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Asher appeared disheveled, his eyes wide with disbelief as he took in the scene before him: Violet’s naked body unconscious on the floor, alongside Roman’s.

He couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. Clearly, he hadn’t anticipated this turn of events, especially after spending the previous night exerting his powers playing one of his elaborate games, a game that always took its toll on him.

A power, which, though a blessing, often became a curse. An overuse of his abilities often resulted in severe headaches that was debilitating enough to bring even grown men to his knees.

Knowing this, Asher had retreated to one of Alaric’s hidden sleeping spots to recover, confident that Violet would eventually come seeking him, desperate to satisfy the hunger he had deliberately implanted in her—a hunger only he could quench.

But she wasn’t ready just yet. His little queen needed to endure a bit more before he granted her what she wanted.

No one would find him in his secret refuge, least of all Violet, who knew so little about him or his habits. There, he allowed himself to rest and clear his mind.

He had heard enough stories of other so-called "mind fuckers," as they were often referred to, who became paranoid or even lost their sanity from the strain of their abilities.

Asher had no intention of becoming one of them.

The Alpha of the West was determined to get what he wanted and live a long, unbothered life.

But who would have guessed that a moment of sleep nearly cost him everything?

Now, standing in the chaos of this scene, his face twisted in rage as he roared, "What have you done to—"

He didn’t get the chance to finish. Lightning crackled to life, and before Asher could react, Alaric unleashed his fury.

The sharp, electric tendrils struck Asher in the chest and he crumpled to the ground, his body convulsing violently.

A guttural groan escaped him as the electricity coursed through his body, leaving him trembling and incapacitated.

The room was charged with a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of fading lightning and Asher’s ragged breaths.

Alaric stood over him, his expression icy and unyielding, wisps of electricity still flickering at his fingertips.

His voice was a low, dangerous growl as he said, "You dare accuse me when this entire mess is your doing? "

"Alaric, " Griffin muttered, his tone dismissive, as if the man groaning on the floor was an afterthought. "We already know what he’s like. Don’t waste your powers on him."

Griffin shifted his gaze to the unconscious Violet. "You really think knocking her out will bring her back to her senses?"

Alaric’s eyes rested on Violet, his expression softening briefly before returning to its usual stoic calm.

"I don’t think so," he admitted. "And we can’t take that risk. We need to get her to the healer. She’d know how to handle whatever this idiot has done to her.

" His disdainful glance at Asher was sharp enough to cut.

Griffin raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? The moment we step out of this room, the Oracle will have a field day. You know she’ll spin this into the scandal of the year."

"She already knows something," Alaric said with a grim certainty. "Whether we step out or not, she’ll have her story. But she doesn’t know the details. There are only five of us who know what actually happened, and unless Roman’s beta can’t keep his mouth shut, she’ll only have enough for wild speculation. We move now."

Griffin let out a low whistle and gave a mock salute. "If you say so, boss."

Without hesitation, Griffin began collecting Violet’s discarded clothes, his movements careful, clearly making an effort not to let his gaze linger on her nakedness. This was really a very hard task. But he focused on the task at hand. As he worked, Asher let out a strained roar from the floor.

"Don’t touch her!" Asher’s voice was hoarse but laced with venom. "She’s mine. I’m to be her first. Her number one before any of you—"

Another sharp crack of lightning silenced him, leaving him writhing on the floor as Alaric’s cold gaze bore into him. Asher trembled, muttering under his breath about all the ways he’d kill Alaric once he was able.

Ignoring the tension in the room, Griffin finished dressing Violet and gently scooped her into his arms. She looked so small and fragile against his broad chest, her peaceful, childlike expression tugging at something deep inside him.

For a fleeting moment, a surge of protectiveness swelled in his heart, a fierce desire to shield her from everything and everyone.

Griffin marched toward the door with Violet cradled securely in his arms, but just as they were about to leave, Asher’s hoarse voice cut through the air.

"Don’t take her to the infirmary."

Both Griffin and Alaric turned to face him, their expressions unreadable as they studied the disheveled Alpha struggling on the ground. It was clear that even speaking was difficult for Asher, but he forced the words out.

