Once her classmates discussed what kind of group 'Supernatural 101' is going to be, they dispersed easily. The flurry of excitement surrounding William Wolf's endorsement—and Ken Castelli's sudden, quiet alignment—quickly evaporated, leaving the honors classroom as still and expectant as a church before a sermon. Violet began gathering her ridiculously oversized textbooks, feeling the familiar, uncomfortable weight of her gray disguise. She half-expected Ken to melt away, but he didn't. He remained, poised and almost unnervingly patient, waiting for the room to clear completely.
"To guide her to Mr. Davies," he finally stated, his voice a low, melodic baritone that made the air around them feel thicker, "the teacher who is supposed to arrange for discounted driving lessons."
Violet nodded, playing the part of the earnest, slightly overwhelmed new girl. She busied herself stuffing notes into her backpack while Ken began a strangely intense discourse on the practicalities of South Dakota life. He explained to her that given it is South Dakota, it is better to take both commercial and personal driving classes together, for it will turn out to be useful at least one time in life. Especially so in South Dakota, where sometimes even the nearest Uber starts ten kilometers away.
"It's about self-sufficiency, Miss Darkwood," Ken concluded, leaning against the teacher's desk, his amber eyes pinning her in place. "Dependence is a form of vulnerability, particularly in places like this, where the wilderness can swallow you whole. You should be able to drive a tractor if you have to."
Violet had to admit he was making sense, a practical, logical counterpoint to the romantic chaos William represented. She nodded her head, pulling the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. She made a point of looking down, keeping her face hidden behind the twin shields of her thick-rimmed glasses and her hood.
"You have beautiful eyes," Ken complimented her all of a sudden, his voice shifting from informative to intimately suggestive in a heartbeat.
Violet became flustered. It wasn't the first time she'd been complimented, but coming from Ken, the unexpected intimacy felt like a calculated strike, designed to throw her off balance. She stumbled internally, searching for a neutral response, but before she could find her footing, she found her balance real soon.
In that moment she became flustered, her eyes met those of Ken. His eyes flashed red. It was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it flicker, like a spark from flint, before they returned to the innocent sparkling amber hue they were.
A fluke? Violet frowned in thought, but discarded that as a fluke after a second or two. She'd read enough of the "wolf mysteries" to know that red eyes were often an indicator of a certain predatory species—one she certainly didn't want to entertain in a high school classroom. Ken's compliment, the sudden eye contact, the flashing red, and the shift in his voice, all felt like an attempt to test her. To use some kind of glamour or charm to gauge her reaction.
What he saw was the flustered, awkward girl. What she felt was a slight, almost negligible prickle of magical energy—a sensation she hadn't realized she was capable of feeling until the moment it was gone. If it was a magical attempt, it was the weakest thing she'd ever encountered. It was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a single piece of sandpaper.
Ken suddenly became extremely silent following the incident, almost to the extent Violet wondered if he has a bipolar disease. His behavior also took a turn from 'Friendly neighborhood European gentry' type to 'New York investor' in a moment. The warmth in his voice was replaced by a cool, calculating detachment.
Violet sneaked a peek at him often, however, he did not turn to her once after their exchange, simply staring out the window, his mind clearly working through a complex internal problem. His silence was infinitely more intimidating than his talk. He was dissecting her, she realized, trying to understand why his charm—or whatever that quick red flash had been—had failed to leave a mark.
They walked to the bus stop in silence, Ken maintaining a respectful, yet unnerving, distance. It was a short walk, the cold air already biting at their exposed skin. Violet was glad for the bus, the single school route that ran near the outskirts of town. It gave her a sense of normalcy she craved.
The bus arrived, smelling faintly of old diesel and winter coats. Ken sat down a few rows behind her. She took a window seat, pulling her headphones out but not turning them on, preferring to listen to the drone of the engine and the muffled chatter of the other students.
Ken's presence still felt heavy, like a shadow in her peripheral vision. She was sensitive to male presence, especially after the incident that led them to Deadwood, but Ken's felt different—not threatening in a physical, brute force way, but more like a spider watching its web.
A tall, skinny boy with a shock of bright orange hair and glasses two sizes too big for his face dropped into the seat next to her.
"Hey, Miss Darkwood!" he chirped. "I'm Lenny. I'm thinking about joining your club. You guys got an online forum yet?"
