Chapter 16 The Autumn Social (Vivienne POV)
"Absolutely not," I tell Sophie for the third time that afternoon.
"Come on, Vivienne. You've been buried in research for days. You need a break." She holds up two dresses, one burgundy, one midnight blue. "Besides, everyone's going. It'll look weird if you skip."
"I don't care if it looks weird."
"Well, I do. And I need my roommate there for moral support because I'm finally going to talk to that cute boy from my maths class." She gives me her best pleading look. "Please? Just for an hour. If you're miserable, we can leave."
I sigh, looking at the dresses. The truth is, I've been avoiding social situations since the library kiss. Half the school saw it through those windows, and the gossip has been relentless. Vivienne Ashford and Declan Hartley. The new girl and the football captain. Questions I can't answer and attention I don't want.
But Sophie's been patient with my strange behavior, my late-night research sessions, my increasingly odd eating habits. The least I can do is attend one school dance.
"Fine. One hour. Then we leave."
Sophie squeals, shoving the midnight blue dress into my hands. "You won't regret this!"
The Great Hall has been transformed for the autumn social. Fairy lights strung across the ceiling, tables pushed to the edges, a DJ set up near the far wall. Students cluster in groups, laughing and dancing, the bass vibrating through the stone floor.
I feel exposed immediately.
"See? This is fun!" Sophie shouts over the music, already swaying to the beat.
"Thrilling," I mutter, scanning the room for exits.
And then I see him.
Declan stands in the shadows near the entrance to the corridor, partially hidden by a stone pillar. He's dressed more formally than usual…dark trousers, a fitted shirt…but it's the way he's watching that makes my breath catch. His attention is locked on me with an intensity that feels almost physical.
"Vivienne?" A voice to my left makes me turn. Marcus Whitmore, the Year 12 cricket captain, stands there with a nervous smile. "I didn't expect to see you here. You look... really nice."
"Thanks. Sophie convinced me to come."
"Right, Sophie. Of course." He shifts his weight. "Listen, I know this might be forward, but would you want to dance? Just one song?"
I should say no. Should invent an excuse. But refusing would be rude, and Marcus has always been friendly in the few interactions we've had.
"Sure. One dance."
Relief washes over his face. "Great! That's…yeah, great."
He leads me toward the center of the floor where other couples are dancing to an upbeat pop song. Marcus is a decent dancer, moving with the easy confidence of someone comfortable in his own skin. He tries to make conversation over the music, asking about my classes, how I'm adjusting to Blackthorn.
But I can barely focus on his words.
Because I can feel Declan watching. Can sense his presence like a magnetic pull. Every instinct I have wants to look for him, to make eye contact across the crowded room.
"So what do you think?" Marcus asks, and I realize I've completely missed his question.
"Sorry, what?"
"About the chemistry assignment. Due Monday?"
"Oh. Right. Haven't started it yet."
"Me neither. Maybe we could work on it together? The library tomorrow afternoon?"
Before I can answer, the music shifts to a slower song. Couples around us move closer, and Marcus tentatively places his hands on my waist.
"This okay?" he asks.
"It's fine."
But it's not fine. Having his hands on me feels wrong somehow. Not threatening or uncomfortable exactly, just... incorrect. Like wearing clothes that don't fit properly.
I glance toward the shadows where Declan was standing, and my heart stops.
He's moving toward us.
Not quickly, but with purpose. His expression is controlled, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands are clenched into fists. Students instinctively step aside as he crosses the dance floor, creating a path without consciously realizing they're doing it.
Marcus doesn't notice. He's saying something about cricket practice, oblivious to the approaching storm.
Then Declan is there, right beside us, and the temperature seems to drop several degrees.
"Mind if I cut in?" His voice is polite, but there's an edge underneath that makes it clear this isn't really a question. Marcus blinks, confused. "Oh. Um. Vivienne, is that…"
"It's fine," I say quickly, stepping back from Marcus. "Thank you for the dance."
