Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,204

to be his mother.

That letter’s going to hopefully convince Violet that this is best, because he’s already under my bloody skin. He’s going to need protection, rules, and a lot of training to face the world as a monster with a secret.

After finally getting him settled, I check my phone to see if Damien or Emit, either one, has returned a single one of my many texts.

They haven’t.

Which is typical.

Real fucking typical.

They both disappear when there’s a shitload of work to do, leaving all the responsibility on me, while they selfishly tend to no one else’s problems but half of their own.

The more things change, the more they stay the bloody same.

“I’m sure you’ll be with Leiza tonight, inside Sanctuary. Let me know when the vampire’s honeymoon ends, so that I can speak with Violet as soon as possible,” I tell Avery, who is patiently waiting to be dismissed.

I give him a small smile, as I reach out to shake his hand.

“It’ll be my last order as your alpha. After that, you’re released to Emit Morrigan in good faith, good standing, and full honor,” I tell him. “He’s going to be fucking thrilled, because you’re a damn good beta, Avery. Not that you need me telling you that.”

His eyes glisten, and he clears his throat, while avoiding my gaze. Very promptly, firmly, and briefly, he shakes my hand. He hurriedly releases me, gives me a nod, and then turns and leaves the room without another word.

Avery doesn’t do emotion.

Feels good knowing it’s hard for him to leave.

My gaze drops back down to a picture of Violet on the corner of my desk. It’s one I found tossed haphazardly in a drawer, left forgotten by her. I pocketed it, and somehow it’s ended up getting framed.

My gaze is drawn to the very thing my gaze was drawn to that first day I stumbled into the middle of her argument with Anna—her unique eyes rimmed with that violet shade.

This is a bloody mess.

Her eyes do a variety of things, or they may not change at all. From what I collected during that battle, her monster can wear any eye or pupil it chooses, including Violet’s. It’s been toying with us since day one.

We’ve bloody handled her with kid-gloves, and she’s truly more powerful than anything I’ve witnessed. And her monster enjoys showing off. It’s also a little bit delusional, while also more lucid, than all of the other monsters. It’s like an entire entity of its own, rather than mindless, basic, bloodthirsty instinct as the driving force.

Violet and her monster played Idun.

In fact, Idun was played like a fucking cheap guitar. And then set up in a cheap display case and told to stay put.

Which she’s done for hours now.

I lean back in my chair, wondering how in the hell we all save face in front of Violet. To her, that shit was easy, while we’ve all made it very clear that Idun’s far more powerful than us.

We’ve also treated her like a fragile doll this entire time. I still don’t know if I can treat her differently.

Anyone who knows us knows we’ve been so damn in love with her that we’d give her almost anything she asks for.

Actually, so far, we have given her everything she’s asked for. In no time, she’s flipped our world upside down, and we’ve let her.

Meanwhile, she’s a fucking alpha, and she could have shredded us all. Then she’d be sitting on the throne, with us licking her heels.

Yet…Damien still has power over her, which…means the wheel of power is more stable than it’s been in centuries. Ever since the day we made the mistake of feeding Idun all the fear she could handle.

“We’re bloody fucking fools,” I tell my male stalker ghost, who has stuck around, likely without Violet’s knowledge. “We sat around telling you all our weaknesses, we built Idun up to a level of invincibility that was irrelevant all along, and even helped you along. We’ve been making all the same mistakes again, only this time, we didn’t realize we were doing it.”

He resists the urge to smile, remaining stoically silent and still in the corner where he’s lurked, off and on, for the last several hours.

“Why is it the only male ghost was chosen to stick to my side?” I ask for the sake of curiosity.

“Van Helsing, the monster slayer, was created in the heat of battle, when you protected women,” he answers, shrugging. “You treat women like they all need your