Etiquette and Social Dynamics was a class Violet had genuinely been curious about, mostly because she had no clue what it entailed. The title sounded fancy, like something out of a blue-blooded socialite’s handbook.
If she’d had more time—or less chaos dominating her life—she might have taken a moment to look over the curriculum. But considering she’d started school the day after her arrival and had been drowning in drama since, researching class details hadn’t exactly made it onto her priority list.
Violet must have a knack for being late because by the time she pushed open the door and stepped inside, the lesson on manners and social behavior was already in full swing. Violet barely made it two steps into the classroom before she froze, her breath hitching.
Her sudden halt had nothing to do with the teacher, who paused mid-sentence and turned to regard her with a raised brow. No, Violet’s paralysis came from the unexpected sight of him.
Asher Nightshade.
And not just him, all the cardinal alphas were here.
Her stomach plummeted as her eyes darted to the corner of the room, where the four most infamous and powerful students at Lunaris Academy were seated. They exuded an effortless dominance that made the rest of the classroom fade into the background.
Relaxed yet undeniably commanding, their presence alone shifted the energy in the room. Together, all four of them were a wall of charisma, power, and danger, a combination that put everyone on edge, whether they realized it or not.
Her pulse quickened as she realized all four pairs of colored eyes—amber, emerald, electric blue, and smoky gray—had turned their full attention on her. It was like a predator locking onto its prey, and she was standing in the open, vulnerable and unarmed.
Why the hell were they all here? Violet thought, her pulse quickening.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the cardinal alphas rarely occupied the same space unless there was some purpose behind it. They sitting together like some elite council of chaos, was anything but comforting.
They weren’t the best of friends by any stretch, only tolerating each other when it suited their individual agendas. If they were gathered like this, it could only mean trouble. And judging by the way all four of them were focused on her, she had the sinking feeling that trouble might involve her.
"Miss Violet, I assume?" the teacher’s voice broke through her thoughts, snapping Violet back to the present like a slap of icy water.
Violet’s head shot up, her golden eyes meeting the teacher’s eager gaze.
"Yes, ma?" she responded, unsure and already feeling the knots in her stomach tighten.
"Good," the woman said, sounding definitive, if not almost gleeful. "We have been waiting for you for so long, and I’m so glad you’re finally here."
"We?" Violet asked, her voice faltering as she swallowed hard. "I don’t understand."
The teacher, Mrs. Clarkson, placed her sleek tablet onto her desk with an air of finality, her polished heels clicking against the floor as she approached. "You have not been scented, Violet, and that is a requirement for this class, in case you haven’t noticed."
The breath hitched in Violet’s chest, her pulse quickening. She struggled to keep her expression neutral, but her nervousness betrayed her unease as she stuttered, "S—scented? I um... don’t understand what you mean by that."
"It’s nothing to be afraid of, Violet Purple," Mrs. Clarkson said with an almost maternal smile that did nothing to settle Violet’s nerves. "It’s something every human in here has gone through, and no one was harmed. Trust me, it’s for your own safety and good."
At her words, a ripple of anticipation coursed through the room. The atmosphere shifted with thick tension. Students exchanged knowing glances, some barely stifling their laughter while others wore grins that sent a chill down Violet’s spine.
Her anxiety climbed higher as her golden eyes darted around the room. What did they mean by "scented"? She knew werewolves had lots of unique customs but she had no idea what being "scented" entailed.
When her gaze landed on Lila, her so-called friend, Violet saw her quickly avert her eyes, guilt written all over her face. Of course. Conveniently forgetting to mention this little tidbit, huh, Lila?
Violet had a lot of thought going through her head as she searched for an escape plan, but Mrs. Clarkson’s next words sealed her fate.
"Since the situation calls for it, let’s take this outside, shall we?" the teacher announced.
Before Violet could even protest, the students burst into motion, eager and electric with excitement. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor and eager whispers filled the room, drowning out Violet’s growing panic. Her heart began to pound wildly, each beat echoing in her ears like a drum.
"Come along now, little one," Mrs. Clarkson said, her grip firm as she grabbed Violet’s arm and began to steer her toward the door, ignoring any attempt at resistance.
Violet stumbled after her, half-dragged, half-walking, as they exited the classroom and spilled into the sprawling lawn. The open space was vast, lush, and deceptively peaceful. But the energy crackling in the air made it feel like she was stepping onto a battlefield.
The students quickly formed a loose circle around her, their faces alight with anticipation. Violet’s gaze darted from one face to another, her unease growing with every knowing smirk and glint of mischief she caught. She was surrounded, encased in a wall of predatory excitement that made her stomach churn. What exactly did they plan to do to her?
Mrs. Clarkson’s voice rang out cheerfully, breaking the tense silence. "All right, everyone, let’s proceed. I’ll be handing over to the wolves, you all know what to do, right?"
Wait, what?!
Oh God, not again.
Violet’s heart nearly gave out at that moment. And just as she had feared, all four of the Cardinal Alphas had stepped forward. Not just them, the other wolves seem to follow after them.
"Are you ready, my purple queen?"