Chapter 6

Avery's POV

I leaned back in my chair, eyes locked on Alpha Aaron as he rifled through his wardrobe, seemingly lost in thought. The tension in the room crackled like electricity, pressing in around me. Candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows on the walls and amplifying the unease. I maintained a relaxed posture, but inside, I was calculating every move he made, watching him with the precision of a predator. He didn’t yet realize it, but he was my prey.

"Alpha Aaron," I said, my voice smooth yet laced with challenge. It was time to provoke a reaction. "Are you seriously keeping Violet in the dungeon without any form of torture?" I tapped my stiletto heel against the table with deliberate precision, letting the sound hang like an accusation. "Isn’t it perfect? Or are you too distracted to handle her properly?"

He froze, his fingers stalling on the fabric of his clothes. I noticed the tension in his brow, and for a brief moment, it felt like the air had thickened. His jaw clenched, and I could sense the storm brewing behind those stormy blue eyes. It was impossible to tell whether his fury was aimed at me, at Violet, or something deeper that I hadn’t yet uncovered, but it was clear that I had struck a nerve.

Violet had always been a tool for him—a means to an end, a pawn in his game. But I understood that the past haunted Aaron, with Violet serving as a relentless reminder of his own weaknesses. He loathed her, yet he thrived on the control he wielded over her. Locking her away in the dungeon wasn’t merely about dominance; it fed something darker within him, something that satisfied a deeper craving for power.

But then there was me. I wasn’t a pawn, a tool, or a reminder of past mistakes. I was his true mate—the one he had been waiting for. I understood him in ways Violet never could. I could fill the emptiness that had festered inside him for too long. When he looked at me, I saw the raw, consuming love he had for me. It was everything he had wanted, and now that I was here, nothing and no one would stand in his way.

As he locked eyes with me, something flickered in his expression—something dark, something dangerous. It was as if I were gazing at a completely different person.

"Aaron, you’re quiet," I challenged, stepping closer to him, my heels clicking against the floor in the stillness. There was a thrill in watching him unravel. "Are you bothered by Violet being locked up? Or is there something else on your mind?"

He hesitated, his jaw clenched, the internal battle raging within him evident. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, but it snapped back into something colder, sharper. "I don’t need your questions, Avery," he shot back, his voice colder than I had anticipated. "Violet is where she belongs. And you—" He trailed off, clearly searching for words that wouldn’t expose too much. "You have nothing to worry about."

I tilted my head, studying him closely. I saw the conflict in his eyes, the raw need still burning for me, and the deep hatred he felt toward Violet. I knew what was going on inside his head—and I reveled in it.

"You don’t have to pretend," I said firmly, stepping closer and deliberately brushing my fingers across his arm. The contact sparked electricity between us. "You want me, not Violet. Isn’t that what really matters?”

His eyes flickered away for a brief second, and I could sense the weight of his internal conflict. He was caught between the primal desire for me and the unresolved anger directed at her. But that's the thing about Aaron—I understood him like no one else ever could. I knew exactly how to tug at the strings that would make him yield.

"I know what I want," he finally stated, his voice tight. He turned away from me, his grip on the wardrobe tightening as if it alone could anchor him.

A confident smile crept across my face. I knew he was losing his resolve, and I was ready to push him right over the edge.

Leaning in closer, I let my fingers skim over his skin again, sparking another jolt of tension in the air. "Aaron," I commanded softly, my voice firm, "I’m your true mate. Forget about Violet. She means nothing to you."

At that moment, I saw his breath hitch. There was a flicker in his eyes—a raw, desperate need that quickened my pulse. Then he turned to me, his grip firm as he pulled me close. His lips brushed my ear as he growled, low and full of purpose, "I’m finished with Violet. She’ll learn her place.”