Violet woke groggily, hurting like hell. The last thing she remembered was the explosion and the fiery flames engulfed them whole. She jerked upright, only to feel a crushing weight pinning her down.
"Ugh..." she groaned, pain tearing through every part of her body. It hurt to move even a finger, not to mention dust clogged her throat and eyes, making it hard to see.
Violet coughed until her lungs burned, wiping grit from her lashes. The morning should have been bright, yet smoke turned everything a choking twilight.
Then she saw what held her down. It wasn’t a thing, but a person.
Griffin Hale.
He had thrown himself over her, shielding her from the blast. But he wasn’t lucky because Iron beams from a shattered pillar jutted through his chest. His eyes were closed, his face slack.
"No, no, no..." Violet’s voice broke as she tried to shove him off, but he was too heavy.
"Somebody help!" she screamed. There was no answer, just fire, rubble, and silence. Not one atom of life.
She tried to tap into the bond, but it was gone. Cold emptiness met her when she reached for Alaric. Her lightning prince was nowhere to be seen, probably buried beneath the rubble. She knew instinctively what that meant and a great wail left her lips.
It felt like a great fusion had split her soul into two. The pain was so raw she wanted to die with it.
"No..." Violet screamed, the sorrow choking her. She couldn’t live without her mates. No, she might as well die with them.
But her anguish didn’t stay inside her. The elements mourned with her. The wind picked up, pebbles lifting and spinning; the temperature climbed until the air simmered. It was almost like the time at the Pine Lodge, except this time Violet wasn’t losing control — she was ready to self-destruct.
Griffin’s body disintegrated into dust as Violet rose to her feet, floating in midair, still screaming in agony. Blood, not tears, streaked her cheeks. Everything around her began to crumble into ash.
And then, suddenly, the world froze. Debris hung midair, fire turned to glass, and the sound vanished. Violet’s scream echoed off into nothing, confusion cutting through her rage.
A figure in a cloak stepped out of the stillness, walking toward her through the suspended embers.
Violet squinted, trying to make out the figure. The cloaked silhouette drew closer, step by step, until it stopped right in front of her. Then slender hands lifted the hood, and a cascade of raven-black hair spilled free.
"Goddess daughter," the woman said, bowing her head in solemn acknowledgment.
Violet’s breath caught. Recognition hit her hard. "Seer Alice?" she whispered. She had never met the woman in person, but Alice’s face was famous enough across the East pack to be etched into memory.
Alice’s gaze swept over the frozen wreckage around them. "I see you received my message."
"Message?" Violet frowned, glancing at the destruction.
"This," Alice said, her tone heavy, "is what will come to pass, unless you stop it."
Violet’s breath stuttered, hope building in her chest. "Wait, are you saying this is a vision?"
"Yes." Alice’s voice was urgent. "I had no time to send a proper warning. Only you would understand the gravity of this. Forgive me for tearing you from your mating fever, but the situation is dire."
"So this will happen?" Violet’s voice cracked, tears burning her eyes. "I’m about to lose my mates?"
Alice’s expression was grave. "Everyone will die. Unless you act."
"Who’s behind this?" Violet demanded, rage in her tone.
"Patrick Vale," Alice answered. "His people are already inside the North pack. I bought you a sliver of time, but what you do with it is up to you." Her gaze sharpened. "Be warned, Violet, prepare yourself for loss."
Violet’s stomach knotted in dread. "Whose death?" Griffin and Alaric’s lifeless forms still haunted her vision.
Alice shook her head. "By telling you this, I’ve already shifted the course of events. But remember, to whom much is given, much is expected. You are the goddess daughter, your role is to protect this world, not destroy it."
"Then tell me how! What am I supposed to do in so little time?" Violet shouted, desperate.
Alice’s figure began to blur. "Move fast. Every action counts. Trust your instincts. Most of all, remember, this is not a dream." She lifted her chin with pride. "Good luck to you, Goddess child."
"Violet!" someone screamed her name, and a violent force slammed into her, shattering the vision and tearing her back into the waking world.
Violet woke to find Alaric hovering over her, fear etched into every line of his face.
"What the hell, Violet?!" he cursed, visibly shaken.
Disoriented, Violet stared up at him. "What do you mean by that?"
Alaric’s tone cracked, frustration bleeding into desperation. "We were just kissing—one second you were fine, and the next you passed out. I tried waking you, but you wouldn’t move. I swear, Violet, I thought you died!" His voice softened, realizing he shouldn’t pass his frustration on her. "What happened to you?"
"What happened..." Violet muttered, trying to make sense of it herself. Then her gaze snagged on the steaming tray of food nearby: rich venison stew, warm buttered rolls, slices of honey bread, roasted root vegetables glistening with herbs, and a dish of wild berries dusted with sugar.
Her breath hitched. No way.
"The food... it’s exactly the same from my dream."
Alice’s face flashed in her memory, along with the chilling words: "Most of all, remember, this is not a dream."
"Holy shit!" Violet shot to her feet, heart pounding as everything clicked into place. The vision hadn’t been a dream at all. It was a warning.
Everything was happening just as Alice had shown her. And if she was right, then while they were here having their cozy little breakfast, Patrick was orchestrating their deaths.
Her eyes darkened, fury igniting in her veins. That fucking bastard.