"Then, how about this weekend?" William asked her.
"This weekend?" Violet asked uncomprehendingly.
"Indeed! We need to search for snow bells and prepare to transplant them? If you miss this season, you won't be able to find the bulbs in the wild." William tacked on.
"Let's look for them together." William added.
Dang it! She placed herself in his trap. Now, she could not say no to going out with him every weekend! And he will have an excuse to come to her solarium every weekend! Damn it! Well played! William wolf. But you will not have the last laugh...
The Weight of the Invitation
Violet held the 'Dowdy NewGirl' pose for a moment longer, tilting her head and pushing her oversized glasses up her nose with a careful, hesitant finger. Internally, a primal, celebratory howl was trying to escape her chest, but she had to keep the lid on the cauldron.
He wants me. He wants access. He wants to know what I am.
His casualness was a meticulously constructed veneer. The "let's look for them together" wasn't a friendly suggestion; it was an ultimatum wrapped in silk. If she refused, she risked making her nerdy alter-ego look suspicious or—worse—uninterested in his attention, which would break the carefully constructed persona of the awkward admirer. If she accepted, she was willingly walking into a secluded trip with a powerful werewolf who already had a terrifying, near-fatal, magical connection to her other self.
"Oh," she whispered, managing to make the sound appropriately nervous and thrilled. "That's... that's very kind of you, William. I mean, I'm just the new science girl, and you're… well, you're William. I wouldn't want to take up your whole Saturday."
William's smile, which hadn't faded since he arrived, deepened. His eyes caught the last rays of the descending sun, flashing a deep, knowing gold that the dowdy girl was not meant to notice.
"Nonsense, Violet Darkwood. I made the challenge, I'll supply the expertise and the transportation. Besides," he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a seductive baritone that sent a tremor through her, "I was looking forward to seeing what other... unique garden fixtures you might have in that solarium of yours."
He was baiting her, testing her reaction to his thinly veiled reference to the other night—the night of the kiss at the lake. He was practically shouting, I know you were there, I just don't know who you are now.
Violet met his gaze for a split second, then deliberately broke it, blushing fiercely. This reaction—her shame and awe at his proximity—was the key to her disguise.
"Oh! The... the trough? I cleaned it all up! I found a little… a secret hidden path underneath! It was all broken, but I've been trying to fix it. It's a lot of work, but I like the challenge," she stammered, offering a carefully selected half-truth about the Narnia entrance. She was giving him a plausible, non-magical explanation for her strong reaction and interest in the place, feeding the "eccentric plant-loving nerd" persona.
"A secret path," William echoed, his interest piqued. "Fascinating. Well, consider the snowbell hunt a reward for all your hard work. Saturday morning, 8 AM? I'll pick you up here. Bring warm gear. We'll be going deep into the Blackwoods territory, near the Badlands."
Violet nodded quickly, unable to speak, overwhelmed by a sudden, manufactured nervousness. William gave a final, polite nod, the corner of his lips twitching as if holding back a laugh, and then turned to walk away.
She watched him go. Just like before, there were no discernible tracks in the undisturbed snow. He simply glided, leaving no trace of his passage. As he disappeared around the bend of the road, Violet finally let the facade melt. She dropped her bag, peeled off her glasses, and the thrill of the hunt, the pure wolfish excitement, coursed through her veins.
"Blackwoods, near the Badlands," she murmured, the words tasting like danger and ozone. "You think you're so smart, William Wolf. You think you're taking the little lamb for a walk. But you have no idea what kind of vixen you've invited out to play."
The Vixen's Strategy Session
The moment Violet stepped into the comforting, warm silence of the south side mansion, the gloves came off. She was no longer Violet Darkwood, the awkward new transfer student. She was the creature that had almost drained an Alpha Wolf to the point of collapse with a single kiss. She was the entity that could shrug off the mystical power of William's gaze.
She marched directly to the solarium. The space, now half-repaired and half-wild, was her laboratory and her sanctuary. She grabbed her laptop and started researching the Blackwoods and Snowbells with a focused intensity that would have made her honors class professors weep with joy.
