Page 167

There was no rule that banned students from returning to the start of the race to get help. If there was, no one had mentioned it, and Violet would plead ignorance if it were judged.

At first, Violet walked briskly, then, as the urgency of the dwindling time pressed down on her, her pace quickened into a jog, then a full sprint.

Rain pelted her face, her damp clothes clinging to her skin, and the slippery path was treacherous, but Violet didn’t stop.

The werewolves noticed her approach immediately. Their keen gazes followed her, curiosity twinkling in their eyes like embers waiting to ignite.

Asher’s brows lifted in mild surprise while Griffin and Roman pinned her with their gazes, trying to guess her intention.

Alaric, who had been leaning against a branch, looking utterly bored, stiffened when he saw her coming. He straightened, his expression tightening with concern.

Violet didn’t realize how furious she must have looked striding toward Asher until one of the wolves muttered under his breath, "She’s going to punch him."

Alaric must have thought the same because he moved into her path, his jaw tight and his face painted with guilt. "Violet—"

But Violet didn’t stop. She didn’t even acknowledge him. She walked straight past him, as if he were nothing but a shadow in her periphery.

There was only one person who had what she needed, and she was going to take it from him.

Asher.

The slitted gray-eyed Alpha oozed nothing but arrogance as she closed the distance between them.

"Calm down, my little Violent queen," he taunted her, his voice a rich, velvety drawl. "I don’t think hitting me would help your situation right now."

Violet stopped right in front of Asher and regarded him thoroughly. Look at him, all smug and confident, thinking he had her all figured out.

Perhaps, he expected a slap, maybe a well-placed knee to his gut. Except Violet never had violence in mind from the start.

Before Asher could get another word out, Violet surged forward, gripping his hair and yanking his face down to hers. And then she kissed him. Hard.

For the first time that night, silence fell over the wolves.

Not just them. Asher himself froze, his cocky smirk vanishing into pure, stunned stillness. But it only lasted a fraction of a second before Asher recovered quickly, his instincts sharper than his shock.

A low, approving growl rumbled deep in his chest as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him.

Alaric, just as the others were frozen for a second, right before a snarl escaped his throat. How dare he!

Lightning snapped at his fingertips as his fury radiated in visible sparks of electricity. He lunged only for Griffin to seize his wrist, bracing himself as the crackling current jolted through his body. Yet he gritted his teeth, shaking his head at Alaric. This was not the time.

Alaric gave in hesitantly, but the glare he shot Asher was pure murder.

Violet might have started this, but Asher was the one in control now.

His lips moved against hers with slow agonizing confidence, teasing, claiming, and conquering.

He sucked her bottom lip, then nipped at it, his sharp canines scraping lightly against the sensitive skin.

It took every ounce of Violet’s self-control not to melt into him, and moan at the sheer intensity of it.

Asher’s grip tightened, his fingers splaying across her lower back as his tongue traced along the seam of her lips, coaxing them to open wider. When she refused, he nipped her bottom lip until he drew blood and that was enough to get her to open up.

His tongue slid against hers with searching hunger. He stroked and sucked until heat bloomed in her chest, spreading like wildfire down her spine, and pooling low in her stomach.

Fuck. She had to end this. Now.

With a sharp inhale, Violet broke the kiss, staggering back, breathless. But she did not leave empty-handed.

In her grip was a small sheathed knife, one she had slipped from Asher’s pocket while her lips had been distracting him.

Asher’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what she had done.

He thought he knew her inside and out, but what the puppet master failed to realize was that Violet knew him just as well. Those traps had Asher’s signature all over them. And she’d bet anything they were a last-minute addition, which was why both Alaric and Griffin had been caught off guard.

If Alaric had known about the traps, he would have warned her, and maybe even slipped her a weapon to even the odds. But Asher had anticipated that. He had deliberately kept lover boy in the dark, ensuring that Violet walked into the game unarmed and vulnerable.

Thanks to that, Violet was able to guess Asher would have a weapon on him.

His claws could cut through rope, but there was no guarantee the snare or net traps would catch her.

So he’d keep a knife handy, just in case.

After all, no one would enjoy the thrill of freeing and recapturing her more than Asher.

Violet smirked, lifting the blade between them like a trophy. "Thanks for this," she taunted, rubbing her victory in his face.

Asher let out a slow, husky chuckle, "Nicely executed, my little queen. It’s quite a loss, but I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed that." His tongue flicked out to swipe the taste of her from his lips.

Heat flooded Violet’s body, unbidden and unwelcome. At the same time, above them, the sky cracked open with a deafening thunderclap. Alaric was losing his patience.

But Asher ignored him, his whole focus on Violet, and right now, his eyes gleamed with an emotion so dark and insatiable.

"However," Asher murmured, voice thick with promise, "your time is ticking fast, little queen. It would do you well to run fast and smart because I’m coming for you. And when I do—" he flashed his sharp canines. "We’re going to finish what you started."

A shiver danced down Violet’s spine.

She didn’t need to be told twice. She turned on her heel, sparing only a brief, heavy glance at Alaric before she bolted back into the forest. They would talk about this later, but for now, she had to get to her friends before the hunt truly began.

Behind her, Asher flexed his shoulders, rolling out the tension in his body. His wolf was already prowling at the edges of his mind, restless, eager. Ready.

But it was not yet time. But soon.

The thrill of the chase was a dance as old as time. And this time, the only prey he wanted was Violet Purple.

He had already given instructions. If any of his pack should capture Violet Purple, they would not drag her through that finish line. No, that honor would be his. He would claim her right in front of her.

She could run, fight, and resist all she wanted, but in the end, she will be his.

But Asher’s thoughts were interrupted as Alaric’s fist collided with his face. "I told you not to lay a hand on her!"

Asher staggered back, blood dripping from his lip, before he let out a low, dark laugh. He straightened, wiping the crimson away with the back of his hand.

"She was the one who kissed me first, moron, in case your eyes are blind."

Alaric was consumed with jealousy and anger, his snarl pure fury as his body practically vibrated with the urge to shift and attack.

Asher’s wolves responded instantly, their growls filling the night air, muscles tensed and ready to defend their Alpha.

The North Pack wolves did the same for Alaric, crouching low, their snarls rumbling through the forest.

Tension coiled like a wire about to snap, the air thick with the promise of a fight.

"That’s enough!" Griffin shoved himself between them before things could spiral into bloodshed. His eyes burned with frustration. "We’re here to hunt the humans, not each other."

The stand-off remained for a beat longer, both sides bristling, waiting for the first move. A sight Roman observed with furrowed brows.

Just as he thought, Violet Purple was more dangerous than he had anticipated.

And that only solidified his plans for tonight.