The late morning sun glinted off the pristine white slopes of Ice Rock Mountain, casting a blinding shimmer across the snow. Jessica adjusted her ski goggles, watching her breath form small clouds in the crisp mountain air. The reflection was almost too bright for her enhanced werewolf vision, even through the protective lenses. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust. The familiar tingling sensation in her eyes reminded her of her first full moon transformation–that same overwhelming sensitivity to light, the way every detail seemed to pop with supernatural clarity.

  The mountain air was thick with scents her enhanced senses could easily distinguish: pine needles, the metallic tang of ski equipment, coconut sunscreen, and the mixture of excitement and anxiety emanating from her fellow cheerleaders. Some tried to mask their nervousness with excessive chatter, while others fidgeted with their equipment, trying to look confident.

  "Eyes on me, ladies!" Coach Rodriguez's voice cut through the chatter. Dark-skinned and built like a professional athlete, he moved with the effortless grace that made even standing still look like a performance. His black ski suit hugged his athletic frame, and his calm confidence suggested years of experience on the slopes. Jessica noticed how he subtly shifted his weight on the packed snow, maintaining a perfect balance without seeming to think about it.

  "Today we're going to focus on proper form and weight distribution," he continued, positioning himself sideways on the gentle slope. "This isn't like your usual cheerleading routines. One wrong move up here could mean a serious injury." His dark eyes scanned the group, making sure everyone was paying attention. "I know you're all used to being in control of your bodies, but skiing requires a different awareness."

  Jessica studied him carefully as he showed the proper skiing technique. His movements were precise, and each shift of weight was calculated and smooth. Unlike the other cheerleaders, who were giggling and stealing glances at his muscular frame, she focused on her technique. She'd learned the hard way that her werewolf strength didn't automatically translate to skill–if anything, it made control more challenging. Last week's attempt at pottery class ended with several crushed bowls and one very confused art teacher.

  "Watch how I distribute my weight," Coach Rodriguez explained, leaning slightly to show a turn. "It's all about balance and control. Your center of gravity should always be slightly forward, knees bent." He moved through the motion slowly, breaking it down into components. "The key is to feel the edge of your skis engaging with the snow. Think of it like a dance–you're partnering with the mountain, not fighting against it."

  Camella raised her hand, twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger. Her designer ski jacket probably cost more than most people's entire winter wardrobe. "Can you show us again? But maybe this time without a shirt?" Her comment triggered a burst of high-pitched laughter from Amber and Mia, who huddled together in matching purple ski jackets. They'd been inseparable since freshman year, and their synchronized giggling had become something of a squad trademark.

  "Yeah, Coach," Amber chimed in, batting her eyelashes. Her perfectly applied makeup seemed out of place on a ski slope. "It's not that cold out here." She nudged Mia, who nodded enthusiastically, their blonde ponytails bobbing in unison.

  Coach Rodriguez rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The weather-beaten lines around his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Focus, ladies. This isn't a beach workout. This is skiing—a sport that requires actual skill and concentration. Save the flirting for the lodge." He adjusted his stance, demonstrating the proper positioning again. "Your life literally depends on getting these basics right."

  Tiffany shot them a disapproving look, her perfectly shaped eyebrows drawing together. "Some of us are trying to totally learn here," she said, her tone sharp. Jessica noticed how Tiffany's perfectly coordinated purple and white ski outfit matched her pristine equipment–everything about her screamed controlled perfection. Even the way she stood in her skis looked like she practiced in front of a mirror.

  Jessica appreciated Coach Rodriguez's no-nonsense approach. While the other girls were more interested in flirting, she was determined to master the technique. She had always been like that—whether it was cheerleading, supernatural investigations, or snow skiing, Jessica threw herself into learning with complete dedication. It wasn't just about being good at something; it was about maintaining control over her supernatural abilities. One slip, one moment of letting her wolf strength take over, and someone could get hurt.

  Her enhanced werewolf senses picked up the subtle vibrations of the mountain—the crunch of snow, the distant echo of ski lifts, and the subtle shifts in the wind. Something felt different today. There was an energy in the air, a peculiar stillness that made her wolf instincts tingle. She'd learned to trust these feelings–they usually meant something was about to happen. The last time she'd had this sensation, they'd ended up fighting a ghost in the school gymnasium.

