Wisteria Petals Novels & Stories

Anastasia One by one, the shewolves step forward, each offering a flower. White petals pass into my hands, soft and light, almost glowing in the quiet light around us. There's something about them that tugs at my chest—like I’m being trusted with something fragile and beautiful at the same time. Each flower feels like a piece of something bigger. I don’t even try to hold back the smile pulling at my lips. It grows with every step they take toward me, with every petal added to my arms.

God, she couldn't go through with this, could she? She then looked at Kristof's hands which were covered in satin purple gloves. There was nothing weird to be seen, but Spencer could picture it in her head. A stump instead of a hand. She cursed her decision from the night before. She should have looked at Kristof then. Maybe she wouldn't be so shocked right now. She felt she needed to throw up, right in front of all these people. Her feet dragged over the floor which was filled with little lilac flower petals. Above her head dangled hundreds of wisteria flower branches that let go of their petals every now and then when the wind softly blew. A soft rain of petals fell on her while she walked

It was beautiful. “It’s called wisteria,” Drew said softly, taking my hand and leading me towards it. “It’s one of my grandpa’s favourites… and my mom's.” The soft petals brushed my face as we walked under the hanging blooms, filling my lungs with a burst of freshness, and I sneezed a few more times. “It’s beautiful,” I muttered. “It’s poisonous to humans and animals to ingest,” Drew added and instinctively put a hand on Irwin. “No, he’s been trained to stay away from them. It was hard work, but he knows not to eat them. Now, this is the magical part.”

"Yes... yes... I’m okay. I’m just... I’m just..." His voice trailed off as his eyes fell on a cluster of pink and milk-colored petals shivering in the night breeze. Viburnum. They were the same flowers he had seen in the sprawling garden of the Wellman estate—the garden that had felt like a stolen paradise. He reached out with a trembling hand, his fingertips barely grazing the delicate, cool petals.

By May, the wisteria was doing what first-year wisteria always does—almost nothing above ground and everything below. Its thin stem clung to the south wall like a hesitant promise, a suggestion that perhaps, in the right time, beauty would emerge. To the casual eye, it looked like a failure, a plant that had given up before starting, but Dante knew better.

Let’s us be wrong about it. Then— “This,” he says calmly, “is Snowbloom Wisteria.”

There were moments when the world went quiet, not silent, but still. The kind of quiet where even the wind seemed to hold its breath. That’s what the garden felt like. A pause between storms. Mia sat beneath the arching wisteria tree, its soft purple blossoms hanging low like whispered secrets. Baby T was giggling beside her, hands stained with grass and crumbs from the fruit tart he had half-devoured earlier. He insisted they share everything. Even her lap.

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

ANAYA'S POV I felt so angry to the core that I was being treated like a puppy he was walking. He stayed behind me in silence, monitored my steps and cross checked everything and anything I bent touch to touch. I couldn't help but to frown at him every time he came close to me. A four petal pink flower stood firm despite the cold wind blowing every once in a while. I stepped closer to and and knelt down to get a better look at it. Its petals were light pink with the middle being of each petal being a deep shade of red. Yellow seeds stood out in the middle of the small flower.

“Did you just nickname me? That is so sweet." He returned her gaze. "Whose cutout was it that you used to marry?" She paused. "You're right, we shouldn't talk." At this point, Willow and Wes were standing in front of a wooden structure that appeared to be an old house at the top of the hill. As the two entered through the doorless entrance, there was a strong lavender scent in the air. A woman in black and purple robes sat on the edge of the elevated platform near the entrance with one leg folded and the other resting on the floor. She picked a few of the dried petals from a large tray she was holding in her lap.