Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Not Like Griffin
Violet jolted upright, pushing herself away from him so abruptly it was as if she’d been burned. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what had happened. The last thing she remembered was fighting to stay awake during the lesson and…. Oh.

Looking around, Violet realized to her chagrin that classes were long over and she had been sleeping all this while. The gods knew how many classes she has missed since then.

She glanced at Alaric, who was watching her with an expression that seemed to expect gratitude.

“That’s not happening, dude,” Violet said flatly. Then her eyes dropped to his jacket, where a small stain gleamed faintly. Her stomach flipped in mortification. “Uh… sorry for the drool. Just the drool. ” She emphasized.

Alaric remained silent, his piercing gaze locked on hers as though trying to decipher the inner workings of her mind. His silence unnerved her, and she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

Annoyed and embarrassed, Violet stood abruptly, intent on leaving the awkward situation behind. But before she could take a step, Alaric’s hand shot out, gripping her arm firmly, and guided her back into her seat.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Violet snapped, glaring at him.

“We have unfinished business,” Alaric said with a calm but unyielding voice. “I believe you were about to tell me about a certain dream?”

Violet frowned, shaking her head. “Not at all. There’s nothing to tell.”

“Fine,” Alaric said, leaning back slightly. His tone turned sharper, edged with challenge. “We’ll do it the hard way then. But you’ll find out that unlike Griffin, who you can emotionally manipulate with your tears, that sort of trick doesn’t work on me.”

Violet’s jaw dropped. He *knew.* Her heart raced, her cheeks burning with fresh humiliation as she recalled the incident with Griffin. While her tears might have started as a ploy with Griffin, they’d turned genuine by the end. Not that the lightning prince would ever understand that.

Her breath caught as Alaric began to pull off his gloves. When his bare hands were finally exposed, sparks of lightning crackled between his fingertips, dancing like threads of raw energy.

The air around them seemed to charge, growing heavy with tension. Violet’s throat tightened as she watched him manipulate the electric currents effortlessly, the tendrils of light weaving and snapping like a living thing under his control.

Violet stared, her breath shallow, both mesmerized and alarmed. “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt to sound strong. Unafraid.

Alaric drew out a tendril of electricity, pulling it from his palm as though it were a living, breathing thing. The thread of lightning twisted and coiled like a serpent, humming faintly with raw energy. Its pale blue glow cast eerie shadows across his sharp features, making him appear dangerous.

Violet’s breath hitched, and she flinched slightly when the tendril came close, the static in the air raising the fine hairs on her arms. Her golden eyes darted from the lightning to Alaric’s face, only to find his gaze slightly glazed over, his attention seemingly focused on the dancing current in his hand.

“Do you know what electricity does to the human body, Violet Purple?” he asked, his voice deliberately low, each word dropping like a heavy stone. The slow, dangerous tone made her stomach churn.

Violet gulped, unable to speak, as he continued, his focus still on the lightning.

“It travels through the body at speeds you can’t even comprehend,” he said, his tone soft but laced with menace. “The nerves? They’re the first to go—fried instantly. Pain receptors? Overwhelmed before you can even scream.”

The lightning wisp flicked closer, crackling ominously in the charged air between them. Violet recoiled slightly, her back pressing against the chair.

“And the heart,” Alaric continued, his tone chillingly clinical, “isn’t designed to handle that kind of shock. It seizes up. Stops. A human has… seconds. Maybe a minute. But a werewolf?” He shrugged lightly, as though discussing the weather. “We have a better chance of surviving. Why? Our bodies heal. Yours doesn’t.”

Violet’s chest tightened. She thought hard, trying to determine if Alaric was truly capable of carrying out such a threat or if this was just another one of his twisted games the alphas were good at playing.

But then, his expression gave nothing away, his pale blue eyes cold and detached, as though he were merely recounting facts.

As if to make good on his threat, the thread of lightning hovered closer, its glow reflected in her wide, fearful eyes. Alaric’s gaze shifted to her then, the ice in his eyes thawing just slightly as he focused fully on her. “Now,” he said, his voice a smooth, quiet command. “Tell me about the dream. Eveything.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and for a brief moment, Violet considered telling him to go fuck himself. Why was he so interested in the dream? But the soft hum of the electricity, the sharp sting of its heat in the air, and the cold intensity in Alaric’s gaze told her otherwise.

She gulped and blurted out, “Fine! I’ll tell you!”

Alaric seemed satisfied by the answer, retracting the lightning into his hand, where it vanished with a quiet snap. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, his expression smug.

“Good choice, Violet,” he said, his voice still carrying that warning edge. “Now, start talking.”

Violet fixed Alaric with such a hard stare that it seemed she was trying to bore a hole straight through his head. Fine, if he wanted to invade her private dream, she’d tell him everything.

Drawing a deep breath, she began, “It’s true. I did dream about Asher. He—”

“Wait.” Alaric cut her off sharply. “What led to the dream? Was it one of his mind manipulations, or did you conjure him up on your own?”

“I don’t know.” Violet hesitated, “I can’t exactly tell, especially after he…” She stopped abruptly, realizing she’d already revealed too much.

Alaric’s sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing. His tone turned firmer, pressing her, “After he did what, Violet?”

Her heart began to race, the memory flashing vividly in her mind as a heat rose unbidden within her. Swallowing hard, Violet admitted, “He caught me trying to escape the academy… and then he punished me.”

Alaric leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, a mix of curiosity and something almost sympathetic. “And how exactly did he punish you?”

Violet’s breath hitched, her palms clammy as she fought to suppress the heat heightened.

Her voice wavered as she confessed, “He… he spanked me… until I… desired him.”