Chapter 5 – Group Project

The next morning, I woke before my alarm. For several seconds, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and listened to the silence of Room Twenty-Seven. Then I remembered where I was. Wolf Academy. The place where everyone could smell that I was human, the principal refused to explain why I had been admitted, and two very different men had reacted to me as though I were a question neither of them could answer. I pushed the thought aside and got dressed. Today was my first architecture class. For once, I had something to look forward to. The architecture hall occupied the northern wing of the academy. I found it without walking toward the medical center, which I considered a personal victory. Inside, sunlight poured through tall windows onto rows of wide drafting tables. Shelves displayed detailed models of towers, bridges, temples, and modern glass buildings. Rolled plans filled wooden cabinets along the walls. The familiar scent of paper, graphite, and polished wood eased something inside me. This was the first place at Wolf Academy that made sense. I chose a table near the middle and opened my sketchbook. Students arrived in groups, filling the room with conversation. No one sat beside me, but it bothered me less here. I traced the lines of an unfinished bridge design and let the noise fade.

“Good morning.”

I looked up. Professor Aldren stood at the front of the room. He appeared to be in his sixties, with silver hair, sharp gray eyes, and the posture of a man who considered slouching a personal failure. The room fell silent immediately.

“Architecture is not decoration,” he said. “It is responsibility. A poor design is ugly. A careless design kills.”

He wrote one word across the board.

PARTNERS.

A groan moved through the class.

“You will complete your first major project in pairs,” he continued. “The assignment will last the entire semester. Your success will depend on your ability to combine two different minds into one coherent design.”

My brief happiness disappeared. Of course. The first subject I loved had to involve working with someone who probably wanted nothing to do with me. Professor Aldren lifted a sheet of paper.

“I chose the pairs. Requests, complaints, and dramatic speeches will be ignored.”

A few students laughed. He began reading names. Each pair moved to sit together. Some students looked pleased. Others exchanged resigned expressions. I kept my eyes on my sketchbook. Maybe the professor would match me with someone patient. Or someone who could tolerate the scent of a human for an entire semester.

“Violet.”

My pencil stopped. Professor Aldren paused only long enough to check the page.

“Rafael Valerian.”

The room went strangely quiet. A pencil hit the floor somewhere behind me. I raised my head. Rafael sat two rows away beside Nik. His golden eyes were already fixed on me. He closed his notebook and stood. Several students watched him cross the room. He seemed unaware of them. His attention remained on me, carrying the same quiet intensity I had seen in the courtyard. When he reached my table, he rested one hand on the back of the empty chair.

“May I?”

The question surprised me. Professor Aldren had already decided. Rafael did not need my permission. Yet he waited for it.

“Of course.”

He sat beside me, leaving enough space between us that I did not feel crowded. For a moment, neither of us spoke. His gaze dropped to my sketchbook.

“You found the North Hall,” he said.

I looked at him. There was a faint curve at the corner of his mouth.

“Barely.”

“I noticed.”

Heat touched my cheeks.

“You could have told me my map was upside down before Nik did.”

“I thought you knew.”

“I was pretending.”

“You were convincing.”

I could not tell whether he was teasing me. His expression stayed calm, but warmth had entered his golden eyes. He turned the sketchbook slightly toward himself. The unfinished bridge covered most of the page.

“You drew this?”

“Yes.”

His fingers rested near the edge of the paper, careful not to touch the drawing.

“It’s good.”

“It isn’t finished.”

“That doesn’t make it less good.”

The sincerity in his voice left me without an answer. Professor Aldren continued assigning pairs.

Then he said, “Matteo Morvane.”

I felt someone watching me before I turned. Matteo was leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on Rafael and me. The easy smile he had worn disappeared. Professor Aldren named another partner for him. Matteo raised his hand.

“I’d like to switch.”

Professor Aldren did not look up. “No.”

“You haven’t heard my suggestion.”

“I do not need to.”

A few students shifted nervously. Matteo’s gaze returned to me.

“I think Violet would be better suited to my project.”

Professor Aldren placed the list on his desk.

“Miss Violet has already been assigned.”

“Assignments can be changed.”

“Not in my class.”

Matteo smiled, but there was no humor in it.

“Rafael doesn’t need a partner. He can organize an entire project by himself and bore everyone while doing it.”

A few students laughed quietly. Rafael did not look at him. Instead, he leaned closer to examine one of the lines in my sketch. His shoulder almost brushed mine, and I caught the clean scent of cedar and something warm I could not name. My concentration vanished for half a second.

“Your support angle is unusual,” he said softly.

I glanced at him. “Is that your polite way of saying it’s wrong?”

“No.” His eyes met mine. “It’s my way of asking why you chose it.”

Professor Aldren’s voice cut across the room.

“Mr. Morvane, my classroom is not a marketplace. You will work with the partner assigned to you.”

Matteo slowly lowered his hand.

“Understood.”

His expression said the opposite. The professor gave us our assignment: design an entrance pavilion representing cooperation between the great clans. Rafael and I spent the rest of the lesson comparing ideas. He listened when I spoke. Not politely. Not while waiting for his turn. He genuinely listened. Whenever I explained a detail, his attention settled completely on me, making it difficult to remember what I had planned to say next. I couldn't concentrate. By the end of class, we had agreed to meet the following afternoon in the library. As I packed my pencils away, Matteo approached our table. He looked at Rafael first.

“You’re wasting her time.”

Rafael closed his notebook. “She can decide that herself.”

Matteo’s eyes shifted to me.

“At least he understands one thing.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“That you should be allowed to choose.”

“I choose to finish the project I was assigned.”

For one heartbeat, he looked surprised. Then he laughed. Not offended. Amused.

“I like you more every time you tell me no.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Rafael lowered his head, but I saw the brief smile he tried to hide. Matteo stepped backward.

“Enjoy your partnership.”

“We will,” Rafael said.

Matteo’s gaze remained on me.

“This isn’t over, Violet.”

His voice was light, but the promise beneath it was not.

“Before this semester ends, I’ll get you on my team.”

Then he turned and walked away.