Page 36

Violet was not the first to finish the race; there were already human males who made it with their masculine strength, not to mention Lila as well. But then, she wasn’t the last either.

However, the race was over, and right now, the result was obvious—those who had made it and the ones who quit halfway. And among the quitters, Violet saw Daisy Fairchild.

"Fuck!" Violet cursed when she saw Daisy looking around with what looked like a crestfallen expression and tears in her eyes.

When their eyes connected, it felt like the emotion slammed straight into Violet’s chest. She hadn’t helped her, having been busy with Ivy. And now the guilt hit her hard.

Lila must have noticed the exchange and picked up on her thoughts because she said, "It’s not your fault. You can’t save everyone, Violet."

Then, as if to lighten the mood, she added in a chirpy tone, "At least, on the bright side, you’ve just proven you’re not as emotionless as stone."

"And whose fault is that?!" Violet snarled and took off.

She couldn’t bear to be around Lila or stare at Daisy’s disappointed face right now, which didn’t make any sense because it was none of her business.

This was a race. Everyone was on their own.

But then she had helped Ivy, the roommate she liked the least, and abandoned Daisy, the warmer one.

Well, "abandoned" being a strong word, but whatever.

This was why Violet preferred being on her own. It wasn’t because she was a social outcast, no, she knew better than that. Violet knew the truth, and it was because she cared too much. And in a brutal world like this one, caring too much only got you betrayed, a knife in the back for your trouble.

Violet took a moment to gather herself, forcing her emotions into submission. This was all Lila’s doing—her words, her presence, were making her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

But then, she wouldn’t let that girl’s influence undo her. By the time Violet opened her eyes, the tight grip of anxiety had faded, and she felt back in control once again.

In her effort to collect herself, Violet had moved to the back of the crowd, where she suddenly caught sight of Griffin.

Wait a minute, Griffin Hale?

Violet wasn’t sure she’d ever seen that brute smile, and he certainly wasn’t smiling now.

The anger rolling off him was almost tangible, like a living force that made her skin prickle.

It brought back memories of yesterday when he had nearly choked her to death.

Was it really just yesterday? It felt like a week ago, with so much happening in between.

Violet froze as the space between her and Griffin closed up, and she expected him to grab her by the throat once again and perhaps this time finish her off for good.

But Griffin strode past her, his shoulder brushing by ever so briefly, but that small contact felt like she had been enveloped in flames. Heat traveled to every part of her body and left her burning.

She had caught his scent, and it was a rich blend of sun-soaked woods and warm amber, infused with hints of fresh summer citrus and earthy spices. He smelled full of life and strength.

Instinctively, Violet turned to follow him, curious about who had drawn his wrath this time. Others seemed to sense his rage too, parting before him like a sea of bodies. His strides quickened, his focus sharpening as if he had locked onto his target and couldn’t wait to unleash his fury.

Violet slipped through the opening in the crowd before it could close, trailing Griffin to the front. She arrived just in time to see the exact moment he locked eyes with his prey.

Oh, fuck.

Asher Nightshade was in the middle of a discussion with his friend and fellow cardinal, Alpha Roman, when Roman suddenly trailed off, his gaze shifting to the angry figure rapidly approaching them.

As if he could sense the storm brewing behind him, Asher turned at precisely the right moment, only to be met with a guttural roar from Griffin. The sound was wild and dangerous, cutting through the air with such force it sent shivers racing down Violet’s spine.

Almost simultaneously, Griffin’s fist connected with Asher in a punch so powerful it sent him flying meters away, a clear display of the stunning strength packed into that one strike.

But Griffin didn’t stop there. He advanced on Asher without hesitation, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and yanking him upright with an almost feral intensity. Then he began driving punch after brutal punch into him.

Each blow landed with such force and intensity that it made her stomach twist, a visceral reaction to the sheer violence unfolding before her eyes. It was horrifyingly clear. Griffin wasn’t going to stop, not until he killed Asher.

"Asher!" Violet screamed his name before she even realized it, her body moving instinctively as she took a step forward. She barely managed that step before someone grabbed her from behind, halting her.

She turned sharply to see who it was, her anger flaring, but the familiar face of Dion met her gaze.

"Let me go! That bastard is going to kill him!" Violet shouted, struggling fiercely against his grip.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Dion snapped, holding her firmly. "No one interferes between two alphas fighting, unless you want to end up dead."

"But he’s going to kill him," Violet snarled, her hatred for Griffin bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t as if she was a die-hard supporter of Asher, but if there was anyone who had helped her since she arrived at this academy, it was the West Alpha.

Whatever his twisted motives might be, at least he wanted her alive and thriving.

She needed an ally like him alive, not dead.

"No, he won’t kill him. This isn’t the first time two alphas have fought," Dion said with a sharp edge, his voice intense, leaving her momentarily stunned.

"In case you haven’t figured it out yet, fighting is the way of the wolves.

They fight to survive. Fight to prove themselves.

Fight to own the things they want. Fight to be at the top. "

The heat in his words seemed to hit her harder than his grip, but it also worked to settle her nerves. Her anxiety dropped slightly as she turned her attention back to the fight. Asher was finally landing punches of his own, but it was clear Griffin still had the upper hand.

As if to prove Dion’s point, the coach stood casually from his seat, his demeanor entirely unbothered, as if this fight was nothing out of the ordinary. It was no cause for alarm at all.

At once, Violet felt a sudden wave of embarrassment for overreacting.

The coach’s voice carried over the chaos. "Alright, this is the point where we’d unfortunately have to call it a day. You should return now."

Some of the students cheered at the prospect of skipping another round of grueling training, but not a single one moved. Their attention remained glued to the fight.

"I don’t understand," Violet said, her brows furrowed. "Do they just wake up and pick fights like mad dogs, or is there a reason Griffin is doing this?"

Dion turned to her, his expression incredulous. "You haven’t figured it out yet?"

"Figured out what?" she asked, confused.

His gaze grew serious, his voice low as he said, "Clayton is part of Griffin’s pack. Asher beat him up. Think of this as Griffin getting revenge."

"Oh, fuck," Violet breathed, her chest tightening.

This fight was because of her.

Asher was taking this beating because of her, and she had no idea how to feel about it.