The Gender Game 5 (The Gender Fall)(45)

I stood up abruptly and began moving before the logical part of my brain could talk me out of it. Everyone had fallen silent again, but I ignored them all, my focus solely on Violet. She looked up at me, her gray eyes regarding me calmly from behind her long eyelashes. I caught a flash of amusement there, which only made my resolution stronger.

I didn’t say anything, just effortlessly picked her up. She didn’t struggle or protest. As I turned to march her out of the room, Violet rested her chin on my shoulder and waved her left hand to the group. “Bye, guys! Apparently, it’s time for me to go to bed.” Her voice was cheerful.

I bit back a growl at the round of chuckles that erupted in our wake and resisted the urge to throw her over my shoulder, reminding myself she had just had surgery. She needed to be treated with care and not manhandled—yet, if there were ever a female in need of a spanking, it was Violet.

That wasn’t the Patrian in me talking; that was the alpha in me talking. I knew I was capable of reasoning and logic, but not on this matter. Not when she had almost died four days ago. Violet was going to go rest and stay there, even if I had to tie her to the damn bed.

I stormed into the bedroom, using the heel of my foot to shove the door closed behind me. Then I crossed over to the bed and deposited her in it. Straightening, I expected to see her looking angry or frustrated, so I was a bit surprised when she stared up at me, a bemused grin playing on her lips.

My eyes narrowed into slits, and I regarded her warily. Why was she grinning? There was nothing funny about this! She needed to learn to stay in bed when she was unwell. Unless… I felt some of my anger diminish as I remembered what Dr. Tierney had said about one of the side effects being emotional imbalances. Had I hurt her when I moved her?

Before a surge of panic and concern could hit me, Violet leaned back into the pillow, the bemused expression deepening. “Your alpha male side is showing again,” she said, a little song in her voice.

That was definitely Violet, I thought. Good—I wanted to be angry for this. Her lucidity made it easier for me to act, because I knew it wouldn’t distress her too much. If I was honest, I knew it wouldn’t sway her in the slightest, but I still had to try to convince her. “I don’t care. You need to be in bed,” I announced.

The look she gave me was one of amusement mingled with that knowing look, as if she realized I was being irrational somehow. I wasn’t, of course—I was far too in control for that—but still.

“For how long? Dr. Tierney let me out. That means I am capable of leaving it.”

“Violet, I know you—you’re going to push yourself too hard. You don’t need to worry about what’s going on out there; you need to focus on getting better.”

Violet frowned and shook her head. “Viggo, I’m not going to stay in this bed forever,” she said softly.

“You will if I have anything to say about it,” I retorted.

Violet cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “My brother is out there,” she said flatly, and I frowned, recognizing that I had trodden into dangerous waters.

I cleared my throat and tried a different tactic. “I know that, and I promise, I will find him. But Violet, you need to understand that you almost died—no! When I found you, you weren’t even breathing! You died. Do you understand what that was like for me? I thought I had lost you!”

My voice ended in a shout, and I blinked, taken aback by my own outburst. Looking down, I realized my hands were shaking, and I balled them into fists just to hide the tension. My heart thudded loudly in my chest, and I took a giant step back and turned away, trying to calm myself.

While I breathed heavily, I heard the bedsprings squeak under Violet’s weight, followed by the sound of her bare feet hitting the floor. I exhaled sharply and closed my eyes, searching for strength, but finding none.

With a groan, I turned around and began to move around the bed toward her. Violet froze and dropped back onto the bed, halfway into trying to stand. “What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“Getting into bed,” I said. “You’re clearly going to try to come and comfort me, and I don’t want you leaving the bed, so I’m coming to you.”

Violet’s smile bloomed, and I could see her fighting back a laugh. I realized how ridiculous I was being, but I didn’t care. Her health was more precious to me than my pride—but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it. My motions were abrupt and tense as I pulled the blanket down to the foot of the bed before dropping into it, the bedsprings sagging under my weight.

I propped myself up with some pillows and then crossed my arms. Violet had already lowered herself into a lying position, and I felt her scoot over slightly next to me, her right shoulder bumping mine, her left hand folding over her body to rest lightly on my chest, over my heart. I sighed, trying to hold tightly to my anger, but it was hard. Lying next to her was its own special torment, but one I wouldn’t trade for anything.