Violet smiled beneath her mask. "Not yet, Lenny. Just getting the formalities done. We'll start with physical meetings and maybe get a forum up by next week."
Lenny immediately launched into a passionate explanation of his capabilities. "I'm good with computers, better than most! I can set up a whole dark web forum, completely untraceable, with encrypted channels. For Supernatural 101, you need layers of security, right? I could be your digital defense expert."
Violet spent the next ten minutes engaging him, asking genuine questions about security and encryption. She realized the value of the club wasn't just a cover story, but a way to build a small community of useful, interesting allies. Lenny's excitement was a welcome distraction from the silent weight of Ken behind her. The exchange also confirmed her theory about herself—her unusual strength and preternatural grace are just two parts of her identity. The other, the ability to organize, lead, and be sensitive to a magical presence, has always been there, only hidden behind years of fear and self-loathing. She could be smart, too, even while being the awkward, dowdy new girl.
The bus continued its long, winding route. It traveled beyond the residential area, through fields covered in an undisturbed blanket of snow, and past barren-looking hills. The conversation with Lenny finally wound down when the bus reached his stop.
The bus stopped at the boy's location.
"Hey! Count me in for your club. I am good with computers, better than most!" he told her, as he got up.
He waved a 'goodbye' to Violet happily as the bus moved forward.
Violet watched the snow field field scroll by, thinking about the potential of her little organization. Her house is far, but the bus does make a trip farther to another community.
Suddenly, something flashed by in her field of vision. It was a fleeting shape—dark, powerful, moving with impossible speed across the snow-dusted moor.
'Is that… Is that a wolf?!'
Violet pasted herself to the bus window to observe more clearly, but the bus made a turn under the bridge, then there's a snow mound obstructing her vision.
She got up and tried to peek through the back window of the bus, but there's nothing visible. The shape was gone, swallowed by the vast white landscape. Her heart hammered in her chest. Had she just seen William? Or just a regular wolf? Her mind instantly dismissed the latter. No regular wolf moved with that kind of calculated, blurred speed, as if it was intentionally keeping pace with the moving vehicle. It had been the wolf from the lake, she was sure of it.
He's close.
The bus driver called loudly. "South side mansion!"
"Getting down!" Violet hollered, but she kept turning back as she got down.
She stepped off the bus onto the cleared, cracked pavement of the service road that led to her estate. The snow here had been recently plowed but was already dusted with fresh, fine powder. The isolation was immediate and profound. The bus's engine rumble faded quickly, leaving only the sound of the wind sighing over the empty fields.
Violet observed her surroundings keenly after getting down. She scanned the horizon, the treeline, and the distant, dark silhouette of her mansion. There's no trace of a wolf, not even a splinter of hair from another living being anywhere near. The fresh snow was pristine, unbroken.
It must have been a trick of the light, she tried to rationalize, but the chill in her bones was not from the arctic air. She felt like prey being watched.
Thus, She almost jumped out of her bones when she heard a greeting.
"Hello!" a deep baritone called from behind her, setting her skin on fire.
Viiolet would have tripped and flailed all over herself like a snow goose had she not had the preternatural grace of a wolf. The voice shocked her silly, yanking her from the tense vigilance of the wilderness back to the equally tense reality of high school politics.
She turned around, facing the man.
It's William Wolf, in all his effortless 'Abercrombie' glory!
He stood about twenty feet down the road, exactly where the bus had pulled away. How could he look so lean and sexy in the damned puffed up winter clothes?
Wait! She had to take back her words! He's not wearing winter clothes at all!
He was wearing a simple cardigan and corduroys in this weather. In the freezing air, with a relentless wind chill, William stood there as if he was enjoying a mild spring afternoon. His clothes were completely insufficient for the Dakota winter, yet he was radiating a casual warmth.
Is he trying to freeze at her doorstep?
No. He doesn't seem cold at all. Violet herself doesn't feel cold similarly, thanks to her transformation and the resulting boost to her constitution. However, she did not expect there are other beings resistant to cold the same way as she is. It's yet another flag waving violently in the wind, proclaiming him to be anything but ordinary.
She was more concerned about the complete lack of footprints in the snow around him. The fresh powder lay smooth and undisturbed, even where he stood. If he had walked, run, or driven, there should have been tracks. If he had transformed and shifted back, the snow would have shown some sign of the sudden change in mass.
He just appeared.
