters existed until two years ago.
When Everett pulled away, he hopped into the passenger’s seat in the front. Ivy had already crawled into the back, which left Violet alone with Brice. Brice leaned on the open door, over a foot and a half taller than her, emotion dancing across his azure stare. She could not read the look that was on his face, did not know what went on in his head as he looked at her.
Her lower gut burned, and Violet couldn’t remember why she had the nagging suspicion she knew Brice a bit more than she should. A few years older than her, he looked mature and serious, almost like he never smiled. A shame, really, because everyone looked cuter when they smiled, when they were happy and content.
“Violet,” Brice murmured her name, and she felt a flushing heat creep up her neck.
Why the hell did she react like this? It wasn’t like…it wasn’t like she liked them, did she? She couldn’t have feelings for these shifters. They were shifters. She was human. It was a recipe for disaster, one Violet knew she should do her utmost to avoid entirely. But here she was, drowning in her own heat, wondering if her rapidly beating heart thumped like a maniac because she liked the shifter before her, and the two already in the car.
“Yes?” Violet was hesitant, unsure what Brice wanted to say. Did he want to confess something to her? She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t somewhat thrilled at the prospect.
“I think it’s time we get out of here,” he said, and just as her heart dropped, he opened the car door more. “Get in.”
Violet didn’t quite get it. “You mean…we’re going together?” She couldn’t describe how it made her feel, but it was a good feeling.
Brice gave her a look that wordlessly asked if she was crazy. “Why would you think we would leave you here?” he asked. “You’re one of us now. You’re with us until you get tired of us.” His lips, which usually were either a thin straight line or a frown, curved upward. Into a fucking smile.
A smile that blew her breath away. The entire world could’ve stopped spinning around her, and Violet would not have noticed. All she could see, all she could focus on, was his damned smile and the butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.
When she still didn’t move, Brice said again, “Get in. Unless you’d like me to throw you in?”
Violet was thankful for the offer, but she didn’t want to get thrown anywhere. She ducked under his arm, crawling into the red car beside Ivy. Ivy looked ridiculous in the oversized jacket, but at least she had her important bits covered. A bit weird to be naked around her two brothers.
Brice closed the door and went around to the driver’s seat. The car was already running, and they were on the dirt road within the next minute. Violet glanced from Ivy to Everett, finally landing on Brice’s side profile.
What the hell was Violet doing in a car with three shifter siblings? The trouble that would follow them, the shit they’d already been through—she probably couldn’t imagine it. But she also couldn’t imagine her life without them. Maybe it was weird, maybe it was stupid, but Violet felt like she’d known these three for so long, as if they were long-lost friends…
Or long-lost lovers. Or both.
Violet couldn’t say how much time passed; all she knew was that soon they drove on a blacktop road with the car’s top down. Her purple hair whipped around her, and as she did her best to keep it out of her eyes and her mouth, she glanced at Ivy, who was having the same problem—doubly so, for her white
hair was more than double Violet’s length.
Even Brice and Everett seemed like they were having fun in the front seat, smiling and laughing. It came upon her swiftly and undeniably—she felt content. Not anxious or depressed, not a single feeling that would make her dwell on her past. Violet felt happy with these shifters, all three of them.
Her last thought before the dream world caved around her was that she was home.
Violet woke in her bed with a jerk. Inside her chest, she could feel her heart pounding rapidly, as if she’d been caught in a steamier dream. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared at the ceiling, correcting herself: this wasn’t her bed. This was just Fletcher’s bed, which she had to sleep in, because she was now one of his ladies.
And she’d had sex with Brice.
Oh, fuck.
Just like that, the tingly, happy feeling Violet had about her dream—about feeling like she’d found her people, her home—faded.
She couldn’t help but wonder what today would bring. Yesterday had only been day two, and she’d been used up already. Taken and used however Fletcher wanted. That bastard had a lot coming to him.
Violet spent the next few hours investigating the room. Surely there had to be something in here to do besides stare at the wall and slowly descend into madness? There was no TV in here, which made her want to scream. This was the twenty-first century. Didn’t every room in nearly every house in America have TVs in them by now?
Oh, what she would give to watch a sitcom. Or even a newscast. Something to break up the silence and the monotony of being stuck inside a room with absolutely nothing to do. There wasn’t even a damn clock in the room, so Violet had no clue what time it was when she heard the lock on her door twisting to let someone in.
Iris stepped inside, wearing a regal, sparkling gown. All white and silver, the dress hugged her body and made her look even taller and thinner. Her brown hair was curled and pinned to the side of her head. She was drop-dead gorgeous and her appearance made all thoughts of Violet’s disappear. Except one.
Violet felt so freaking plain beside these shifters. How the hell could a human ever compare to any of them?
“I’m here to get you ready,” Iris spoke, studying her from across the room. The shifter probably still wondered why the hell Violet wore yesterday’s clothes, even after everything that happened.
“For what?” Violet had a bit more attitude than she probably should have, given the situation. Even with self-defense classes under her belt, she was helpless when it came to shifters. They were stronger than her, better than her all around. Fighting them would only make her regret her choices, and probably bring her face-to-face with that nine-tailed whip.
She shivered. The last thing she wanted was to be whipped.
Iris strode deeper in the room, tossing her a smile Violet knew was supposed to be comforting. “Today, everything changes for you, Violet.” Though a smile graced her full, luscious lips—lips that had been around Violet in a way she definitely shouldn’t be remembering right now—her gaze was cold. Not a shred of warmth lingered behind the stormy greyness of her eyes.
Something wasn’t right. Violet had a suspicion she wasn’t going to like whatever today had in store for her. Dread crept up her spine, lingering long after Iris had pulled out a pretty, strapless dress made of a sheer purple satin. She didn’t even crack a grin when Iris made the comment about the dress matching her hair.