Marcus looks between us, finally noticing the way Declan is looking at me. "Right. Yeah. Sure. I'll just..." He backs away, disappearing into the crowd.
Declan takes his place without hesitation, one hand finding my waist, the other taking my hand. His touch is nothing like Marcus's. This feels right. Natural. Like pieces clicking into place.
"Hi," I say, my voice barely audible over the music.
"Hi."
We start moving to the slow song, and the world narrows to just us. Declan's hand is warm through the thin fabric of my dress. His grey eyes are darker than usual, pupils dilated despite the bright lights.
"You're tense," I observe.
"You were dancing with someone else."
"Marcus asked. I was being polite."
"I know." His jaw tightens. "Doesn't make it easier to watch."
"You were watching?"
"I've been watching you since you walked in." His hand flexes slightly on my waist. "That dress is dangerous, by the way. Half the school can't stop staring."
Heat floods my cheeks. "Sophie chose it."
"Remind me to thank her. Or kill her. I haven't decided yet."
Despite everything, I laugh. "Jealous, Declan?"
"Devastatingly." He pulls me slightly closer, and I feel his heart racing beneath his shirt. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch other people touch you?"
"You're touching me right now."
"That's different. You're mine."
The possessiveness in his voice should bother me. Instead, it makes something primal in my chest purr with satisfaction.
"Yours?" I tease, even as I lean into him.
"Yes. Mine. And I know that's caveman and ridiculous and you should probably be offended, but…" He stops, jaw working. "I can't help it. My wolf sees you with someone else and loses his mind."
"Good thing I don't want anyone else, then."
Declan's hand tightens on my waist. "Don't say things like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because it makes me want to claim you properly. Right here, in front of everyone. And that would be spectacularly bad timing."
My pulse quickens. "Eight days until the full moon."
"I know. I'm counting." His eyes flash amber for just a moment. "How's the research going? Find anything else about the Silvermanes?"
"Not much beyond what I already told you. The family just... vanished. Except for my mother." I hesitate. "I'm going to confront Father. Ask him directly about her family."
Declan's expression darkens. "When?"
"Soon. I need to prepare first. Figure out how to approach it without him realizing how much I know."
"Vivienne, he's dangerous. Especially if he thinks he's losing control over you."
"I know. But I deserve answers." I look up at him. "Will you be nearby? Just in case?"
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."
The song shifts to something slightly faster, but neither of us adjusts our pace. We continue swaying slowly, creating our own rhythm.
"People are staring," I observe, noticing the other students watching us with varied expressions…curiosity, envy, confusion.
"Let them stare."
"Declan…"
"You shouldn't be around me," he says quietly, contradicting himself even as his arm tightens around my waist. "I'm dangerous. Your father is hunting me. Being close to me puts you at risk."
"I don't care about the risk."
"You should. Because in eight days, you're going to transform. And when you do, Edmund is going to realize he's completely lost control. He'll do something desperate."
"Then we'll deal with it together."
"Together," he repeats, like he's testing the word. "I like the sound of that."
"Me too."
We're barely moving now, just swaying in place while the music pulses around us. Other couples have started giving us space, creating a small bubble around us on the dance floor. It's like they can sense something different about us, something that makes them instinctively keep their distance.
"Your scent is changing," Declan murmurs, his lips close to my ear. "Getting stronger. More... wolfish."
"Is that bad?"
"No. It's perfect. You smell like home and mate and mine all mixed together." His breath is warm against my skin. "But it also means the suppression is breaking down faster than we anticipated. Edmund will notice soon if he hasn't already."
"Let him notice. I'm done hiding."
Declan pulls back slightly to look at me, his grey eyes searching mine. "You're incredible, you know that? Most people would be terrified. But you're facing all of this…the awakening, the transformation, your father's betrayal…with courage I've never seen."
"I'm terrified," I admit. "But I'm also... excited? Is that wrong?"
"No. It means your wolf is ready. She's been sleeping for seventeen years, and she's eager to finally be free."
