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Morning had come, but Asher made no effort to stand or sneak Violet back to the Rogue House. It was too late for that anyway. So he might as well shamelessly enjoy whatever precious sliver of time they had left together.

He should have told Violet about her mother already, but the timing wasn’t right. He knew she’d be furious—he had looked into her background without permission—and he didn’t want to ruin this. This moment. It was too perfect. Just him and his purple queen.

She didn’t loathe him. Didn’t think him a monster for what he’d done. She had been willing to offer him her virginity last night, and that alone made his chest swell with a pride so fierce, it nearly bordered on arrogance. He would rub it in their faces. Those cardinal brothers of his.

Perhaps when he finally took her, he’d send them the blood-stained sheets. A memento. Proof that he had claimed her first. Seen her first. Chosen her first.

It was only fair.

Hmmm. It didn’t sound like such a bad idea, actually. The look on their faces would be worth it. He would think about it.

Violet was lying on one side of his body, deep asleep, her breast squashed against his chest. Asher stared at her, noticing small details he wouldn’t have otherwise unless she was this close—like the beautiful mole on her back near the dip of her waist.

No matter how many times he pinched himself, the scene still felt like a dream to him. So Asher carefully reached for the nightstand and grabbed his phone. He stretched out and took a picture of them together.

The picture came out beautifully. Violet looked cute and innocent, asleep with her lips slightly parted, a little drool at the corner, and those purple strands of hair sprawled across her shoulder, some falling onto his chest.

Without hesitation, Asher set the picture as his wallpaper.

He wasn’t scared that anyone would see it.

Not that anyone in their right mind went through his phone, unless they had a death wish.

Well, aside from Roman. The one had a special talent for challenging him, and getting under his skin.

Not to mention, Asher fully intended to show it off.

He would imprint this moment in his mind forever.

Each time he lay in bed unable to sleep, he would simply look at the picture and drift into dreams where it was just him and his purple queen.

And every time he was trapped in one of those terrors, he would imagine his fearless little tigress swooping in and saving his ass.

A woman saving his ass? Henry would definitely have an aneurysm if he could hear his thoughts right now.

The mere idea of his father soured his mood, and Asher tightened his grasp around Violet.

Henry would never like Violet. She was the type of woman he loathed—loud, outspoken, brash, and strong. He liked his women submissive, controllable. Violet was anything but those.

That alone was enough reason for Henry to want her away from him—his perfect heir. But Asher was determined. He would protect his queen. He might have let Henry win in the past, but not anymore. Not when he finally had something to lose.

It was seven on the dot, and Violet needed to wake. Not because he wanted her gone—God, no. He could spend forever with her—but because she needed to eat, and it was only a matter of time before the others came looking for him.

Parents week would officially start tomorrow, which meant his day was packed. Not just him. All of the cardinal alphas. The success of the event were on them and they had a lot of things to plan.

So he murmured softly into her ear, "Wake up, little purple."

But nothing. Violet didn’t move an inch. She was passed out like a dead log.

So he tried again, this time shaking her gently. "It’s time to wake up, Violet. The day has broken."

The movement, however, was more of a nuisance to Violet, who only pushed Asher away with one hand and turned over, slipping right back into sleep.

Asher Nightshade was left dumbfounded, only for a small, disbelieving smile to tug at his lips. It seemed someone loved her sleep, just like a certain cardinal alpha. Alaric Storm hardly slept, but once he did, waking him up was damn near impossible.

But Asher wasn’t deterred. If anything, the challenge thrilled him. Violet was now sleeping on her back, which meant her chest was on full display, and he could shamelessly ogle her breasts in all their tantalizing glory.

Asher reached for her nipple, rolling it between his fingers until it peaked into a hard, sensitive point, eliciting the smallest whimper from her lips. But that was all. Her eyes were still closed.

Well, not for long.

With unholy intentions, Asher leaned over and took not just her nipple, but her entire areola into his mouth, sucking fervently while his hand massaged her other breast.

Violet’s eyes flew open at once, a moan already escaping her mouth. Her hand tangled into Asher’s thick, silky hair, having no idea whether to push him away or pull him closer.

"What a way to wake a girl," she gasped.

Asher laughed, the vibration sending sparks straight through her nipple and shooting heat to her core. Violet moaned again, eyes fluttering shut as she melted into the sensation.

Asher relentlessly suckled, licked, bit, fondled, and massaged each breast until Violet was burning with need, her panties thoroughly soaked. Only then did he finally give her reprieve.

The West House Alpha leaned up and kissed her before she could stop him—Violet briefly panicked, realizing she hadn’t brushed. But Asher didn’t care. He caressed and stroked her tongue with his own like she was his first taste of heaven.

"Good morning, love," Asher murmured against her lips with a smile.

"Good morning," Violet smiled back sleepily.

Except... that smile froze.

Wait.

It was morning?

It was FUCKING morning?!

Asher must’ve seen the panic on her face because he chuckled smugly. "Tried to wake you. Not my fault."

"ASHER!!!!!!"