"Thank the lord the rain has stopped." Ivy remarked, gazing out the window.
Violet turned her head toward the window, gnawing the inside of her cheek as she stared at the gloomy aftermath.
The sky was still an angry gray, thick clouds rolling sluggishly, but at least the relentless downpour had ceased. Puddles lined the roads, with mist curling at the edges of the trees, and the scent of wet earth clung to the air like a ghost.
Throughout the weekend, Violet had tried reaching Alaric so that she could explain herself over her recent actions but his phone remained off, unreachable.
It left her with nothing but an anxious restlessness to the point she had even considered throwing caution to the wind and going to his house or lab, bracing for whatever punishment might follow. But then, she remembered the deal with Roman.
The deal was clear as day. No unnecessary attention. He expected her to keep a low profile. Unfortunately, showing up without special invitation at the North House would undoubtedly make a scene and violate the agreement.
So Violet had swallowed the urge, just like she had swallowed Daisy’s frustration over making a deal without consulting them.
But even the hot-tempered Daisy, had relented after considering the facts. Revenge against Elsie was sweet, except none of them had the kind of protection she did. All thanks to a certain Alpha.
If Elsie couldn’t retaliate against her, she would go after them. And despite Violet’s bravado, she wasn’t sure she could protect them all.
So far, the truce had held. Elsie had kept up her end, though "mostly" was the best way to put it since she and her friends had done most of the work.
They had avoided the cafeteria since Sunday, sticking to fruit that Lila had secretly grown with her magic in their backyard. Lila had summoned an entire apple tree from the ground, only to wither it once they had gathered their fill.
They couldn’t leave the apple and many other trees she had grown to survive and draw attention. Lila had made it clear that her identity was to kept secret by all means. A warning she also ingrained into Daisy and Ivy’s head till it was almost a mantra.
Unfortunately, fruit could only get them so far and Violet was beginning to crave a proper meal. Yet, for the sake of keeping the peace—and to avoid the inevitable confrontations—she and her roommates stuck to fruit this morning, then during lunch later today, gather as much food that would last them through the night.
Deep down inside of her, Violet knew this so-called truce would not last. She knew girls like Elsie. When they marked you, they didn’t just want you to fall. They wanted you destroyed. They wanted you beneath their feet forever, crushed and humiliated until you had no will to rise again.
But if this war was going to restart, it wouldn’t be from her. Violet wanted to at least say she’d tried for peace, so that if she ever retaliated, she would do so without an ounce of mercy.
Violet turned to the girls. "We’re leaving together, right?" Since dragging them into this rogue mess, it was safe to say she had taken responsibility for them.
"Yes, I have Werewolf Anthropology and Culture," Ivy chirped.
Daisy rolled her eyes. "Ivy, everyone here has Werewolf Anthropology and Culture," she pointed out dryly.
Not missing a beat, Ivy shrugged. "All the more reason to hurry."
Gathering their belongings, the girls set off from their shack on foot, the boots they had gone for squishing against the damp ground. Though the rain had finally ended, the air remained clammy, and the earth was slick and moldy.
With time on their side, they walked slowly, engaging in funny conversation that lightened their trek and intentionally avoiding talking about whatever awaited them at school today.
The further they went, the busier the roads became with students heading toward the school ground, some in small groups, some alone, and the elites ones in their cars, but all stealing glances at them.
They whispered as usual, and Violet could feel their gazes sliding over her and her girls, assessing, questioning, and dissecting. But that was all they did. No one stepped forward to start trouble, which probably meant Elsie was keeping her part of the bargain. But the question was: how long would that last?
Werewolf Anthropology and Culture was
one of the mandatory classes for all students at Lunaris. And of course, it was taught by Mr. Radcliff, the racist prick, as they not-so-secretly labeled him.
Violet and her girls entered, only for the air to feel instantly heavier and it took one glance to understand why.
The classroom had been rearranged. No longer were the packs scattered amongst each other, sitting where they pleased. No, the students were now rigidly separated by pack affiliation. The West House and South House especially sat far away from each other.
Even the North and East House who has no beef with each other were forced to separate as well. Hence the sitting arrangement was South, East, West and North.
Principal Jameson clearly wasn’t taking chances after Saturday’s disaster. Keeping the packs divided was a preemptive strike to prevent another conflict.
However, it was not just the houses, the rogues were affected too and Violet could see four untouched and isolated seats at the very back of the classroom.
Violet snorted, if they thought the seating arrangements was going to offend her, then they were delusional. Whether this was Elsie’s or Jameson’s doing, she didn’t care. At least in this spot, Violet could see everything happening in the class — and perhaps sleep in peace if the lecture gets boring.
Under their watchful eyes, Violet strode toward her seat, shoulders squared, and her chin lifted high.
Lila followed her. Daisy followed Lila. And Ivy after Daisy. One at a time, the Four rogue girls, moved through a sea of wolves, and humans with an indifferent swag.
Violet smirked. Being different was sexy.