Chapter 467: The Usurper

As if Griffin wasn’t already being rough, his hand suddenly wrapped around her throat, pinning her to the armrest and forcing her hips to arch higher. Then he drove into her harder and deeper, slamming against her g-spot until her vision blurred.

The pleasure was so overwhelming that Violet couldn’t take it. She bit down on Alaric’s length, and he cursed, the shock sending him over the edge. He came with a guttural snarl, spilling into her mouth and she took it like a good girl.

At the same time, her walls clamped tight around Griffin, who let out a growl so feral it vibrated through her bones as he buried himself deep, the two of them breaking apart in a fierce, soul-ripping climax.

Alaric’s dick slipped from her mouth just as Violet collapsed on the couch completely spent, every inch of her aching with sensitivity.

Griffin eased out of her with care, his lips trailing gentle kisses along her spine, shoulder, and neck—anywhere he could reach. Behind her, Asher’s deep, feral growl filled the air as he too surrendered to his release in a final, shuddering wave of carnal bliss.

Violet smiled through the haze of exhaustion, her body relaxed. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was airborne. Her eyes fluttered open in alarm only to find herself cradled in Asher’s arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep now. You’re safe."

And just like that, Violet melted into him, her body going limp as sleep reclaimed her completely.

Meanwhile...

Henry Nightshade stood on the balcony of an abandoned building, high above the slumbering streets of Aster City. The night air was cold, but obviously not enough to bother him. He wasn’t here to enjoy the view, he was waiting instead.

His hands were resting lightly on the rusting railing, his posture relaxed when a soft click shattered the quiet and the cold mouth of a gun was pressed against the side of his neck.

"Did you come alone?" Patrick Vale asked, stepping out from the darkness, his voice calm but alert, the gun still pressed against Henry’s skin.

Henry didn’t panic. He didn’t even blink. Instead, he scoffed. "Do you think I have time to chase after you? That job belongs to Elijah. I have better things to do with my time."

Patrick considered him, then lowered the gun and came to stand beside him as silence passed between them, thick but not uncomfortable. They stared out over the city together, not as allies, but not quite as enemies either.

"I once made you a suggestion," Henry spoke at last. "Now’s the time to act."

Patrick glanced sideways. "You’re finally ready to kill the cardinal alphas? Isn’t that a bit hasty? They’re more profitable to me alive than dead."

"Yes, it’s hasty," Henry admitted. "But that girl Violet Purple is making moves I don’t like. If I don’t strike now, I risk losing my son completely. As for the cardinal alphas, you don’t need them. United, they’ll bring you ruin, neither can you hold them down forever either. That last experience should be enough lesson." He said and Patrick felt the remnant of the scar on his face.

Henry went on to say, "It is better to cut the thread now before it tightens around your neck. To compensate, you can have the girl. Violet. She won’t last long once her mate is dead anyway."

Patrick was quiet for a beat. "And what about your son?"

Henry’s tone didn’t falter. "He’ll be angry and probably resist. But he’ll come around. Asher is smart and he knows better than to jeopardize his future. I’m all he has left now."

Patrick turned fully this time, eyeing him with curiosity. "You know, I never understood you. I want to wipe out your kind, and yet here you are, a werewolf, offering to help your exterminator. That doesn’t sound right or should I just call you a traitor?"

Henry’s jaw ticked. "We both want something, and we both can’t get it alone. Call it what it is, a profitable truce."

He let the words settle before adding, "Once the alphas are dead, the East, North, and South will lose their relevance. They won’t have powerful heirs anymore. Suspicion would surely fall on the West, yes, but ultimately? You’ll take the fall. Patrick Vale, the mad scientist and extreme anti-werewolf activist, struck again, killed the heirs and only Asher survived. How tragic."

Patrick gave a slow, knowing smile. "So that’s your plan. Alright. I’ll help you but on one condition."

A low growl slipped from Henry’s throat. He hated conditions. But Patrick remained calm.

"You’re the one who needs my help, remember?"

Henry’s lips curled. "Or I could just bundle you up and hand you over to Elijah. I’m sure he’d be delighted."

"Are you sure?" Patrick laughed as he gestured lazily toward the street below.

Henry followed his gaze only to see red dots crawl across his chest.

He had snipers in place.

But Henry didn’t flinch.

"And what makes you think I came alone either?" Henry said coolly, tilting his head, and as if on cue, deep, chilling howls echoed in the distance.

Patrick’s smirk returned. "Good. It’s nice to know we don’t trust each other."

Then his tone turned cold. "But let me ask you, would it really be to your benefit if Elijah found me? What do you think he’d do if he discovered a certain Alpha was trying to usurp the throne?"

Henry’s expression thinned. "What do you want?"

Patrick answered without hesitation. "I want you to capture Violet Purple yourself. Personally. I want an experienced Alpha on the field, someone who won’t mess it up. My men are efficient, yes, but they can get carried away. I don’t want her dead. Not yet. You bring her to me, alive. That’s my condition for handing over my men and resources."

Henry was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched. But eventually, with great reluctance, he muttered, "Fine. You get rid of the alphas and I’ll deliver Violet Purple. Alive."

Patrick held out his hand. "We have a deal, then."

Henry took it.

"Deal."