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There was nothing natural about this. Violet was certain Asher Nightshade was messing with her mind. But how? She hadn’t looked directly into his eyes... or had she? Her mind swirled with too many questions, but she knew that finding answers had to start with getting back to reality.

She recalled a book she’d once read about dream manipulation, where the only way to break free was to put oneself in a life-threatening situation. The four-story drop outside should do.

Outside, the sky was still dark with the first hints of dawn barely touching the horizon. And from her viewpoint, the ground below looked like a yawning abyss.

For a fleeting moment, doubt crossed her mind. What if she jumped and it led to her death? Well, if that was the case, at least it would end this nightmare. Better that than another second with this psychopath.

And so, she jumped.

The descent felt endless, a chilling rush of air whipping past her. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for impact, but when she opened them, she was standing right back in Asher’s room, unharmed.

Oh no. No, no, no. Frustration burned through her. What was going on here? Why was this happening to her? She hadn’t even done anything to draw his attention.

Her gaze turned icy as she stared at Asher, hatred simmering through every vein. This was all because of him. Driven by sheer rage, she started toward him, fully intending to make him regret every second of this torment.

Yet, as she approached, Asher’s expression remained lazily indifferent, like she was simply there for his amusement. She could see the mocking glint in his eye, as if he believed she was powerless against him.

Well, she’d prove him wrong. Others in the academy might worship him, might submit to his whims, but she’d sooner die than let him go unchallenged.

Violet didn’t mind that she might look ridiculous to him, approaching him in nothing but pants and a bra. If only Violet knew that Asher thought otherwise, and right now, she looked like his very brand of wild temptation, fierce, untamed, and absolutely captivating.

Violet was not a violent person, but she was capable of violence, especially when it was provoked by assholes like him.

She borrowed Griffin’s move from earlier, wrapping her hand around Asher’s neck and snarling, "What in the mother-fucking world have you done to me?!"

Her breaths came hard, fueled by anger and frustration. Everything had happened so quickly, shattering everything she thought was real, leaving her mind frayed.

It didn’t help that he grinned at her. He actually grinned at her?! A smug, infuriating smirk that made her blood boil. She tightened her grip, determined to make him feel that she wasn’t bluffing and that she meant every bit of business.

That was when something strange happened. The scene flickered, like a hazy dream shifting focus, and when Violet blinked, she found herself in a new position.

She was straddling Asher on the bed.

The blood drained from her face as realization struck. This was Asher’s world; he was the puppet master, pulling the strings, including hers.

Instinctively, Violet tried to move away, but he said, "Calm down."

Instantly, she felt the command wash over her, her body relaxing against her will.

Oh no. Violet wanted to panic, to fight out of this position, but it was as though the fight had been siphoned out of her, and insidious, coaxing whispers in her mind suggested she let go, to trust him.

Her body responded, moving in sync with the pull of his control.

Asher adjusted, sitting up with her in his arms as though they were lovers, and not two people who’d just been sparring for control.

A deep flush crept up her cheeks as she realized she was positioned directly over his arousal.

And oh, he was hard beneath her. Very hard.

And huge — she tried not to take note of that.

Violet gulped, mentally railing against the situation. In her mind, she was disgusted by this manipulative psychopath, but her body betrayed her, drawn to his intense allure. She clung desperately to the scraps of control she still held.

It wasn’t hard to guess Asher’s intentions, not with that dark, consuming look in his eyes, like he intended to devour her whole, leaving not even her bones behind.

And with the Academy’s reputation for power plays, she expected him to force himself on her.

At least that would give her a solid reason to despise him and fuel her thirst for revenge.

But instead of pushing her down, Asher cupped her cheeks. The unexpected gentleness of his touch stunned her, and she looked up in confusion. Was this some twisted attempt to romanticize the idea of taking her against her will?

Yet as she looked into those strange, haunting eyes, she saw something that made her uneasy—not in a terrifying way, but unsettlingly gentle.

Asher Nightshade was staring at her with an almost overwhelming tenderness, as though she were everything to him. Which didn’t make any sense. They’d met only once today, and this was the longest they’d ever interacted and here he was, looking at her with a longing so raw it shook her.

Violet’s emotions tangled, a storm of confusion raging inside her. She didn’t know what to think, not with him looking at her like he’d been waiting for her. And his hand, slowly caressing her cheek, was breaking down her carefully built walls, corroding every barrier she’d put up around herself.

For a split second, she almost let herself fall for it. But then, she remembered she was dealing with a psychopath.

Ivy had told her Asher was a master manipulator, a "mind fucker." If he thought she’d just surrender to his delusions, he was sorely mistaken. She’d never let herself get tangled with a cardinal alpha, especially not him.

Just as she was about to throw some sass and shatter whatever spell he was trying to weave, Asher spoke, his voice soft with a strange endearment and reverence.

"You’re finally here, my purple queen."

"What?" Violet croaked, taken aback.

Confusion washed over her as Asher spoke as if he had known her before this moment. But she was certain they had never met; a face like his was not easily forgotten. She would have remembered.

Asher’s gaze drifted over her body, unabashedly taking her in. It should have disgusted her, but for the first time, the appreciation in his eyes sent heat spiraling to her core.

Damn it, Violet cursed. She couldn’t let herself be caught up in whatever twisted game he was playing.

He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger, pure fascination shining in his eyes as he confessed, "For a while, I thought you weren’t going to show up.

I was considering how to come get you. You have no idea how much effort I’ve put into finding you, little purple. "

Violet was stunned with the way he gave her nicknames she hadn’t asked for, stirring something inside her. But it was the gnawing curiosity that overwhelmed her. His hand trailed down her back, and she fought against the shiver .

Asher was too touchy, and it infuriated her, especially knowing he was trying to lower her defenses. It was maddening how effortlessly he seemed to seduce her, as if he knew exactly every nerve to touch, every string to pull to get under her skin.

"Do I know you?" she finally asked, managing to find her voice.

"You called, and I answered."

"What?" His riddles left her more confused than ever.

This time, his eyes locked onto hers, dark and unwavering, as he quoted her words back to her, "Special skills: Sucking a dick. Giving a mean lap dance. Wait till you see me in bed."

Ice coursed through Violet’s veins as the blood drained from her face. No, it can’t be.

Even as he saw her startled reaction, Asher grinned like a wolf who had cornered its prey, ready to pounce. "We are in bed right now, my purple queen. So when does the fun begin?"