[Enid POV]
I stood in front of the mirror, the one cracked at the corner where I'd once dropped a hairdryer, and adjusted the collar of my dress. The fabric caught the lamplight, silver-white, soft as frost. Tiny sequins shimmered like frozen stars with each breath I took. The fur cuffs brushed against my wrists, and the faint chill of the fabric made me shiver.
My hair, freshly curled into soft waves, framed my face in pale lilac, brushing against the white fur of my collar.
Behind me, the sound of typewriter keys filled the room, each click a tiny dagger of rhythm. Wednesday sat at her desk, face illuminated by the lamplight. She hadn't looked at me once since I started getting ready. Her fingers moved like machinery, creating death and poetry in equal measure.
I glanced at her reflection. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"
The typing didn't stop. "I prefer funerals," she said flatly.
I turned toward her, smirking. "You know," I said, turning back to the mirror, "I think you'd actually enjoy it."
That earned me silence long enough to count as an opinion.
"I mean, it'll be fun," I added quickly, more to myself than to her. "We kind of deserve that, after all the… chaos."
From the corner of my eye, I saw her stop typing. The typewriter gave one last reluctant click.
"Two sides of the same coin," she said finally.
Something about her voice made me stop brushing my hair. "What do you mean?" I asked, turning toward her.
Wednesday looked up, the lamplight catching her eyes and turning them into polished obsidian.
She leaned back in her chair, fingers folding neatly over her lap. "First, Perseus is like me. He has zero interest in these social exhibitions disguised as celebrations. If he's attending, it's solely because you asked… or insisted."
My stomach tightened a little, though I kept my expression neutral. "So?"
"So," she said calmly, "you will spend the evening pretending he's enjoying himself, while he spends it pretending to be mortal. It's fascinating how two very different characters can still end up together."
I swallowed, glancing at the mirror again, at the shimmer of my dress. "That's… not very optimistic."
"I'm not known for optimism," she said.
There was something in her tone, not jealousy exactly, but something close to it.
I tried to laugh it off. "You're just saying that because you don't like dances."
Her gaze didn't soften. "And second," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, "only a few days have passed since the scandal. Gossip decays slowly here. If anything, it has fermented."
The air in the room felt colder suddenly.
She went on, voice calm. "They will stare. They will whisper. And you will smile, pretending not to care, while everyone judges you."
Her words hit harder than I wanted them to. Maybe because they were true.
For a second, I wanted to throw something, maybe the hairbrush, maybe my own reflection. Instead, I took a breath and forced a smile.
My gaze drifted back to the mirror. For a moment, I didn't see myself, not really.
I saw every version of me layered on top of each other like ghosts pressed against glass: the girl who felt lonely because she feared she'd never wolf out; the one who laughed too loudly to drown the silence; the one who broke down in the forest with her claws out and her heart bleeding through her ribs. And the one standing here now, wrapped in glitter, pretending she didn't care about a world that had already judged her.
I tilted my head slightly, studying the stranger in the reflection. The light hit my hair in waves of pale violet, the sequins catching it like tiny constellations. My eyes looked clearer than I remembered. For the first time in days, I didn't look like someone broken. I looked like someone who had survived something ugly and decided not to apologize for it.
I smiled at myself, then turned to Wednesday.
"Don't wait up," I said, grabbing my small clutch from the desk. "Try not to murder anyone while I'm gone."
Her lips twitched, the faintest ghost of amusement. "No promises."
I smiled and left before the silence swallowed us again.
My heels clicked softly against the floor as I walked. When I reached the courtyard doors, I felt as though I was crossing a threshold into another world. The full moon hung low, its light stretching across the cobblestones, and there, sitting on one of the benches beneath the oak tree, was Percy.
He hadn't noticed me yet. His gaze was tilted toward the stars, lost somewhere far from here. The faint wind stirred his hair, and the light turned the edges of his face to marble. There was something absent in his expression, not sadness, but distance, like he was quietly conversing with something the rest of us couldn't see.
He wore a crisp white shirt and dark green trousers, not exactly traditional, but close enough to the committee's suggestion of an all-white theme. At least this year's concept, Climate Crisis Meets Extinction Event, was not as bad as last year's Hawaiian Nights.
That time, he had shown up in swim trunks and a floral shirt and asked where the girls with coconut bras were.
For a second, I just stood there watching him, then stepped forward slowly. My heels barely made a sound against the stones.
[Perseus POV]
I looked at the stars and got lost in my thoughts about the Raven Ball.
A school event that happens every year, where everyone dresses up, pretends to have the time of their lives, and spends half the night trying to prove they are not losers.
If you arrive single, you might as well wear a sign that says failure. And the worst part? There isn't even alcohol, so you can't drown your sorrow in it.
If I were just another teenager, I'd probably be thrilled to go, show off, flirt, pretend popularity meant immortality. But I'm not. I don't have the energy or the vanity for that. Maybe I'm biased. Even in my past life I never liked this kind of event.
Still, Enid likes it.
And that's the only reason I'm standing here, staring at the stars above Nevermore's towers.
Because in a relationship, if your partner likes something, you go along with it. You don't make her feel guilty for wanting different things. If you always say no and do whatever you want, then don't come to me crying later that you got cheated on or are still single.
Still, Enid... you exhaust me.
Tonight is a full moon, and for a newly awakened Alpha, that's dangerous. If she transforms, she won't change back. And when that happens, every other werewolf in the world will come after her.
So yes, it's important that she remains calm, unprovoked, and human.
Which is, of course, why we're attending a social event packed with flashing lights and the same people who spent the past week gossiping about her.
As for why there is still gossip circulating… what exactly do people expect me to do? Fix it with honesty? Violence? Blackmail? Please.
We are not in a badly written novel with no logic. You can't silence rumors by "telling the truth." And violence or intimidation doesn't stop them from talking and only earns you an hour-long lecture from Principal Weems about integrity, followed by a threat to inform your family unless you hand over a handwritten apology. Don't ask how I know. Let's just say a few volunteers offered their services to this experiment.
While I was still deep in thought, I heard the faint echo of heels on stone. I looked up.
Enid was walking toward me in a nice dress.
"You've been waiting long?" she asked.
"Just a few minutes." I straightened from the bench and offered my hand. "Ready for the ball?"
[Enid POV]
I smiled at the memory and glanced up at him as we walked. Our hands were interlaced, his thumb tracing slow circles against my palm.
Even now, I could feel the eyes of the people around us. The whispers that clung to me like perfume I couldn't wash off.
I glanced at him instinctively and saw that he was not looking at them, but at me. And when he caught me noticing, he smiled. Just enough to make everything else blur into background noise.
Wednesday's words floated through my mind again.
Maybe she was right, maybe he didn't like such events, but he never expressed it and tried his best to make me happy.
Maybe it is true what people whisper, that we are opposites.
But as I watched the quiet steadiness in his eyes, I realized what everyone else missed about us.
I stopped walking, still holding his hand.
He turned, puzzled. "What?"
"Nothing," I said, grinning. "Follow me."
And before he could argue, I tugged him toward the opposite side of the hall, away from the noise, away from the eyes, toward the grass where the stars waited.
Why should I go to a Ball where everyone will judge me?
I just want to spend time with him.
Maybe that's all I ever wanted… not the dance, not the dress, just the quiet moments that belong only to us.
True, two sides of the same coin, yet forged from the same metal.
************
Author Note:
Yeah, update is a bit late... stressed for university and work... so today a bonus chapter (in 3 hours).
Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!