The Blackwoods and Badlands Territory
The local legends confirmed what William implied: Blackwoods was a difficult, densely packed forest area bordering the Badlands National Park. The transition zone was treacherous—it was known for sudden, dramatic weather changes, deep ravines, and confusing, radar-blind terrain. It was exactly the kind of place a werewolf would choose for a discreet romantic outing, far from prying eyes.
He's taking me somewhere he can transform without being seen, and where he can test my strength. He thinks I'm the mate who's somehow suppressing her own power, a dormant wolf he needs to 'awaken.'
The thought made her snort. He had no idea she was already awake and operating on an entirely different spectrum of supernatural power. The thought of their long trip together, the inevitable proximity, and the delicious danger of it all made her toes curl. It was a perfect trap, but she would be the one springing it.
The Snowbell Imperative
The Snowbell (a local variant of Galanthus nivalis known as the "Winter's Tear") was notoriously difficult. It required very specific, mineral-rich soil, a perfect blend of shade and sun, and often grew near underground water sources—the exact conditions William would need to justify a deep-woods hike.
Violet cross-referenced the growing conditions with known supernatural lore.
Snowbells were often planted by ancient witch covens as a warding flower. They were mildly toxic to most supernatural creatures, including werewolves, causing severe headaches and confusion if ingested or inhaled in high concentrations.More importantly, the rare Shadow Snowbell—the one William was likely seeking—was rumored to bloom only under a sliver of the new moon and was a key component in certain high-level glamour-breaking potions.
If he is looking for a glamour-breaker, he's planning to use it on me. He wants to know what's underneath the glasses and the gray hoodie.
Violet smiled. Two could play that game. She didn't need a glamour-breaker, but she needed to make sure her Dowdy NewGirl persona was so deeply ingrained that even magic couldn't penetrate the sheer commitment to the role. She spent the next hour practicing her limp, her nervous twitch, and her exaggerated eye contact avoidance in the mirror.
The Problem of Scent and Scrutiny
This was the hardest part of the plan. When they were out hiking, how would she keep the 'Angel' scent separate from the 'Violet' scent?
Scent Masking: Violet would need to wear at least three layers of heavy, pungent, and distinctly synthetic perfumes and creams that the Dowdy Girl would plausibly wear (cheap floral body spray, strong camphor muscle rub for the "clumsy" girl). This was crucial to confuse William's heightened senses.The Clothing Trap: She needed to wear clothes so heavily treated with chemicals and synthetic fibers that they would actively repel natural forest scents, preventing her from picking up any meaningful scent cues from the environment.The Transformation Plan: If a threat arose, or if William tried to force a confrontation, she needed a way to transform and disappear instantly, without leaving her Dowdy Girl clothing behind. She couldn't risk him finding her expensive Under Armour gear abandoned in the woods.
A distraction. A calculated stumble near a cliff edge, an intentionally clumsy slip into an icy stream...
She decided on a combination of intentional clumsiness. If she went into the water, the shock would provide a brief moment of cover, during which she could transform and vanish, leaving the clothes floating. It was messy, but effective.
She concluded her research, feeling a deep, almost spiritual connection to the forest map spread out before her. This wasn't just a date; it was reconnaissance into the territory of her mate, an Alpha who was clearly accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. The more she planned, the more she realized that William was approaching this like a highly trained predator, and she needed to be a smarter, more elusive prey.
The Wolfsbane Deception
Violet walked out of the solarium and headed to the greenhouse attached to the back of the mansion, where she kept all her gardening supplies. She had ordered a substantial amount of wolfsbane seeds and plants initially, intending to ring her entire property with the toxic, werewolf-repelling flower.
Now, after William's reaction—or lack thereof—to the supposed concentration of wolfsbane in the soil near the house, she had a choice to make. Did she keep it?
He knew the mansion was infamous. He knew the grounds were historically problematic. Yet, he strolled right in wearing a cardigan. Either he is immune, or he has an antidote, or the threat of wolfsbane is largely overblown.
