Page 336

"Aah!" Asher's scream tore through the house, and Violet flinched like it had been her own pain. She couldn't take it anymore.

From the moment Adele arrived, Griffin had instructed Roman to take her out of the room, and the idiot had done exactly that without even blinking. Did they think she couldn't handle seeing Asher in pain? This was Asher they were talking about. Her precious Asher.

"I'm going back in," she said, stepping forward, only for Roman to block her path.

"I'm sorry, Violet. But you can't," Roman told her gently, arms outstretched. "Trust me, you're better off out here than inside."

"Asher needs me! I should be in there holding his hand or, doing something," Violet argued, her voice rising in frustration.

"In the state he's in, if you tried holding his hand, he'd probably crush it," Roman said. "Griffin's stronger and can hold him down if needed. They've got him."

His tone was so calm and so sure, that Violet couldn't find it in her to fight it. She let out a long breath and leaned back against the wall, her heart heavy.

According to Adele, Asher's bones had shattered and begun healing on their own, but in the wrong alignment. If left alone, it would cost him strength, maybe even full use of his arm. The only option was to rebreak the bones, set them correctly, and heal them properly.

Violet didn't want to imagine what that kind of pain felt like.

Then again, maybe she could. Her own hand still throbbed. She had been trying to ignore it, hiding it behind her back when she could, but when she shifted her fingers and winced, Roman noticed.

He reached out suddenly, catching her injured hand with a frown.

"How long were you planning to hide this?" he asked, his voice low.

"It's nothing," Violet said quickly. "Just a little sore."

"Sore?" Roman's brows knit in a scowl. "Violet, your knuckles are swelling. That's not soreness. That's probably a fracture."

She tried to shrug it off, waving with her other hand. "It's really not a big deal. Can we just focus on Asher right now?"

And that was it! Roman's patience snapped.

"Focus on Asher? You mean the same Asher who's in there getting treated, while you're out here with a busted hand pretending it's fine? Do you think he's going to be grateful when he finds out you were hurting and didn't say anything? You think he'll applaud your self-sacrifice?"

Roman's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and furious. Violet stared at him, stunned.

Then her shoulders sagged. "You're right. I was being reckless. I'm sorry."

Roman looked up at the ceiling, breathing deep like he was trying to cool down. After a moment, he stepped forward and pulled her into a light hug, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm sorry for yelling," he murmured.

"No. I needed it." Violet closed her eyes for a second. She let herself sink into the moment, inhaling his soothing scent.

Roman pulled back slightly. "Come on. Let's get that hand looked at."

But Violet hesitated, casting one last look toward the door.

"Don't worry, Griffin will alert us when they're done," Roman assured her.

She nodded, slowly. Then she let him lead her away. That was how, for the first time ever, Violet walked into Roman Draven's room.

As they reached the door, Roman scratched the back of his neck and muttered, "Just a heads-up. I haven't exactly cleaned up."

Violet raised a brow. "Roman, I don't mind your mess."

And if she was being honest, she was dying to see what the inside of his lair looked like.

Roman pushed open the door, and his intoxicatingly male hit her first, soaked into the very bones of the room.

As expected of a cardinal alpha's quarters, the room was massive. The walls were deep obsidian and trimmed in silver. The lighting in the room was low, sultry even, and a crimson glow leaked from beneath the bed frame.

Violet gulped for half a second as her eyes landed on the massive, king-sized bed that could easily fit four, maybe five. The sheets were jet black silk, crumpled and absolutely lived-in with a shirt hung carelessly over the edge.

Her gaze tracked to the full length mirror on the opposite wall, strategically placed to catch the view of the bed from just the right angle. Of course.

Violet said nothing, choosing instead to pretend it was for checking outfits. Or whatever lie would help her sleep at night.

Books cluttered the nightstand and she scanned the titles. "The Art of War" , and "Poems That Make People Undress" . One of them was bookmarked with a receipt from a lingerie store. Violet stared at it for a moment, then just looked away.

And then she saw the posters.

Roman's walls weren't decorated with art of landscapes or wolves. There was just… him. Photos of Roman Draven in various stages of smug, smoldering narcissism were all shot in high definition.

Violet blinked at the first one with Roman shirtless, backlit by flames, and his chin tilted in that signature I-own-you smirk.

Then her eyes slid to the largest piece on the wall, and everything in her brain just malfunctioned.

It was a poster of Roman fully naked from head to toe. Yes, not even a sock spared. But he was not alone. There was an unknown woman with him, equally nude, and knelt perfectly in front of him.

Her bare back to the camera, her body was the exact coverage that kept the image from becoming scandalous. She wasn't just placed in the shot. The woman was posed, hands delicately braced on Roman's thighs, with her head bowed like worship.

The lighting was masterful with deep reds and blacks wrapping around them like smoke. It was an erotic, bold and shamelessly confident art.

Violet hated how good it was and didn't even realize she'd been staring for too long until Roman stepped into her view, blocking the poster with his body. He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"I did a bit of modeling in my free time," he offered, his voice careful.

"It's fine art," Violet said casually, as if she wasn't bothered by the sight of the woman ruining such perfect art — in her opinion.

Yet somehow, those words didn't soothe Roman. Instead, he looked like he was seconds away from being sentenced to death.

"I haven't cleaned up my room yet," Roman added meaningfully, clearly offering to take the poster down.

But Violet just smiled sweetly. "Like I said, it's good art."

Roman swallowed hard. Then, with nothing else to say and panic brewing beneath his smirk, he mumbled, "Let me get the first aid,"

And with that, Roman vanished with his heart pounding.

Women were terrifying.