After what happened yesterday, all Violet could wonder was: what now?
Chapter Seventeen - Brice
The next morning, when Brice got a call from Fletcher, telling him both he and Everett were expected at one, he wasn’t sure what to think. First, the shifter assumed Brice and Everett had not gone after Maia to try and right their wrong, which meant Fletcher was onto them, at least in some way. Second, it was so soon after what happened with Violet…Brice wasn’t certain he could ever be in the same room as her again.
He had a horrifying thought. What if Fletcher wanted him and Everett to come so his little brother could watch this time? Brice wasn’t sure whether he had it in him to do it again. He didn’t want to hurt his brother or Violet any more. There had to be another way to get Ivy out of there, to get Violet out of there.
Really, no female should be under Fletcher’s control, but one thing at a time. They couldn’t right all their mistakes so fast.
Because it was a mistake. Brice realized it now, though really, he’d known it all along. He and Everett never should’ve brought any female to Fletcher. They couldn’t even play the ignorance card; they’d known all along what the females were going to be used for. How many lives did they destroy? How many scars did those females have, all because of them?
Ivy would hate them for what they did, all in her name. All to get her out. To help her.
Everett was in the shower, and Brice thrummed his fingers on the edge of the counter in the tiny kitchen. They still had some time, and it wouldn’t do to be early. Fletcher appreciated punctuality, not earliness or lateness.
His stomach gurgled; he was starving, but he wasn’t sure if he could eat. Brice hadn’t eaten a single thing since he’d been with Violet, and honestly he didn’t want to. Almost as if he sought to punish himself for his actions, like he blamed himself for it all.
It was his fault.
Everything that happened was his fault.
It wasn’t even a matter of self-blame—Brice knew he was the one who made his little brother hunt and kidnap the females for Fletcher. Everett never would’ve done anything like that on his own, even for Ivy. He wasn’t that kind of wolf. He was a gentle soul. It was Brice who had forced him into this life, Brice who had waved off his concerns about Violet not being Maia. Maia was supposed to be the last one; he’d gotten anxious. Brice had just wanted it done with.
And now Fletcher had Violet, meaning it was far too late for him to feel whatever strange feelings were growing inside of him.
It was pointless, anyway. Assuming they ever got Violet and Ivy out, neither of them would want to look at him. Ivy would be disappointed in him for doing what he did, for forcing females into that life all for her sake, while Violet…Violet probably hated him. He knew he hated himself for it, for enjoying what Fletcher had made him do, for starting to feel something real for her.
Violet would never feel anything for him. No sane woman would, after the things he’d done. She was smart, Brice knew, smart enough to move on if she ever got out of there. She would never want to stay with him, with him and Everett.
Even if Brice hadn’t been forced to be with her, even if they were on good terms and she liked him, liked Everett, she was human. What were the odds she would be okay with shifter life? They were homeless now, packless. There was nothing to go back to, nowhere to take her to. Brice, Everett, and Ivy…they were all they had, and Violet surely had a family to get back to. Friends that cared about her.
Still, as ridiculous and stupid as it was, Brice felt a pang in his chest when he thought about Violet leaving them. His wolf was…even sadder? His wolf wanted her in ways he never thought he’d ever want a human.
Not like he had anything against humans; he thought the shifters who mated with humans didn’t try hard enough to find a female of their own. Females were often shared between multiple males, so it wasn’t like an already-claimed female couldn’t add to her mini-pack of mates.
Maybe that was why. Maybe this was all some big cosmic joke because Brice had thought like that. Payback for both his actions and his previous thoughts.
When Everett was done in the shower, he came out, wearing nothing but pants, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. As he came out from the hall, Brice spotted his back. Quick glimpses of it; it looked like it was mostly healed, most of the scabs had fallen off and already scarred over, though some of the scars still looked a bit puckered and fresh, the skin around them still pinkish.
“So we’re really going?” Everett asked, locking eyes with Brice.
What the he
ll could Brice say? It wasn’t like he could show up at Fletcher’s alone when the shifter had specifically asked for the both of them there. He sure as shit didn’t want his brother to go, definitely didn’t want his brother to see Violet after what happened…but again, he was powerless here. If they both didn’t go, Fletcher now had two females to lord over them.
“We don’t have a choice,” Brice muttered, staring hard at his hands on the counter. His fingers were thick and strong; he’d imagined more than once wrapping them around Fletcher’s throat, or even half-shifting and tearing out his windpipe. Of course, after yesterday, he’d spent the night imagining his hands doing other things…
Things to Violet. Touching her, holding her. Brice couldn’t stop remembering wrapping his hands around her neck and holding her down, even though she didn’t struggle, how he’d held onto her hips as he pounded into her from behind while Iris went at her from below.
Damn it. He was getting hard thinking about it. Definitely not something he should be thinking about so much, because it could never happen again.
Good thing a counter separated him from his little brother. The last thing Everett needed to see was Brice’s hard-on for the human he wanted as his mate.
The most ridiculous part of this was that Brice wanted her too. His wolf wanted her as his mate, something he never thought possible. Odds were, both he and Everett would be disappointed, assuming they ever got her out. After what they did to her, Violet would have no reason to stay with them.
Everett broke into his thoughts with conviction in his voice, “I’m starting to realize there’s always a choice. Some choices are just harder than others.” His green gaze flicked to the clock on the microwave behind Brice. “When do we have to leave?”
Brice didn’t look at the time. “Soon,” he muttered.
“Let me finish getting dressed.” Everett spun, walking down the hall to the bedroom, tossing the towel into the bathroom as he passed it, right on the floor.
Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 11