"You know what they do there. They can’t have her."

At those words, a shadow passed over Griffin and Alaric’s faces, dark and foreboding. They exchanged a silent, knowing look, and Asher knew he had their attention. His voice cracked as he continued, "Take her to my pack house instead—"

The moment Asher mentioned his pack house, Griffin let out a deep, menacing growl that reverberated through the room. His body stiffened in defiance, his eyes flashing with anger as he made his disapproval abundantly clear.

"Fine," Asher relented with a grimace. "Your pack house, then. But call Adele. She’ll come, and she can heal her. Just don’t take her to the infirmary. Not the infirmary."

Griffin and Alaric shared another look, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a blade. After a moment, they seemed to come to an unspoken agreement. Without a word, Griffin adjusted Violet’s weight in his arms and began to move again.

Asher’s voice, desperate and insistent, rang out once more. "I’ll come visit. I need to see her."

Alaric’s cold glare turned even frostier. "Do that, and I’ll fry your dick," he snapped, and to emphasize his point, he sent a powerful bolt of lightning Asher’s way. The crackling energy struck him with enough force to knock him out cold, his body slumping to the floor.

Griffin raised an eyebrow at Alaric but said nothing. Instead, he stated firmly, "I’ll take her to my pack house."

"And I’ll get Adele," Alaric replied, though he made no move to leave the room.

Griffin tilted his head slightly, recognizing the hesitation in his friend. "I give you my word," he said, his voice steady and resolute. "I won’t do anything to her. You have my oath."

Alaric studied Griffin for a long moment, searching his expression for any sign of insincerity on his cardinal brother’s face. Only there were none. Neither does Griffin joke with his promises.

Finally satisfied, Alaric gave a curt nod and turned to leave, heading off to summon the healer. Only then did Griffin continue on his way, carrying Violet toward the safety of his pack house.

Except it was nothing short of unfortunate timing that class had ended just as Griffin stepped into the hallway with Violet cradled in his arms. The bustling corridor came to an abrupt halt as all eyes turned to the sight of the Alpha carrying the unconscious girl.

Among the crowd, was Griffin’s own very girlfriend, Amanda, who stood frozen, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits the moment she saw them.

Amanda’s jealousy flared instantly. Without hesitation, she stormed toward Griffin, her voice sharp and demanding. "What are you doing with her?" she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Violet, who looked utterly at peace in Griffin’s arms. The sight only made Amanda’s blood boil.

Griffin barely spared her a glance, his tone clipped as he replied, "Something happened. I’ll explain later."

But Amanda wasn’t having it. Her jealousy blinded her to the tension in Griffin’s expression and the urgency of his strides. "No," she barked, stepping in front of him, blocking his path. "You’re going to explain now. Why is she in your arms? What does she mean to you?"

Griffin stopped, his jaw tightening as his patience wore thin. His sharp amber eyes glinted with irritation, and his voice dropped dangerously low. "Amanda," he warned. "Step aside."

She didn’t.

"No," she spat, her voice rising. "You owe me an explanation—"

That was the last straw. Griffin’s head snapped up, and he let out a thunderous roar that echoed through the hallway like a wild storm.

The sheer force of his fury sent Amanda stumbling back, falling onto her backside with a yelp.

The crowd gasped, shrinking back from the display.

Griffin’s beastly presence loomed over her, and for the first time, Amanda saw a first hand glimpse of the monster lurking beneath his usually calm demeanor.

Her defiance crumbled into fear as she stared up at him, wide-eyed and trembling.

Griffin’s voice was ice-cold and final as he spoke. "I don’t want to see you in my bed again. It’s over between us."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and continued walking, Violet still safely secured in his arms. The hallway fell into an eerie silence, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

It wasn’t until Amanda’s friends rushed to her side, helping her to her feet, that the hallway stirred back to life. But Amanda wasn’t crying, instead, her hands were balled into fists, and her face burned with rage.

"Violet Purple," Amanda hissed under her breath, her voice venomous. "She’s going to pay for this."