1. A wicked cherub

Victoria’s POV

I don't like exam periods. Not because I don't know what I'm doing, mind you. I'm a straight-A student. I don't like exam periods because of the moods that come with them.

People hardly smile. They walk around like zombies, with stress and anxiety written all over their faces, making each day feel as if someone has sucked all the colour out of the atmosphere. I'm a happy, carefree kinda girl who doesn't like solemn environments. They dampen my spirit and affect my general well-being.

My daddy taught me that when you stress out, your awareness suffers. You see less, hear less, and think less clearly. But when you maintain a calm, optimistic mindset, even in a bad situation, you see more, sense more, become a better problem-solver, and give yourself more options.

Thank God it's over now.

It's the end of the session, and I'm elated. I finish my last paper humming a song as I submit my answer sheet to the invigilator and sign out of the hall. The man looks at me wonderingly over his spectacles. Since I know I'm not breaking any rules, I shrug, then flash him a bright smile before walking out of the exam hall.

The moment I close the door behind me, I shout and laugh with relief.

"Yes! Woooo-hooooo!"

James Brown's song begins playing in my head, and I shamelessly sing and dance along as I hurry out of the faculty.

"Wow! I feel good, ta da da da da da!

I knew that I would now. Ta da da da da da!

I feel good. Ta da da da da da!

I knew that I would now. Ta da da da da da!

So good! So good! I got you!"

Students passing by laugh as they watch me. Some even get their phones out to record me, but I don't mind. At the moment, I'm happy to be the clown who puts smiles on their stressed and anxious faces.

I arrive at my dormitory, cheerfully greeting every student and staff member I come across as I run up the stairs to the suite I share with another girl my age.

Beautiful and vivacious Camila is a suitemate who has turned into a friend.

Tomorrow, we're going skydiving with some friends, and I'm super excited. It's been so long since the last time. I miss the thrill of free-falling through the air after jumping out of a plane. It's an incredibly liberating and peaceful experience.

All the arrangements for the trip have been made. I just need to pack my stuff and send the ones I won't be needing for the trip home ahead of me.

My parents think I'm vacationing in Italy to explore Rome's ancient ruins, visit historical sites, and probably flirt with curly-haired Italian boys. My mom especially would shit square eggs if she found out I'm going skydiving instead of exploring the city of Rome. She blew a gasket the first time I went bungee jumping, and I made the mistake of sharing my experience with her.

"What kind of a girl are you!? How could you endanger your life just for a rush of excitement!? What is the matter with you?!..."

She talked and talked and talked until it became a shouting contest between us, while my daddy just looked helpless as he wordlessly opened and closed his mouth, not knowing whose side to take.

Poor Daddy.

Always the peacemaker between us.

Never again! What she doesn't know won't make her worry.

Camila is home.

I note to myself with a smile when I hear reggaeton music blaring from her room.

It was because of this attitude of hers that her first suitemate approached me about swapping rooms with her. She was studious and couldn't cope with the constant blaring of music from Camila's room.

I readily accepted because, one, I don't mind loud music. Two, my suitemate at the time wasn't my kind of person either. Although she tried not to show it, I could tell from the excuses she made every time I offered to do things together that she wasn't comfortable around werewolves.

I drop my keys and backpack in my room before going to Camila's door. I know she won't hear me if I knock, but I do so anyway.

When she doesn't answer, I open the door and peek inside to see her trying on a dress.

"Hey!" I call out in a loud voice.

She turns and smiles when she sees me.

"Oh, thank God you're here!"

She reaches for the remote and turns off the music. Then she turns her back to me. "Come help me with this zipper."

"You have a date? Aren't you supposed to be packing?" I ask as I help zip up the dress.

"We'll be back in time to do the packing. I'm just trying it on." She moves to look at herself in the dressing mirror. "The team is celebrating the end of the school session with a party. I asked Colton if you could come along and—"

I sigh and interrupt before she can finish.

"Camila, I..."

"I know! I know! You don't want to go because of what happened with Jamie." She interrupts me too. "It's just that I need you there! Mia and her bitch teammates will be there, you know. I don't want to be alone with any of them when Colton goes off to do stuff with his friends. Please!"

I sigh again as she continues to look at me pitifully.

I already knew about the party. Colton had invited me. I guess he didn't tell her that I rejected his invitation.

Colton was my senior in high school, but we weren't on speaking terms back then. He was two years ahead of me. Fortunately, we met again here in college and became good friends.

I introduced him to Camila when he broke up with his ex, Mia, who is the captain of his team's cheerleading squad.

Jamie is my ex-boyfriend and is on the same football team as Colton. I broke up with him when I caught him cheating on me with one of Mia's friends.

That bastard wasn't even man enough to own up to what he'd done.

"I'm sorry. They set me up."

Really?!

So what if he was indeed set up by Mia and her friends, as I later deduced after speaking with Colton and thinking about what had led to me catching him in the act.

Did she kidnap him and force him to that secluded place?

No, she did not.

He willingly followed her.

Did she tie him down before forcing herself on him?

No, she did not.

He willingly had sex with her.

When I walked in on them, she was slightly bent over, leaning her arms against the wall, her legs spread wide and her dress rolled up to her waist, while he furiously fucked her from behind as if his life depended on it.

I hope I don't ever see that bastard again until he graduates. But what can I do now that my friend needs me? I know how spiteful she-wolves can be toward any woman they feel is encroaching on a man they believe belongs to them. Especially if she's not a werewolf.

Camila is human.

"Okay..." I reluctantly say with a smile.

She shrieks with happiness.

"Oh, Vic! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I owe you one!"

After giving me a quick hug, she pushes away from me and asks,

"Okay! Now, what do you think of my dress? You like?"

She's wearing a beautiful mini sundress that twirls as she turns for me to properly see.

"Yes. It's beautiful. You know you don't need me to tell you that. You have a good eye for fashion."

She smiles.

"Thank you. So I got you this one." She picks up another dress from the bed and holds it up for me to see. "White always enhances your beauty. Those bitches' eyes would pop with envy when they see us. Jamie would wish he had never cheated on you and—"

"Camila, I don't care about that bastard anymore. So please, stop mentioning his name around me."

I say it firmly, but deep down, I know I'm lying to myself.

It's been three weeks since I broke up with him. Why haven't I forgotten about him if I truly don't care?

Obviously, I still do.

I'm still hurting.

He was my first boyfriend.

A few weeks into our relationship, we discussed the issue of sex, and both agreed to wait for two years. If we didn't meet our mates after those two years had elapsed, then we'd totally be together in every sense of the word. His betrayal was really painful.

"Okay, I'm sorry! I promise I won't mention his name to you anymore."

She looks genuinely sorry, her lips forming a childish pout.

I laugh.

"Thank you."

I accept the dress from her even though I have no intention of wearing it to the party. I accept it because she'll never take no for an answer, and I'm not in the mood to go back and forth over it with her.

Indeed, white looks good on me, but it's not suitable for this kind of party.

The colour white, combined with my kind of look, makes me appear cherubic.

Sweet.

Innocent.

Childlike.

That is not who I am, and it's certainly not the appearance I want to portray at a party full of beautiful, scatty she-wolves. Mia thinks I'm vulnerable and easily bullied. She needs to be schooled never to judge a book by its cover.

"I should go prepare," I tell Camila before walking out of her room.

I smile to myself when a wicked idea begins to form in my mind.