The way he says 'she'…like my wolf is a separate entity…should feel strange. Instead, it makes perfect sense. Because I can feel her now, that presence just beneath my skin. Getting stronger. More insistent.
"Declan?" A voice interrupts from behind him. Callum stands at the edge of the dance floor, his expression apologetic. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need you. Pack business."
Declan's jaw tightens, but he nods. "Give me five minutes."
"It's urgent."
"Five. Minutes."
Callum holds up his hands in surrender and retreats.
"I should go," Declan says, but he doesn't release me.
"What's wrong?"
"Probably nothing. Pack politics. Territory concerns." He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture tender. "Will you be alright getting back to your room?"
"Sophie's here. I'll be fine."
"Text me when you're safely in Thornfield House. And Vivienne?" His expression turns serious. "When you confront Edmund, don't go alone. Take Freya or Sophie or call me. Promise."
"I promise."
He studies my face like he's memorizing it, then releases me with obvious reluctance. "Eight days. Then you're pack. Then no one…not Edmund, not hunters, not anyone…can touch you."
He walks away, and I feel his absence like a physical ache.
Sophie appears at my elbow almost immediately, her eyes wide. "Oh my God. That was the most intense thing I've ever witnessed. The way he looks at you, Vivienne. Like you're the only person in the entire world."
"It's complicated."
"Everything about you two is complicated. But also..." She grins. "Incredibly romantic. Even if he is slightly terrifying."
"He's not terrifying."
"He absolutely is. Marcus looked like he was about to pass out when Declan cut in." She loops her arm through mine. "Come on. I got what I needed from tonight, watched you have your fairy-tale dance moment. We can go if you want."
We head toward the exit, passing clusters of students who watch us with open curiosity. I hear whispers as we pass…Declan and Vivienne, the library kiss, the football captain, the new girl.
"Do they ever talk about anything else?" I mutter.
"You're the most interesting thing to happen at Blackthorn in years. Of course they talk." Sophie squeezes my arm. "But for what it's worth, I think you two are perfect together. Even if there's definitely something weird going on that you're not telling me about."
"Sophie…"
"It's fine. I don't need to know everything. I just need to know you're okay. Are you okay?"
I think about the question seriously. Am I okay? My father is a murderer. I'm transforming into a werewolf. My entire life has been a carefully constructed lie. I'm falling for a boy whose father was killed by mine.
But I'm also finally understanding who I am. What I'm meant to be. And I have people, Declan, Sophie, Freya, even the pack…who are willing to help me through it.
"Yeah," I say honestly. "I think I am."
We step outside into the cool October night. The moon is waxing gibbous, nearly full. Eight more days until it reaches its peak. Eight more days until everything changes.
My mobile buzzes. A text from Declan: Thank you for the dance. You looked beautiful tonight. - D
I smile, typing back: Thank you for cutting in. Marcus is nice, but he's not you.
No one else better be me. Eight days, Vivienne. Then you're officially mine.
I'm already yours. The full moon just makes it official.
There's a long pause before his response: Careful. Comments like that make my wolf very possessive. And very impatient.
Good. I like him possessive.
You're going to be the death of me.
Or the life of you. Haven't decided yet.
Another pause. Then: Definitely the life. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we start your real training.
What kind of training?
The kind that prepares you for the most painful and wonderful experience of your life. Trust me. You'll need your rest.
I pocket my phone as Sophie and I reach Thornfield House. In our room, I change out of the midnight blue dress and into comfortable pajamas. Sophie chatters about her successful conversation with the maths boy, apparently his name is James and he asked for her number.
But my mind is elsewhere. On Declan's arms around me. On the way other students instinctively gave us space. On the amber flash in his eyes when his control slipped.
On eight days and counting.
I climb into bed and close my eyes, but sleep is a long time coming. Because tomorrow, training begins. Tomorrow, I start learning how to be what I was always meant to be.
And somewhere in the darkness, my wolf stirs. Eager. Ready.
Waiting for the moon to rise.