She decided to play a long game. She would plant the wolfsbane after all, but not as a barrier. She would plant it prominently, right next to the walkway to the solarium, next to the Wolf's Bane (another common name for Aconitum). She would make it a visual and psychological barrier.
If William ever came back uninvited, she wanted the conversation to go: "Oh, didn't you notice the wolfsbane? I planted it to ward off wild animals. It's so pretty, isn't it?" It would be a subtle, almost playful warning: I know what you are, and I have defenses.
She spent the next hour meticulously transplanting the small, poisonous plants, wearing heavy gloves and feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. It was like setting tripwires for a gorgeous, predatory guest.
Wynona's Silent Approval
When Violet entered the kitchen, she found her stepmother, Wynona, sipping wine and staring blankly at the snow outside. Wynona was a master of passive observation, and Violet knew the moment William arrived, Wynona had been watching from behind the curtains.
"Well?" Violet asked, pulling out a yogurt and granola bar.
Wynona didn't move her gaze from the window. "He's polite. And handsome. Far too handsome for a girl in a gray blob costume."
"It's a disguise, Mom. You know this."
"I know a fool when I see one, Violet. He didn't come to talk about gardening. He came to confirm his suspicions. Did you confirm them?" Wynona finally turned, her eyes clear and unblinking.
Violet tried to be nonchalant. "I was awkward, blushy, and stammered about my clean trough and a secret path. I was the perfect, pitiful admirer. He left convinced he's either my soulmate or my prey, and he'll figure out which one this weekend."
Wynona sighed, a low, weary sound. "A date in the Blackwoods. That's a move straight out of the Alpha's handbook. It's remote, it's cold, and it provides cover for a full transformation. He'll push you to shift."
Violet leaned against the counter, suddenly serious. "And I won't. I'm not shifting for him, Mom. I only shift when I'm out of control, or when I choose to. I've never chosen it before. I'll make sure I don't lose control. Besides, if he tries anything, I'll drain him dry again."
"You won't," Wynona stated flatly. "The next time you try to kiss him, you'll be doing it because you want to. That connection is not an accident, Violet. You are two pieces of a very volatile puzzle. If you push him too hard, he might not die—he might just lose control of his own beast. And a mature Alpha, out of control, in the Blackwoods? That's not a fight you want to be in, even with your... gifts."
Wynona pushed a heavy, leather-bound book across the table. It was ancient and smelled of herbs and dust.
"What's this?"
"It's a guide to the old world's rules. The wolves' territory is sacred. The Blackwoods is where the Winter Moon Clan holds their rites. If he takes you there, he's serious. It's not a park—it's a hallowed ground. If you take anything from there, you must leave an offering. And if you enter the Badlands Canyons, the rules change entirely. It's too vast, too wild. You will need a way to communicate."
Violet flipped open the book. The script was archaic, full of flowing lines and drawings of moons and wolves. It looked like something out of a fantasy novel, yet the weight in her hands felt real.
"What kind of offering?" Violet asked, her voice hushed.
"A sacrifice of blood or intent. Something that costs you. The ground demands respect, even from the Winter Wolf Prince. You're going to need a strong enough reason to trespass on his family's sacred hunting grounds. And you're going to need a way to track him if he decides to run ahead."
Wynona stood up, picking up her wine glass. "I have a shift tonight. Be careful, Violet. This isn't one of Stan's idiots trying to cop a feel. This is a game of power between two people who shouldn't exist, and the stakes are much higher than just a bad breakup."
Violet watched her stepmother leave, then opened the ancient book to a page detailing survival in the Badlands. The sheer volume of tactical information about the area confirmed Wynona's warning. This wasn't a spontaneous trip; it was a test.
The Weekend is Coming
The remainder of the week was a meticulous dance. Violet kept up her performance at school, maintaining the Dowdy NewGirl persona. She sat next to William in Honors English, dropping her pen twice and blushing when he smoothly retrieved it, ensuring the rest of the class saw the familiar, awkward tension between the unattainable popular boy and the clumsy transfer student.
