Reagan's POVI was so damn nervous. Really, you wouldn't believe it.Heck! Any sane person could tell right of the bat I was a train wreck waiting to happen.My palms were drenched with sweat, my heart was palpating as though someone was playing bongo drums on it, and my legs were trembling so much.'Calm down, Reagan,' I thought to myself, trying to calm my bundled nerves.. 'It's just a date, you've done this kind of stuff before.'Pfft!Calm down? Just a date?No, it wasn't just that...This was Derek we were talking about. When it came to him, it wasn't anything simple.Right after Derek told me we were going on a date, I booked it like I was chased after a horde of zombies to my room, and looked for a perfect dress. It was chaos out there, and it was ridiculous how I threw dress after dress out of my closet like a maniac high on Red Bull. I was about to give up, and make a desperate move to go shopping (which I totally abhor with all my might), but a certain black number that was
(Reagan at the age of 16)Family.As defined in any human context, had many several meanings. One meaning would be a myriad of things sharing the same attribute. Another meaning would be a correlation of people who shared a common belief containing one or more in general.As I look back upon a time, I could say that family was one of the most important perspectives of a person's life. The upbringing, the environment, and the moulding of one's character became a part of one's identity.In this respect, it remained of utmost importance to initiate, cultivate, maintain, and prioritize family relationships.I, however, had a loving dad, Michael, who dotted and adored me like no other. He had a promising career as a consultant to some big-time corporate tycoon and had provided our household with everything we wanted or needed. He was burly and tall, around six-foot-one with short wavy brown hair, sharply chiselled features with grey eyes that sparkled with great happiness. My mother, Lilly
"Oh my god! My feet hurt. Why didn't you tell me you live so far from civilization, Derek?" I whined. "Are we there yet?" I didn't want to sound like a complaining four year old, but all this walking had me acting like a ditz.If he wasn't that good looking, I would have bashed his head in for not giving me a heads up. There was no need for me to complain. The guy just offered me a roof over my head and the least I could do was to be grateful, but being the idiot I was, in turn acted like an ungracious misfit. Yeah, very cool Reagan. But I couldn't help it.For some reason, he failed to mention that his house was a long way from the bus stop. Why did he opted not tell me? That, I had no idea. Half of the time we were walking, I was waiting for the moment that he would pounce at me or worst, kill me in cold blood. Neither of it happened. Maybe it was just my imagination running wild, or it was just human instinct taking over for meeting a stranger. A hot stranger I might add.I glanced
Two years later"I don't want to go back to school! I would rather be home schooled!" I whined at Derek while crossing my arms in front of my chest, not backing down.We were in his study, having a heated argument about me going back to school to finish senior year - surrounded by people. Yes, people.For two years, he helped me without expecting something in return. He gave me everything. Cars, money, clothes, jewelry - you name it, I got it. But those things didn't matter to me. Derek was like a brother, best friend, and I could kick myself for saying this, but sometimes he was like a lover. I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn't help but think that way. But, he's 23 and I will be turning 18 next month. He wouldn't want to get involve with a high school girl. I was not good enough.Derek breathed in a big sigh on the verge of giving up, "Reagan, this is your senior year. I don't want you to graduate high school with a bad memory. Who knows? Maybe this year won't be so bad."I snorte
If I could remember, Ciara hated the popular crowd. So, why was she hanging out with them? Oh yeah. Bryson.Just my freaking luck.I grudgingly trudged my way to the popular table with a slight scowl on my face. As I neared the table, Ciara looked up and saw me approaching. As promised, she saved me a seat to her left and Bryson was to her right, which might I add, did on purpose."Ciara, Ciara, Ciara... You are showing signs of an insecure and intimidated girlfriend." I thought.I sat on the chair and smiled at her, "Thanks for saving me a seat." I said. I saw Bryson glance at me, then went back talking to his friend.She shook her head, "No problem." She said and looked at my tray, "You still haven't changed, Reagan. You still like pudding." She giggled.I chuckled, "Pudding will forever rock my world, CeeCee. You know that."She nodded her head, "Yeah, I know. You said and I quote, 'I want to marry this son of a bitch when I'm old enough'."I gasped, "You still remember that? Geez,
I was about to get in my car when someone called out my name, "Reagan! Reagan!"I spun around and saw Ciara walking over to me with a brooding Bryson in tow. It was funny to see him looking all doom and gloom, since he was the type of guy who could light up a room with a single smile. He had charisma and social skills. If he were to run for Student Council, he could win by a landslide. I'm pretty sure majority of those votes were from girls well, probably the one who shamelessly fawned over him. I shuddered at the thought.I leaned on my car, folding my arms over my chest and grinned, "Hey! What's up, Ciara?"She stopped when she reached my car and gawked, "Reagan? Is that your car?"I chuckled at her reaction, "Yeah. It was a gift. A bit flashy but hey, a car's a car," then end it with a shrug.She stared at me as if I had lost my mind, "Reagan, that is not just a car. That is a Porsche 918 Spyder. It's worth a whooping million smackaroos on the market."I rolled my eyes, "Like I wou
