VIOLET SWAN.OREGÓN-PORTLAND. ꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎ Sam’s house is huge. Way bigger than I imagined. Lights glow on the porch, in the garden, behind every window. Music pulses from inside, laughter blending with the deep bass of a song I don’t recognize. I knew she was popular, but I didn’t expect half the campus to be here—packed onto the lawn, crowding around the pool, holding red cups and wearing clothes that shimmer under the garden lights. The noise hits me the second I step past the gate. It’s not just loud. It’s constant. No silence. Everything crashes at once: laughter, music, ice clinking in glasses, someone singing off-key. I cross my arms. The dress doesn’t cover much, and even though it’s not that cold, the air feels sharper on my skin than it should. I’m not built for this kind of scene. And I don’t think I can stay long if I keep feeling like this.“Cariño!” Tara’s voice cuts through the noise. I spot her from a distance, her cup raised, her e

VIOLET SWAN. OREGÓN-PORTLAND. ꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎ The weekend had been complete chaos. In my mind, the argument Aarón and I had — about him punching Sam’s brother — just won’t stop replaying. I sigh deeply, feeling the crisp autumn air slip through my parted lips. I close my eyes for a moment, but the images rush back: his eyes locked on mine, my harsh words, the silence that followed.I slowly shake my head, as if that motion alone could shake off everything weighing me down. I cross my arms over my chest, searching for a little warmth. The campus is wrapped in autumn’s golden and crimson hues. Leaves fall slowly, twirling through the air before piling up on the gravel paths. In the distance, trees sway gently with the breeze, and the sound of distant footsteps breaks the silence every now and then.It’s a peaceful scene — almost dreamlike — until Tara shows up.She walks toward me with firm steps, her boots marking the rhythm. Her h

VIOLET SWAN.OREGON-PORTLAND. ꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎ It’s been a week since Aarón started working at the same university where I teach. Just thinking about how strange this week has been makes me laugh to myself, like it’s the funniest joke in the world. It’s Friday, and I decided to get home early and cook something nice.I rinse the vegetables, and once everything’s ready, I start chopping the carrots. My phone rings, and I answer.“Hey, little wolf...”“Where are you?” he snaps, ignoring my greeting.“At home,” I reply. “I left early. Is something wrong, Aarón?” I ask, curious about his tone.“No, nothing’s wrong.” I hear him sigh on the other end. I can’t tell if it’s hesitation or concern. “I just wanted to know where you were...”“Well, I’m making a delicious dinner.” —the controlling wolf probably went into grumpy mode when he didn’t see me— That thought makes it hard to keep a straight f

VIOLET SWAN. OREGON – PORTLAND.꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎The noise from the garage wakes me. I grab my phone from the floor beside the sofa and check the time—realizing it’s already past midnight. *Why is he coming back so late? He was supposed to be here four hours ago.* My mind won’t stop spinning questions, and none of the answers calm me. I close my eyes, set the phone on the coffee table, and sink deeper into the cushions, pretending to sleep. The living room air is cold, heavy with the scent of scented candle wax and the faint trace of my perfume on the blanket draped over my legs.I hear the click of the lock, then the soft creak of the front door closing. He sighs. The metallic clink of keys dropping into the entryway bowl. His footsteps—slow, heavy—head toward the dining room. I don’t move. I pretend to breathe evenly, though my heart beats a little faster. Gradually, his steps draw closer. He stops. I feel his presence before I feel his touch—

ERIC CONNOR. ITALY.꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎“Eric,” I hear—but I don’t stop walking. My fingers curl inside my pockets, my neck stiff. I have no interest in interacting with these walking corpses. “Stop, you idiot. Can’t you hear me?” the female voice snaps behind me—and her hand digs into my shoulder with a pressure meant to dominate, but it trembles slightly.“What the hell do you want now, Eliza?” I reply, jerking my elbow to knock her hand off my shoulder without looking at her. The crimson gaze of the blonde sends a chill through me—empty, yes, but sharp. I don’t know if it’s fear or the anger I’ve been carrying for being here against my will, forced to live among these monsters disguised as humans.“You’ve been communicating with those grotesque dogs from Red Moon,” she says—and there’s a hint of doubt in her tone, as if she’s afraid of the answer.I laugh. It’s true. But honestly, I don’t care about anything anymore at this po