Ken Castelli was watching. He sat two rows behind them, observing their interactions with a cold, analytical intensity that Violet felt like a physical chill down her spine. If William was a predator, Ken was a lurking shadow, a rival threat that made the game infinitely more dangerous. His eyes never flashed red again, but the undercurrent of calculated malice was always present.
At home, Violet spent her time in the solarium, refining her plan. She packed a small, discrete bag with survival essentials, including a tiny first-aid kit, a high-powered flashlight, and, most importantly, a small, silver locket she'd inherited from her biological mother (a fact she'd only recently deduced).
The locket felt strangely warm against her skin, a tether to the power she didn't yet understand. She placed it inside the thick, synthetic pocket of the "Dowdy Girl's" snow pants. If William's senses were as sharp as Wynona suggested, he might pick up the scent of silver—another subtle warning to a werewolf.
She also took careful measurements of her two favorite, tight-fitting jeans. She planned to wear them under the thick, baggy corduroys.
Layer one: Dowdy NewGirl (oversized, synthetic, clumsy).Layer two: Wolf Suit (athletic, warm, easily discarded if she needed to go full beast).
She even managed to slip in a final piece of intelligence into her conversation with William on Friday.
"I was reading about the Blackwoods, William," she said during a quick walk to the parking lot, her eyes wide with feigned scholarly concern. "It sounds so remote. Do you think we should bring something to track our movements? Like, maybe a handheld GPS or a beacon? Just in case the weather changes?"
William stopped, his expression unreadable for a moment. He hadn't expected the dowdy girl to be so thorough in her preparation. He looked at the vast, snowy expanse outside the window.
"That won't be necessary, Violet. I know the Blackwoods like the back of my hand. No amount of snow can make me lose my way." He gave her a confident, charming smile that was meant to be reassuring. "Just trust me. I'm your guide this weekend."
Liar. He had just confirmed it wasn't a simple hike. He didn't want a tracker. He wanted isolation.
Violet smiled back, her eyes twinkling behind the thick lenses. "Oh, okay, William! If you say so! I just worry about getting lost in the wild. I'm a city girl, after all."
But as she walked away, the wolf in her whispered, I trust you, Alpha. I trust you to try to take control. But you'll be sorely disappointed when you find out I'm the one who sets the path.
The scent of danger hung in the air, a heady perfume that promised a fight, a chase, and perhaps, another kiss. The weekend couldn't come fast enough.
Preparation: The Art of Disguise
Violet spent Friday night arranging her hiking gear. She needed to look prepared but utterly incapable of surviving a rugged hike.
Item
Dowdy NewGirl Purpose
True Purpose
Oversized Glasses
To look studious and clumsy.
To deflect eye contact and hide the subtle golden flash of her eyes.
Synthetic Perfume
To mask her natural scent with cheap floral notes.
To actively confuse William's werewolf senses.
Three Layers of Tights
To look overly cautious and afraid of the cold.
To provide insulation and an outer layer to discard quickly if she transformed into the wolf.
Thick Corduroy Coat
To look shapeless and unappealing.
To provide bulk and easily cover the athletic gear underneath.
Silver Locket
Not visible—just a strange locket.
A tactical piece of silver to test William's sensitivity and provide a subtle, non-verbal threat.
Old Map
A piece of paper to consult nervously.
A detailed, cross-referenced map of all the ravines and hidden tunnels near the Badlands edge.
Violet looked at her reflection. The girl staring back was an uncoordinated mess, completely unthreatening. The perfect disguise. William was about to find out that underneath the gray blob was a powerful, calculating vixen ready to run him ragged across his own sacred territory.
She set her internal alarm for 6 AM, ensuring she'd have two hours to run, stretch, and get the primal urges out of her system before William arrived. She needed to meet him calm, collected, and completely ready to lie her way through the entire trip.
Do you have any thoughts on the specific tone or challenge you'd like to see William present to Violet during their trip into the Blackwoods next? Perhaps a physical test or a riddle?