"You live in the south side mansion?" He fell into step beside her and asked her, matching her pace perfectly as she started walking toward the house.
Violet was already running through the list of her stepmother's boyfriends' lessons: a person who deliberately showed up with a problem definitely has ulterior motives. The best way to stop their rhythm is not to allow it to continue.
"Yes," Violet answered simply. He seemed to have come here with a plan, so the best way right now is to make him speak his piece.
"Did you know the south side mansion is infamous locally?" he asked conversationally, his golden eyes sparkling with mild amusement.
Violet was just made aware by her brief research, but she shook her head, adopting the confused frown of the nerdy, bookish girl. "Infamous? How so?"
"The legend goes that no one can live here for long," William continued, gazing up at the imposing, dark structure ahead. "It has a very bad reputation, always falling into disrepair. The last three families that rented it left within a month, claiming they felt sick whenever they slept here. The locals say the energy of the land is fighting back against the structure. And the ground itself is not welcoming."
Violet feigned deep thought. "Hmm. Well, the rent was exceptionally cheap." She knew this was a subtle way for William to ask about her own species and powers. Why else would he be here, standing in a cardigan in the snow, mentioning strange land energy?
"I know a little about energy, too," William confessed, his voice dropping slightly. "I saw your solarium. It's built on a nexus, a very interesting spot where various energy lines cross. That old trough in the middle—it was holding the energy down. Now that it's removed, the place… it feels different."
Violet's heart skipped a beat. He was pressing her. He knew about the solarium. He knew about the trough. How?
"You've been inside?" she asked, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice.
William chuckled, a deep, warm sound that wrapped around her like a blanket. "I confess. I was exploring the woods and stumbled upon it. It was completely overgrown and full of clutter. I haven't been inside since you cleaned it up. I'm impressed by the renovation, but even more so by your choice of gardening. The sheer amount of wolfsbane you planted around the perimeter is… intriguing. Are you preparing for a particularly persistent pest problem?"
This was it. The real reason for his visit. She had planted it to repel him, and he was here, openly discussing it, completely unaffected.
Violet forced a small, nervous laugh. "Oh! Wolfsbane? Is that what those are? I just bought whatever seeds looked greenest online. I hear they're great for keeping out pests, though. We had a terrible problem with squirrels at our old place in Rhode Island."
She was lying through her teeth, and William knew it. She knew he knew it. The game was on.
He stopped, turning to face her fully as they reached the start of the driveway. He was inches away, and she had to tilt her head back to look at him through the huge glasses.
"I won't pry into your choice of pest control, Violet Darkwood. But if you were truly interested in an exceptional challenge—and a far better use of that solarium's energy—you should consider Snowbells."
"Snowbells?" she questioned, genuinely confused.
"Yes. They are the most finicky orchids to grow on this side of the land, and they are almost never, if not rarely grow in captivity. They thrive on pure, elemental energy and require specific, isolated conditions, often only found in the Badlands moor. If you could grow those, it would prove the negative energy rumors about this place wrong once and for all."
He was giving her an out, a plausible, civilian reason for her interest in strange plants and secluded locations. He was challenging the dowdy girl to prove herself, which was exactly what the real Violet Darkwood would rise to.
Violet smiled, a small, genuine smile that threatened to crack the mask of her shy persona. She quickly pulled her hood forward to hide the gleam in her eyes.
"You're on, William Wolf," she accepted, the tension in the air snapping into a spark of shared understanding. The nerdy girl was gone, replaced by the competitive wolf.
William's smile was triumphant and utterly mesmerizing. "Good. We'll need to search for them and prepare to transplant them. If you miss this season, you won't be able to find the bulbs in the wild."
He stepped back, the challenge issued and accepted. "How about this weekend?"
Violet froze. Damn it! She had walked straight into his trap. He had an excuse to see her, to spend time with her, and to visit her precious solarium every weekend.
"This weekend?" Violet asked uncomprehendingly.
"Indeed! We'll make it a club outing. A first exploratory mission for Supernatural 101. Just you and me. And maybe a pair of hiking boots." He didn't mention the lack of tracks around him again. He didn't need to. The challenge was its own invitation.
"Let's look for them together," William added, sealing the deal with a look that promised adventure, and perhaps a kiss in the shadow of a fig tree, just like she had once dreamt.
Well played, William Wolf. Well played.
❖✜❖
Full book available on amazon.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0G5FCF6ZJ