  "You're overthinking it," Salina whispered, sidling up next to her. Her black winter gear stood in stark contrast to the cheerleaders' colored ski outfits, a choice that was perfectly Salina–practical and unbothered by squad fashion trends. "I can practically hear your brain working overtime. Relax." Her dark eyes held that knowing look she'd developed since learning about Jessica's supernatural secret.

  Jessica smiled at her friend. Salina had been by her side through everything–the werewolf transformation, the supernatural adventures, the constant balancing act between normal teenage life and her new reality. "I just want to get it right," she whispered back. "You know how it is with the whole super-strength thing."

  "You always do," Salina replied, adjusting her goggles. The morning sun caught the metallic frame, creating a brief flash. "But sometimes you need to—"

  Before she could finish, a blur of motion caught Jessica's eye. A girl in a red ski jacket with long black hair and green eyes came sailing down the slope, cutting a reckless path between other skiers. She moved with supernatural grace, her movements too fluid to be entirely human. She looked familiar, and Jessica's enhanced vision picked up details that confirmed her suspicions–the slightly tanned skin, the predatory grace of a vampire who'd learned to move among humans.

  "Wait," Jessica said, her enhanced vision picking up details that others would miss. The way the girl's feet barely seemed to touch the snow, how she navigated between other skiers with impossible precision. "Is that—?"

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Frankie?" Salina finished, just as surprised. "What's she doing here?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, aware of the other cheerleaders nearby.

  The girl—Frankie—caught an edge and spun dramatically before catching her balance, executing a move that would have been impossible for a normal human. With a whoop of triumph, she skidded to a stop right in front of them, sending a spray of snow across Jessica's boots. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief, and Jessica could sense the familiar supernatural energy radiating from her. The chilly mountain air didn't seem to affect her at all, which made sense–vampires didn't feel temperature the same way humans did.

  "Well, well, dudes," Frankie grinned, revealing teeth that were just a touch too sharp. "Didn't expect to see you here. Small world, huh?" Her voice carried the same laid-back surfer drawl they remembered from last summer, completely at odds with her current snow-covered surroundings.

  Jessica couldn't help but laugh. They'd first met Frankie last summer during a supernatural encounter in the Bahamas—a vampire surfer who'd helped them fight an evil undead serial killer. The memory of that adventure was still vivid–moonlit beaches, a beautiful bonfire, and a violent rainstorm. "Vacation?" she asked, already suspecting there was more to it.

  "More like a break," came another voice. A girl with short orange hair in bright, quirky winter gear rolled up beside Frankie. She wore a cozy orange jacket, yellow pants, and a green snow beanie that made her look like a walking traffic light. The glasses on her freckled face made her cute green eyes look big. "Dee Dee Matthews," she introduced herself with a sarcastic salute. "Nerdy surfer and supernatural expert. At your service!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, even if her color coordination was questionable.

  A lanky blonde guy followed, his board tucked under his arm. Marijuana leaf patterns covered his jacket, and his eyes had the slightly glazed look of someone who started their day with a wake-and-bake. He moved with surprisingly coordinated for someone who smelled like he'd hotboxed his car on the way up the mountain. "Ted Harris," he said, flashing a laid-back smile. "And before you ask—yes, I am always this charming. Also, don't worry about the whole vampire-werewolf thing. We're cool with it."

  Salina snorted. "Charming isn't the word I'd use." She wrinkled her nose slightly–Jessica knew her friend could smell the same thing she could. The pungent aroma of marijuana mixed with artificial pine air freshener suggested Ted had tried to cover up his morning activities.

  Jessica caught a whiff of something underneath Ted's winter jacket. Marijuana, mixed with a hint of cheap cologne and energy drink. Her enhanced senses weren't just for tracking—they picked up every subtle scent around her, creating a detailed olfactory map of her surroundings. She could even detect traces of salt water and surfboard wax, suggesting these three hadn't completely left their beach life behind.

  "So," Frankie said, cutting through the small talk. Her eyes darted around, taking in the cheerleading squad with mild amusement. "If you're wondering where my boyfriend is, Damon's visiting his grandparents in Jamaica." There was something in her tone that suggested this wasn't the entire story.

  "Ah. My boyfriend is visiting his grandparents too," Jessica replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Quite a coincidence." They shared a knowing look–in their world, coincidences rarely existed.

