Home > Gypsy Origins (All The Pretty Monsters #3)(45)

Gypsy Origins (All The Pretty Monsters #3)(45)
Author: Kristy Cunning

“Help me help him, Damien.”

“And you’ll reward me?” he muses.

“It’s easier to slit my throat when I don’t see it coming. It’s hard to keep things completely shut off when I expect pain or strength. It’s why a flower pot can crack my skull, but you out of control doesn’t so much as leave a bruise,” I tell him quietly, keeping this serious. “Turning the switch on is something that can be done on accident. Keeping the switch completely off is harder to do. It’s more like a dimmer setting. My pain tolerance is high, so it won’t even really hurt, so long as I faint.”

His lips purse.

“I’m not sure I gather any of that. But anyway, back to my reward; it’ll need to be huge. I’m not fond of slitting your pretty throat, Violet. Certainly not for the sake of Vance.”

“Obviously you want something, so just say it.”

He’s on the bed beside me in the next instant, his lips gently brushing mine. “A full day with you. Sun up to sun up—you in my bed and in my full possession.”

A chill snakes up my spine when he levels me with the most intense stare I’ve ever seen.

“What?” I ask, though my breath comes out a little shaky.

“My rules. My touch only on that day. You can’t even leave unless you ask for my permission, because your body will be in my possession and belong to me for a full twenty-four hours,” he elaborates in great detail.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need more incentive than just slitting my throat then. I’m not sure what being in your full possession means, and Shera will probably slit my throat for free, so long as I never tell Arion.”

I arch an eyebrow at him, and his lips twitch.

“Shera knows about you?”

I’m almost worried that’s a dangerous confession.

“Shera’s a lot smarter than you all seem to think, and she’s piecing things together really quickly. She’s not going to go around telling anyone, though.”

“Of course not,” he says like he knows that already. “However, don’t tell her. I’m not comfortable with her having too much information about you. It’s best to play this wise.”

“The omegas pretend to be oblivious, but Lemon has dropped a knife around me twice and cut me on purpose. I think they’ve been testing theories of their own. It’s actually been easier to keep a secret from all of you than it has been to keep one from them,” I decide to tell him, since I’m worse at being discreet than I thought.

“Don’t read into all their actions. Omegas are often clumsy, and sometimes a little petty and passive-aggressive. Are you keeping up their lavish lifestyles?” he quips, not even realizing how they all talk down to them, Emit included.

“Omegas actually see and hear more than betas do,” I point out very carefully, since none of them really seem to notice that.

His brow furrows.

“Betas usually get kicked out of the room because they’re noticed. Omegas get forgotten about and simply overlooked. They hear and see more because no one thinks to kick them out of the room. I do, but I’m not some ancient alpha who forgets the world is changing around them while they stand still.”

When his lips start to thin like he’s annoyed with me, I press on.

“You’ve twice pulled the alpha thing on me, keeping the secrets you want to keep from me. About Fay’s death, for one. And then to assert your authority like you have some over me.”

His jaw grinds a little as he slips over on the bed, invading my space a bit more, but not in a way that makes me feel intimidated. He’s simply intent on listening for a change.

“You think me meek, timid, and weak, and sure…I am. It doesn’t mean I’m not still paying attention, Damien. Simpleton omega fool or not, I’m still getting the fucking gist, and I feel like I’m taking it exceptionally well. Stop dictating what I do or don’t get to know, because I’ve proven myself by now. And stop underestimating and overlooking the omegas, when the purebloods, who almost killed you, were exactly that. Look around. Things are still spinning.”

He looks away and fidgets with the ring on his left hand’s middle finger. There’s a crest on it that I’ve seen on his actual house.

“I concede that I’m sometimes short-sighted,” he says a little tightly. “However, you empathized with the wolves who were after Emit.”

“This is something that should have apparently been caught before it was in the hundreds, I would think,” I say with a shrug of my shoulder. “I see both points of view. I need more information before picking a side.”

“Picking a side?” he asks with a groan, and then he slowly shakes his head. “Violet, you fail to realize our role. We have to be firm and ruthless sometimes—fair or not. I understand the confusion. We were just as naïve in the beginning. Being alpha is not our reward—it’s our punishment: To forever be the monsters we were on one fucking night, because we created more monsters. I’m punished for one sin I never even committed, just as all of Arion’s family are punished with a thirst for blood. Vance is punished for being so shallow as to truly believe a piece of silver was what was most important to his entire family and himself. You don’t get to judge.”

It’s possibly the first time I’ve seen him actually angry with me. And he looks hurt.

I really don’t like feeling like I’ve hurt him.

“I’m sorry for sounding judgmental. The point of what I was saying is that I’m not judging anything yet. I’m just trying to collect more information and see both sides of things before I have any opinion at all, because even I know those wolves seemed desperate, and that was all unnatural.”

He huffs like he’s frustrated, but can’t seem to find something to say back.

“Even if I wasn’t a monster alpha who better understands the big picture more than your young mind can imagine, I still had to defend myself. We all did,” he finally tells me.

“I know,” I assure him.

He gives me an annoyed look.

“What will it take for me to have a full day with you?” he asks seriously, as if he’s tired of this argument and ready to move on.

“Ask me out on a date instead of trying to extort me, dick. Contrary to popular belief, I happen to like sex, but the four of you make it unnecessarily complicated.”

He struggles to keep a straight face, looking both caught off-guard and surprisingly amused.

“And quit stalling with slitting my throat to somehow better your agenda. It doesn’t score you any points at all. You lose some for every minute that ticks by and leaves him to suffer worse than he has to,” I add.

“Ice packs could work just as well,” he drawls.

“There’s a reason body heat warms better than anything else. I’m not actually sure what it is, but the same would seem true in reverse,” I counter.

He opens and closes his mouth before finally rolling his eyes.

When he doesn’t move to cooperate, I add, “You like to talk about Arion so much, point your fingers at him because he’s worse than you. But the truth is, you’re actually a lot alike. Your ultimate agendas just differ, and there’s a different body count you’re willing to leave in your wake. We’re all monsters. I’m just the kind who doesn’t want to make all the wrong mistakes. I’m still trying to get the gist of what is all going on right now.”

His gaze dips to my lips, as he brushes my hair out of my face.

“We haven’t actually talked about what it means for you to be a monster,” he murmurs, those sweet tingles inappropriately washing over my body.

“We’ll talk after you slit my throat,” I deadpan.

This time, he does grin, because he’s a little twisted like that. Sort of like me.

“Tell them I did this, and I’ll be punished,” he whispers across my lips. “Tread carefully with your power,” he adds next to my ear as a sense of pleasure burns through my neck.

I almost don’t remember to faint, because I forgot how good he can make pain feel.

Chapter 19

VANCE

The first thing I realize is that I’m not on fire. The second thing I realize is that there are a lot of Portocale oranges in the room, because it’s almost all I can smell, though the hint of Portocale blood lingers close.

The next thing I notice is the sound of Damien crying out, and someone tensing beside me, as a feminine sob gets muffled close by.

The ache in my chest proves it must be Violet, because only she hurts like this for someone else.

Damien cries out again in agony, the tortured sound echoing through the room, and a harder sob rocks the body next to mine.

I can’t move. I feel frozen. Not even my eyelids will open.

I hate this fucking part.

Why is Damien already under, and why is he here—

“Easy, love,” I hear Arion saying from somewhere close as the bed dips.

That son of a bitch really better not be in my room or near my bed.

“It’s moving along quickly for both of them,” he’s telling her.

“I’ll kick his ass for falling asleep with her in the room,” Emit is saying.

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