There was a situation. Where was Violet going to stay?
Not that there weren’t enough rooms in the lodge. But the real question was—who was she going to stay with?
The lodge was built in a grand U-shape, with three main wings enclosing a wide stone courtyard, where a heated fountain bubbled gently at the center. It held about thirty rooms, including several luxurious suites, spread across two floors.
Upstairs, long balconies overlooked the courtyard, offering a sweeping view of the surrounding landscape. But even with all its elegance, the owner likely hadn’t anticipated the arrival of a group with a relationship as unconventional as theirs.
There were three private cabins scattered deeper into the woods for anyone wanting a more authentic communion with nature.
Yeah, no thanks. Definitely not happening. That screamed girl-goes-on-mountain-vacation-and-ends-up-in-a-thriller-murder-mystery energy, and Violet wasn’t signing up for that.
Technically, she should’ve been rooming with Griffin, he was her mate after all. But they’ve spent enough time already, and to settle the growing argument, Violet made the executive decision to stay alone.
As flattering and thrilling as it was to be surrounded by her men, a little breathing room was necessary. The sheer volume of testosterone was choking sometimes, and she needed a clear head.
To her surprise, none of them fought it. There was no sulking, no arguing, just their mutual agreement. That alone was suspicious, but Violet let it go and took it as a small win. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for their group dynamic after all.
Her room upstairs was nothing short of indulgent. Warm amber lights glowed from wrought-iron sconces on the walls, casting a golden hue that made the place feel enchanted. The wood floors were dark and smooth beneath her bare feet, with a plush burgundy rug spilling out from under the bed.
The bed itself was hand-carved from raw timber, wide enough to hold two or three of her men, if they squeezed. Not that she was planning anything. Yet.
The red bedsheets were soft and smelled faintly of cedar and warm linen, the kind of scent that made one want to fall into them and sleep their trouble away.
To the left, a pair of wide glass doors opened onto a private balcony, where crisp mountain air slipped through the crack she’d left open. From there, Violet could see the thick pine forest stretching for miles, mist swirling through the treetops. The cold bit against her skin, but the view was breathtaking.
In the corner of the room sat a vintage-style chaise lounge beneath an old framed painting of the lodge from years ago, and beside it, a small table stacked with books that probably none of the guests ever read but looked great anyway.
The bathroom was nearly as large as the bedroom, all stone and brass, with a tempting clawfoot tub that could fit a small army.
Yeah, it was confirmed. She was going to enjoy her time here.
It was tempting to just jump into bed and sleep the evening away, but there was a slight problem. They had come with nothing, and Alaric had lent her his clothes since hers were soaked from the rain. But that wasn’t going to cut it if they were staying here longer. She needed clothes, and a few personal essentials.
The same went for the others, and they were all ready to go shopping as soon as Violet joined them downstairs in the lounge.
"Do you have a car here? Because ours is wrecked, thanks to the thunderstorm you summoned hours ago," Asher added with dry sarcasm. "And, you know, Griffin’s size."
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