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Violet sat alone in the library, her table stacked with books, though none of them held her attention. Her gaze was fixed on her phone screen, her cheeks flushed as she stared at an "interesting" photo of Alaric.

It was a candid shot taken during the aftermath of the game, showing him buck naked, his body completely exposed. The image had gone viral, and Violet had stumbled upon it by sheer chance.

It unfortunately came with the territory.

Shifting into their werewolf forms shredded clothing as easily as paper, leaving them as bare as the day they were born.

It wasn’t something Violet could change or even object to.

Even though it bothered her that others were ogling what she considered hers, Violet had no choice but to accept that this was Alaric’s world.

But even with that understanding, her lingered on the image longer than she should have. Violet’s eyes tracked the pale glow of his skin, the ripple of lean muscle along his torso, and the hard lines of his abdomen, training lower until —

"Someone’s thirsty."

Violet yelped, her phone slipping from her fingers as she stumbled backward and fell from her seat. Her heart thundered in her chest as she looked up to see Roman standing there, his green hair damp and messy, his grin stretching wide with mirth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Violet snapped, scrambling to her feet and shoving him hard in the chest. He didn’t even budge, which only infuriated her more.

Roman chuckled, "I should be the one asking why you’re so worked up. I’m not the one caught drooling over her boyfriend’s—"

"Shut up!" Violet cut him off, shoving him again, though the act only seemed to amuse him.

Roman caught her hands with ease, holding them firmly in his grasp. "Careful, honey. You don’t want the librarian throwing you out for making a scene."

Violet hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at him with annoyance. She had come here to run away from the overwhelming attention her newfound fame brought, as well as escaping Alaric. Not even Lila knew where she was, knowing she’d run her mouth if Alaric asked about her.

Once Alaric was done showering in the locker room, he would come find her. Now, Roman had found her first, and she wasn’t sure which was worse: facing Alaric or dealing with this infuriating green-haired Alpha.

"Let me go now," she demanded.

"As the lady wishes." Roman released her hands instantly, raising his palms in mock surrender.

Violet huffed and turned back to her seat, intent on ignoring him. But Roman wasn’t done. Like an infuriating mosquito that refused to go until it was swatted away — or killed — Roman leaned in close from the side, his voice low and suggestive. "You could stare at mine, you know. It’s bigger."

Her head snapped toward him, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. Violet opened her mouth to rebuke him, but the words died on her lips when she realized just how close they were. Their faces were inches apart, and her anger vanished, replaced by something else entirely.

Roman’s eyes were sparkling emeralds with specks of gold around it.

Her gaze then drifted over the splash of freckles scattered across his nose, the slight dip in his cheeks where dimples would form when he smiled.

His lips—full, soft, and maddeningly inviting—were enough to make her swallow nervously.

She didn’t even realize she was gaping at him until a single droplet of water from his damp hair fell onto her cheek. The cold sensation snapped her back to reality.

Violet jerked away from him, turning back to the table with a speed that nearly toppled her chair, again. Her cheeks burned with mortification, horror and frustration that made her stomach knot.

But even as she turned, Roman’s scent followed her. It was a heady blend of ripe pineapple and rich whipped cream, exotic and indulgent. But beneath the sweetness

was an underlying edge of dark patchouli that teased her senses with both allure and warning.

Violet frowned. Since when did she begin to scent people like a hound? But most of all, why did Roman of all people smell so good? It was disturbing.

Roman laughed behind her, his voice warm and teasing as he picked up the books she had selected and read the titles aloud. "Full Mythology of the Old World, ABC Werewolf, All You Need to Know About Werewolves. Doing some light reading, are we?"

Violet snatched the books from him with a scathing glare. "What do you want? I don’t recall inviting you to bother me."

If this asshole thought he could walk in here and play games with her, then he was in for a loss. She didn’t need his company.

"I’m bored," Roman said simply, dropping into the seat across from her with a dramatic sigh.

"Oh. So you’ve finally run out of pu*sies to fuck?" Violet said with disdain, making it obvious how much she loathed him.

Roman smirked, clearly unfazed. "Not quite, but a man shall not live by juices alone."

Violet’s cheeks turned red at the sexual innuendo, embarrassment and anger warring within her. "You’re disgusting, you know? And if you think you can seduce me, you’re wasting your time."

"Who said anything about seduction?" Roman’s voice turned sly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You’re the one who seduced me first."

Violet blinked, utterly confused. "What are you talking about?"

Roman reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing against hers before curling around her hand. Violet tried to pull away, but his grip was firm and he wouldn’t let go. So when Violet stopped struggling, his thumb began to trace lazy circles over her palm.

"Have you forgotten, lady purple? That little sin we committed in the classroom the other day?"

Violet’s stomach dropped as the memory came rushing back.

Fuck.

Roman’s smile widened as he saw recognition flash in her eyes. "We never got to talk about it. But here I am, finally. Waiting for you to take responsibility."

Violet stared at him, speechless. You have got to be kidding her