Chapter 20 Confronting the Changes (Vivienne POV)
The smell hits me the moment I enter the biology lab Tuesday morning…sharp, chemical, overwhelming.
I stop in the doorway, hand covering my nose and mouth. "What is that?"
"What's what?" Sophie asks from behind me, pushing past. "Come on, we're going to be late."
But I can barely move. The smell is everywhere, coating my throat, making my eyes water. It's coming from the storage room three doors down, formaldehyde in sealed containers that shouldn't be detectable from this distance.
"Miss Ashford?" Dr. Reynolds looks up from her desk. "Is there a problem?"
"The formaldehyde. It's so strong."
She frowns. "We're not using formaldehyde today. That's stored in the prep room, which is sealed. You shouldn't be able to smell anything."
"But I can. It's…" I stop, realizing how this sounds. "Never mind. I'm fine."
Sophie guides me to our usual lab table, concern written across her face. "Are you feeling alright? You've been acting strange all week."
"Just tired."
"You're always tired lately. And you barely eat. And you keep spacing out like you're listening to something no one else can hear." She lowers her voice. "Vivienne, I'm worried about you."
"I'm okay. I promise."
But I'm not okay. The formaldehyde smell doesn't fade as class progresses…if anything, it gets stronger. I can distinguish individual chemicals now: the formaldehyde, yes, but also ethanol, acetone, hydrochloric acid. Each container in that sealed prep room might as well be open on my desk.
Dr. Reynolds is explaining cellular respiration, but I'm barely listening. My attention keeps snagging on sounds that shouldn't be audible…a tap dripping in the girls' toilets, footsteps in the corridor two floors above, someone's mobile vibrating in their bag across the room.
"Vivienne." Sophie nudges me. "She asked you a question."
I blink, focusing on Dr. Reynolds. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you could explain the role of mitochondria in ATP production."
The answer comes automatically, pulled from memory. "Mitochondria are the powerhouses of the cell. They use oxygen to break down glucose in a process called cellular respiration, producing ATP, adenosine triphosphate, which provides energy for cellular functions."
"Correct. Thank you." Dr. Reynolds turns back to the board, and I exhale in relief.
"You weren't even paying attention," Sophie whispers. "How did you know that?"
"Lucky guess."
But it wasn't luck. The information was just... there. Clear and accessible in a way it wasn't before. Like my brain is processing faster, making connections more easily.
Everything is more. More sensitive. More intense. More overwhelming.
By the time class ends, I'm desperate for fresh air. I practically run to the courtyard, gulping down oxygen that tastes too rich, too full of information…car exhaust, someone's perfume, bread baking in the dining hall kitchens.
"Vivienne!" Freya appears at my elbow. "Come with me. Now."
She doesn't wait for agreement, just grabs my arm and pulls me toward the old chapel. Once we're inside, she turns to face me.
"You're broadcasting," she says bluntly.
"Broadcasting what?"
"Supernatural energy. It's pouring off you in waves. Anyone with even a hint of sensitivity can feel it." She crosses her arms. "What happened? The awakening was supposed to be gradual."
"I don't know. I woke up Monday and everything was just... more. Smells, sounds, even my memory feels sharper."
"Show me your hands."
I hold them out. My nails are longer again, despite trimming them yesterday. And when I flex my fingers, I can see the strength in them, the way my tendons stand out, the definition in muscles that weren't there a week ago.
"You're accelerating," Freya says. "The awakening is happening faster than expected. Six days until the full moon, but at this rate, you might shift earlier."
"Is that possible?"
"For the Silvermane bloodline? Yes. Your mother's family was known for rapid transformations. Some could shift at will within days of their first awakening." She studies my face. "But that kind of power comes with risks. If you shift before the full moon, you might not be able to control it. Might not be able to shift back."
The thought terrifies me. "What do I do?"
"Stay calm. Avoid triggers. Keep Declan close…the mate bond will help ground you." She pulls out a small vial of clear liquid. "And take this. Three drops under your tongue if you feel yourself losing control. It won't stop the transformation, but it'll delay it. Buy you enough time to get somewhere safe."
I pocket the vial. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. We don't know if it'll work on someone with your bloodline. My grandmother's notes were... incomplete regarding the Silvermanes." Freya's expression is worried. "Vivienne, you need to tell Declan about the acceleration. He needs to know you might transform early."
"I will. Tonight."
"Good. And one more thing, stay away from your father. If he realizes how fast you're changing, he'll do something desperate. Something that could hurt you badly."
Lunch is an exercise in sensory overload.
The dining hall is packed with students, and I can hear every conversation simultaneously. Not just nearby tables…every table, every voice overlapping into an incomprehensible wall of sound. I can smell what everyone's eating, can distinguish individual ingredients in the shepherd's pie and vegetable curry and chocolate brownies.
"You're not eating again," Sophie observes, poking at her own meal.
"Not hungry."
"You're never hungry. Vivienne, when's the last time you had a proper meal?"
I try to remember. Sunday breakfast? Maybe? The thought of food makes my stomach turn, except…
The girl at the next table is eating steak. Rare, blood pooling on her plate. And suddenly I'm ravenous. My mouth waters. My stomach growls loudly enough that Sophie looks at me in surprise.
"Okay, so you are hungry. Want me to get you something?"
"No. I'm fine."
But I'm staring at that steak, at the red juice, and it takes everything I have to look away.
"There's Declan," Sophie says, gesturing toward the entrance. "He keeps looking over here. Why don't you just talk to him? Whatever weirdness is happening between you two, ignoring each other isn't helping."
She's right. Declan is standing near the door, his attention on me. Even from across the crowded room, I can feel the pull between us. Can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clench and unclench.
"I'll be back," I tell Sophie, standing while also texting Declan: We need to talk, the old chapel.