  Salina glared at Dee Dee and Ted with suspicion in her dark eyes. "How did you know Jessica is a werewolf?" Her protective instinct was showing–she'd become fiercely defensive of Jessica's secret for a while.

  Dee Dee giggled, adjusting her glasses. "It's okay," she whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "Frankie told us. Don't worry—total cone of silence. We've got plenty of experience keeping secrets." She tapped her nose knowingly, nearly dislodging her glasses.

  "Speaking of secrets," Ted added, "I locked myself inside an outhouse once. It was a total clusterfuck-"

  Before he could finish, the rest of her cheerleading squad descended, drawn by newcomers. Jessica could smell their curiosity and judgment–a mix of designer perfumes and competitive tension. They moved as a coordinated unit, their matching outfits making them look like a purple and white avalanche.

  "Who are your new friends?" Tiffany asked her tone somewhere between curious and dismissive. Her eyes scanned over the group, lingering disapprovingly on Ted's marijuana-themed jacket. Jessica could practically see her mentally calculating how this interaction might affect the squad's reputation.

  Ted, clearly mistaking her interest for an invitation, stepped forward with what he probably thought was a smooth smile. "Hey there. Wanna grab some hot chocolate later? I make it special if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Tiffany's nose wrinkled. Jessica knew why—she could smell the marijuana on Ted's breath from several feet away. "Hard pass," Tiffany said, turning to Jessica and Salina. "Are you two going to keep up or stay behind?" Her tone made it clear which choice she preferred.

  Jessica bit her lip. "I think me and Salina will take a break right now. We'll catch up soon." She tried to keep her voice casual, though her wolf senses were still tingling with that strange anticipation.

  Tiffany shrugged. "Okay." She turned and glided away, the rest of the squad following like perfectly coordinated purple shadows.

  As the cheerleaders walked away in a coordinated flutter of purple and white, Jessica lingered. She could feel the tension in the air–not hostile, but charged with supernatural energy. Frankie's green eyes—now with a slightly predatory gleam—locked onto hers.

  "What's up with her?" She asked, jerking her thumb in Tiffany's direction.

  "Oh, she's our cheer captain," Salina explained and rolled her eyes. "Not so friendly with outsiders, and she is the reason we are here." She gestured at the ski slope around them.

  "Oh, so you are a cheerleader now?" Frankie's eyebrows rose in surprise.

  Salina nodded as her cheeks turned red. "Yeah, I convinced myself to watch so I could guard Jessica’s back. It's actually kind of fun when Tiffany isn't being... Tiffany."

  "Cool," Frankie said, her tone casual but her eyes intense. "By the way, we're grabbing lunch at the lodge later. You should join us. Dee Dee's got some stories you might find interesting, and it's better to talk without an audience." The implication was clear–they had supernatural business to discuss.

  Jessica exchanged glances with Salina, who nodded. "Sounds good," Jessica replied. "Maybe you can tell us what really brought you to Ice Rock Mountain."

  "Oh, nothing much," Dee Dee said with a wink. "We just wanted to try snowboarding during the holiday break. Folks back in Norchester Bay said Ice Rock Mountain has the best slopes ever." Her attempt at nonchalance was about as subtle as her orange jacket.

  "Snowboarding is like snow surfing," Ted added, swaying slightly. "Get it?"

  Frankie laughed. "Okay. Meet us at the Evergreen Lodge at one. We'll grab a table in the back–away from prying eyes and enhanced hearing range."

  "Sounds good," said Jessica, already wondering what kind of supernatural situation they'd stumbled into this time.

  As they watched Frankie, Dee Dee, and Ted head off toward the advanced slopes, Salina turned to Jessica. "Well, there goes our normal ski trip." Her tone was resigned but excited–after all their adventures together, she'd developed a taste for supernatural mysteries.

  Jessica laughed. "Was it ever going to be normal?" The tingling in her wolf senses had intensified, confirming her suspicions that something interesting was brewing.

  "Point taken," Salina conceded. "At least lunch should be interesting." She adjusted her goggles and gestured toward their waiting squad. "Shall we?"

  They turned back to join their squad, Jessica's mind already racing with possibilities. Whatever had brought Frankie and her friends to Ice Rock Mountain, their tales should be interesting. But first, she had to focus on Coach Rodriguez's lesson–supernatural drama or not; she was determined to master these slopes. After all, being a teenage werewolf cheerleader was all about balance, in more ways than one.