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Everyone has a moment—right before disaster strikes—when the world still feels intact. That perfect second where the floor is steady beneath your feet, and the storm has not swallowed the sky yet.

Then, the ground shifts and the fall begins. And while some falls are silent, others echo like a war cry.

Violet had always known she was walking a precarious line here, balanced between defiance and destruction. She had played the game, danced at the eye of the storm, believing she could command the chaos instead of becoming consumed by it.

But the thing about storms is that they don’t ask for permission before they strike. Neither do the walls stop the world from watching when they finally collapse. And they did fall.

The wolves smelled blood. The everwatchful vultures of Lunaris had waited for a single crack in her armor, a moment of weakness—anything to rip her apart. And here it was, gift-wrapped and displayed for all to see.

One video.

One reckless moment, twisted into the proof of the one thing she’d fought so hard never to be: the daughter of a whore.

Like mother, like daughter.

The words had not yet been uttered, but she could already hear them being whispered in the hallways, sensed them winding their way into the next scandalous Moon Feed article, felt them shaping on sneering lips as they watched Violet Purple’s downfall.

Checkmate.

"Violet..." She heard Lila mention her name, and when her gaze slid up to hers, there was concern and pity there. Her protector looked at her as if she was the sparrow whose nest had been raided at dawn.

Somebody had captured Violet’s heavy petting with Alaric and Griffin at the bonfire in Silver Glade. Except this was no ordinary scandal, no simple humiliation, but her worst nightmare brought to life. And she knew exactly who would revel in making her suffer so that his own queen could blossom.

Roman.

Rage flared inside her like an inferno, and Violet whirled toward him, her eyes blazing. "You did this, didn’t you?!"

Roman’s expression darkened, his posture rigid."This is not my doing!" he barked back.

Violet didn’t flinch. Instead, she studied him. While the rest of the class looked shocked or horrified at the content of the video, Roman seemed merely caught off guard, as though he hadn’t expected it to be released.

Her stomach churned. "But you knew about it, didn’t you?" she snarled.

Roman’s jaw clenched. "It was a bonfire party, and the three of you—" He slanted a look at Griffin, "—weren’t exactly discreet. Anyone could have seen you."

The truth hit Violet hard. She hadn’t been careful, not that night. One moment, she’d been trying to apologize to Griffin, and the next, everything had spiraled out of control.

And now, thanks to that slip, the entire school had a front-row seat to her moans and to Alaric and Griffin’s hands on her body. Even with the darkness of the night, there was no mistaking her hair, her voice, nor that of the two Alphas tangled with her.

Her blood turned cold. If the video was from Friday night, why had it been exposed now? Why not immediately? Clearly, this was intentional.

Violet hastily pulled out her phone, tracing the source of the video. It wasn’t just a random leak but had been posted through a blog, one owned by Nicole. And there it was an article titled, "The Truth About the Purple Whore" glaring back at her, bold as day.

It dawned on her at once who did this.

"Elsie." Violet sneered, bitterness clawing at her. She spun around to storm off in search of that backstabbing witch, only for Roman to grab her arm.

"Violet, don’t —!"

"No. Don’t touch me!" Violet shoved him off, her eyes sparking with fury.

She got in his face, snarling. "You were the one who requested this ceasefire so I’d let my guard down, and then you both set out to ruin my life!"

Roman shook his head, frantic. "I swear I had no idea it was recorded. I only wanted you and Elsie to cohabitate peacefully."

Violet’s voice turned cold. "Well, now you see there’ll be no peace." She stated it like a final verdict.

"Violet..." Griffin spoke up this time. Her glance shifted toward him, and he met her eyes with a pleading gaze. But Violet wasn’t in any mood for gentle persuasion. Elsie had started this; she would end it.

Without another word, Violet stalked off, ignoring the calls not just from Griffin and Roman, but her concerned roommates too. Right now, the shield she wove around herself was being scattered like windblown petals and she needed to regain it in a way or another.

When animals were backed into a corner, they had two choices: Flight or fight. Violet chose fight. It was the only way she knew.

The scene, unfolding right in the middle of class, had caught enough onlookers to fill the entire room. Yet when she moved, the students parted for her like the Red Sea parted for Moses. And, of course, they followed, eager to see what she would do next.

Violet wasn’t certain where Elsie might be, but she couldn’t waste a single second calming down. Anger roiled in her veins like a storm and she wanted the bitch to feel it while it blew hot.

She knew how Elsie’s mind worked. The queen bee loved to flaunt her authority after a move like this. And Violet would find her. Or find those who would find her.

Then she felt this tingling in the air and that was precisely when Alaric Storm decided to appear, looking as handsome and severe as ever, a faint tension shadowing his features.

But Violet brushed past him. She had no patience for pretty storms right now. But he caught her arm, spinning her around.

"Not now," she hissed, attempting to pry loose from his grip.

But Alaric’s next words froze her.

"Let’s break up."

"What?"