Chapter 415: The Prophecy About Her

"Griffin. Up! Up!"

Violet Purple clapped her hands near his ears, but she might as well have been trying to wake a tree. The man didn’t so much as twitch.

Not that she could blame him.

Last night had been all shades of lawless fun. They’d drunk enough to kill a small horse, and honestly, it was a miracle Violet was even standing. Then again, desperation did wonders. When your goal was to fix a broken relationship and return to your other boyfriends, you learned miracles are possible.

Griffin, however, hadn’t fared so gracefully. His pack brothers had poured drink after drink down his throat in celebration because apparently getting off the "unmated" market meant immediate alcohol poisoning. And this was the glorious aftermath.

"Griffin, please," Violet groaned, dragging her hand down her face. There was no moving him, he was heavy, and dead to the world.

Left with no other choice, Violet went for the nuclear option. She climbed over him and kissed him firmly on the lips. She felt the jolt through the bond before he stirred, though it was something below that moved first.

The next second, Griffin flipped her beneath him like a switch, pressing his body into hers as he kissed her senseless. Violet gasped, her fingers instinctively reaching for his hair, only to remember there was none. She sighed against his lips.

Griffin finally pulled back, grinning. "I wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day..." He was already leaning in for another kiss when Violet pressed a finger to his lips.

"Alright, my hot lord, time to get your ass moving. We’ve got a long day ahead, remember?"

"Oh, right," Griffin groaned, rolling off her. "I feel like crap."

"That’s what you get for trying to outdrink an entire pack."

"Noted."

He swung his legs off the bed and without warning dropped his shorts, revealing that unfairly perfect ass. Violet got an eyeful of it.

Griffin glanced over his shoulder with a lazy, knowing smirk. "Care to join me? Might need a hand or two."

Violet raised a brow, her lips twitching. "Tempting, but I’m already dressed," she gestured to her outfit which he clearly hadn’t noticed until now. "So yeah, five minutes, Hale. Chop-chop."

Griffin mock-saluted. "Anything the boss says." And with that, he sauntered into the bathroom.

Violet collapsed back onto the bed, the smile she’d worn for Griffin slipping away like mist.

While on the surface, she looked eager to return, but deep down, she was dreading it. The last confrontation with Roman hadn’t exactly gone well and she had no idea how things stood with Alaric or Asher now. How was she supposed to fix this? Was it even fixable?

Her fingers drifted to the mating rune carved against her neck. If only it had appeared somewhere less blindingly obvious, maybe she could speak to the others without constantly reminding them that fate had chosen Griffin over them.

Not that Violet regretted being mated to Griffin. No, not one bit. The bond was beautiful, but the timing? Not so much.

Griffin got ready in no time, and soon, they were set to leave. However, Irene had insisted she needed a word with them, and that was how they found themselves seated in her office, awkwardly perched across from her desk like two teenagers about to be lectured.

She didn’t waste time. "First of all, I would like to render an apology not just to you, but to your mother, for my earlier behavior. I know I shouldn’t be saying this to you, but since Nancy’s been ghosting my calls, here we are."

Violet wasn’t even surprised. Her mom could hold onto a grudge like it paid her rent. If Irene thought a few missed calls was the worst of it, she clearly didn’t know Nancy.

"It wasn’t my place to organize a traditional wedding without her approval. And you too," Irene added, turning her gaze fully on Violet, "forgive me for trying to coerce you into it. I swear, my intentions were good. I only wanted what I thought was best for you and Griffin."

"I’m good, Irene. Honestly," Violet said with a wave, "No hard feelings."

"Thank you, Violet." Irene let out a breath, visibly relieved. Then her expression changed. "Although, there’s something else. I’ve been wondering about the right time and place to bring it up, but I can’t hold it in anymore."

She locked eyes with Violet and said carefully, "There’s a prophecy about you, Violet."

"Excuse me?" Violet said in shock. That was not what she expected. She had thought this meeting would be about sex education. Definitely, not this.

"At first, I thought it was about Elsie," Irene admitted. "Why do you think I endured that girl for so long?"

"Whoa." Griffin cut in. "What are you talking about, Mom?"

"’The one chosen by the Alpha King would unite the four packs.’ That’s what Alice told Caroline, years ago, or so I believed." Irene’s voice was charged with conviction. "When I first saw you with my boy, Griffin, I had my doubts. But during Parents Week, watching how the others were drawn to you, I knew at once the prophecy wasn’t about Elsie. It’s about you."

Violet’s brows drew together as something clicked. "That’s why you called me ’Destined One’ that day. It felt so weird and confusing."

Irene nodded solemnly, confirming it.

"But that doesn’t make sense," Violet said now, frowning. "I’m not chosen by the Alpha King, and I’m mated to Griffin..." Her voice trailed off, tangled in doubt.

"The thing about prophecies," Irene said calmly, "is that they’re often misunderstood. They don’t always play out the way we expect. Maybe there’s a piece of the puzzle we haven’t seen yet. Still, Alice is certain you’re the one. And frankly, I see it too. Especially with what’s been going on between you and the other Alphas..." Her gaze sharpened, lingering on Violet in a way that said she knew exactly what she was talking about.

Violet’s breath caught in her throat. She began to fidget, avoiding the woman’s gaze. "I—I can explain, Irene—"

"Child," Irene said with a maternal tone, "I’ve seen fated mates before. I’ve had them in my pack. That kiss with Roman? It should’ve been impossible. If the mate bond worked the way we’ve always believed, you wouldn’t have looked at him twice. And my son—" she glanced at Griffin briefly "—he would’ve gone feral. Mates are territorial. Possessive. Griffin should’ve ripped Roman apart. But he didn’t. So yes, I don’t know what game the goddess is playing, but I do know this, trust your instincts, Violet."

She straightened up, her tone now resolute. "It won’t be easy. This goes against our laws, against everything we thought we knew about the mate bond. But if the prophecy is true, then eventually, it’ll all make sense."

Finally, Irene said. "And no matter how this unfolds, rest assured you have my support, Destined One."