"Put me down, please, I can walk on my own." Violet demanded, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Thank the gods, she met no student out on the way.
For a moment, it seemed Alaric would ignore her request; she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But then, he carefully set her down to her surprise. And the second her feet touched the ground, Violet quickly adjusted her skirt, tugging it down for modesty, and straightened herself as if reclaiming her dignity.
Clearing her throat, she said briskly, "Let’s go."
Without a word, Alaric turned and started walking, his usual calm demeanor intact as he led the way out of the infirmary. Violet followed him, her head held high even with the lingering embarrassment.
As they walked down the road, Violet felt a chill run down her spine. She glanced over her shoulder and froze when she saw Asher standing at the entrance of the infirmary, his piercing gaze locked onto hers.
There was something unnervingly possessive about the way he looked at her, as if daring her to step out of line. The message in his expression was crystal clear: Be a good girl.
Violet’s heart hammered as she quickly faced forward and quickened her pace, nearly jogging to catch up with Alaric. How had she forgotten, even for a moment, how dangerous he was? And to think she had been shoving her tongue down his throat moments ago. What had she been thinking? Violet knew she was really courting death.
As if sensing her unease, Alaric reached out and took her hand in his. Startled, Violet glanced at him, her steps faltering for a moment. He didn’t look at her or acknowledge the gesture. He simply held her hand firmly and continued walking. Violet’s protest died in her throat, and she silently allowed herself to be pulled along, Alaric’s presence seemingly shielding her from Asher’s ominous gaze.
The North house came into view as they walked down and for a moment there Violet opened her mouth to remind him that she was not going up to his place, but
Alaric veered off onto a narrow, winding trail that led into the woods instead. The words died in her throat.
The air was cool and filled with the scent of pine and earth, but Violet couldn’t shake her growing unease. After all, the only sounds were the soft rustle of leaves, the occasional snap of a twig and their own breathing.
Although Violet trusted Alaric, walking through the woods late at night was not the brightest idea and Violet was beginning to get suspicious. The only reason she did not run away was because Alaric did not give her any threatening vibe — which Asher was fond of. Moreover, the assignment was legit. He had no reason to hurt her. Yet.
"Where are we going exactly?" Violet asked, trying to be brave.
"Relax," Alaric said without breaking stride. "We’re almost there."
And true to his words, they arrived not long after.
They emerged into a small clearing, and Violet found herself staring at what appeared to be a simple, weathered shelter nestled beneath the towering trees. It was unassuming, almost like an abandoned cabin, with moss creeping along its edges and vines draped lazily over the roof.
"This is your workshop?" Violet asked, raising an eyebrow.
Alaric shrugged, stepping forward to push the creaky door open. "Don’t let appearances fool you. Come inside, and you’ll see."
Well, she had no choice anyway. Alaric went in before her and she followed him. But the moment Violet stepped over the threshold, she stopped in her tracks, her jaw nearly dropping to the ground.
The transformation from the modest outside to the expansive, meticulously arranged interior was incredulous. It was unbelievable that Violet stepped further in, her expression full of awe.
The space was vast and meticulously organized, and each corner seemed to be dedicated to a different project or piece of equipment while the air smelled like oil and metal, evidence of the many hours of labor Alaric spent within these walls.
At the side, steel shelves held neatly labeled compartments filled with wires, gears, and gadgets. While a massive workbench dominated the center of the room, its surface cluttered with blueprints, half-assembled devices, and an array of tools that Violet couldn’t name.
Above the bench hung a grid of lights strung together in a pattern that resembled constellations. The soft, bluish glow bathed the room in a futuristic ambiance, giving it a peaceful yet electrifying energy.
Suspended from the ceiling were models of planetary orbits, and in the corner, a lightning globe buzzed faintly, crackling with small bursts of electricity that danced within the glass.
In one area, an entire wall was dedicated to physics equations and diagrams scribbled on a massive chalkboard. The formulas sprawled across the board like an intricate web, some of the equations so advanced that Violet’s head hurt just by looking at them alone.
Not far from there, models of electrical circuits, magnets, and coils were aligned. Books, papers, literature on theoretical physics and electrical engineering were neatly stacked against the wall, their spines worn from use.
Towards the back, a large table featured an array of electronic components and microcontrollers next to a laptop that displayed complex simulation software. The digital monitors displayed real-time data from his experiments.
It was safe to say that Violet was both impressed, intimidated and scared by the scope of Alaric’s intellect and the depth of his dedication.
How in the world had he not gone mad from reading the volumes upon volumes of these books? If anyone amongst the cardinal alphas was supposed to be crazy, it was him. Not Asher.
Not to mention with his incredible mind, Alaric could create gadgets that could potentially revolutionize energy use within the werewolf community. Alaric was really a prized werewolf. No wonder Elsie wouldn’t let go of any of them. They were incredible in their own ways, she guessed Elsie must have difficulty choosing.
Poor Girl.