(Bryson's POV)"Bryson! Were you even listening to me?" Ciara yelled.I killed the engine and got out of the car, then slammed the door shut. I took long strides towards my house, like a raging bull who had seen a Matador flinging a red cloth. I was too furious to talk, too mad. I wondered, what the hell was wrong with me, snapping at Reagan like that? It was pretty clear that I had no business with what she does with her life and here I am, freaking out about her living with that douche of a guy named Drake... Dane... ah, hell. Whatever.I heard the passenger door open and slam shut, followed by frantic footsteps. Ciara could be relentless at times. She doesn't know when to drop the subject when it was crystal clear that I didn't want to talk about it. I hate it when she does that psychobabble bullshit about 'couples should talk about what they are feeling' and all that mushy gooey crap."Bryson! Wait up!" she shouted.I continued ignoring her then whipped the front door open with a
(Derek's POV)"I've talked with The Pillars about the incident at Treleau High. Unfortunately, that thing wasn't sanctioned. Not even a warning," one of the Elders, Marcus, said putting enough distaste on the word 'thing'. A few strands of his long black hair fell over his daunting coal black eyes as he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, bunching up his taut biceps as he sat stiffly on his chair. His define cheekbones and strong jawline made his inhuman beauty refinely menacing. His predatory face, to back it up, redefined the definition of terror.The Elders weren't a big fan of them since the dawn of time. We were taught to loathe them, seeing they were the most soiled, degraded and worthless beings that ever existed.I fought a snort that was traitorously escaping from my lips as Marcus blabbed about how loathsome they were and what not, but I guess he heard me. Sometimes, having advanced hearing was an inconvenience. It was a never ending cycle, hearing the same lines over
Reagan's POVI was so damn nervous. Really, you wouldn't believe it.Heck! Any sane person could tell right of the bat I was a train wreck waiting to happen.My palms were drenched with sweat, my heart was palpating as though someone was playing bongo drums on it, and my legs were trembling so much.'Calm down, Reagan,' I thought to myself, trying to calm my bundled nerves.. 'It's just a date, you've done this kind of stuff before.'Pfft!Calm down? Just a date?No, it wasn't just that...This was Derek we were talking about. When it came to him, it wasn't anything simple.Right after Derek told me we were going on a date, I booked it like I was chased after a horde of zombies to my room, and looked for a perfect dress. It was chaos out there, and it was ridiculous how I threw dress after dress out of my closet like a maniac high on Red Bull. I was about to give up, and make a desperate move to go shopping (which I totally abhor with all my might), but a certain black number that was
Reagan's POVI couldn't understand what's happening around me.Bryson's frigid, cold treatment... Ciara's smug bitchiness... them being back together.... it felt like I was in a twilight zone, like some alternative universe.What's even freaky was this incident in the hallway, where Bryson was having a migraine episode, and Ciara coming to his aid with a look of fear in her face. She was hiding something, and more importantly, she did something to Bryson...And the images that I saw on his head.That dark haired man was dangerously beautiful, too beautiful that he looked inhuman - like Derek.A pure blood.“Ugh,”I grunted. All of this was making my head spin. I needed some answers, and I was most definitely would get to the bottom of this. Bryson and I may not be together, but he would always have a place in my heart. He was my first love, my first time, and my best friend. I would always care about him, even though I didn't have romantic feelings for him anymore.With a sigh, I opene
Bryson's POVI didn't know whether to laugh, or strangle at my spiritual self in the neck for talking bullshit.What was he smoking? Me? Not an ordinary Alerian, and meant to save Reagan?That's just... impossible!You couldn't just sprung that on someone like it's the most casual thing in the world. We were not in England drinking tea with the Queen of England in a freaking afternoon!“What do mean I am meant to save Reagan?” I asked through gritted teeth. “Please do enlighten me, or...”This prophecy was doing my head in.He narrowed his eyes to thin slits. I kept on forgetting he doesn't respond well to threats, but what the fuck did I care? This circumstance was making me gibberish in the head right now.“Or what?” he responded deathly calm.”Remember, Bryson I don't appreciate being threatened, or need I remind you I could break your bones with a simple flick of my finger.”“Just tell me, dammit!” I hissed at him. “We are wasting time alone with this testosterone filled conversati
Bryson' POVIt was silent.Just eerie, dead silence and it was unnerving.My eyes were closed, trying to use all my senses to tell what, or where I was now. All I could remember was that my head was splitting into two from that excruciating pain; flashes of images that emerged and faded like the speed of light. I couldn't understand what those images meant. I knew that those were important, but for the life of me, I couldn't place them.Before you know it, I was out like a light.Now here I was in this desolation, trying to find out why I ended up in this state.Then again, the silence was still getting into me."Bryson," A deep and husky male voice called out to me. I swore that voice had that slight familiarity, but I couldn't seem to point out the specifics."Bryson," the familiar voice called out once again. "Arise, my friend."I tried, believe me, I tried my hardest to peel my eyes open, but my efforts were damn fruitless. It was like someone put glue to my eyelids!The voice sig
Reagan's POVAs much as I tried to understand what had just happened, my mind couldn't seem to wrap around it.Bryson's sudden cold treatment had left me confused, if not had my heart clench a bit - a slight pang in the heart from this unexpected frosty relation. I just don't understand; even though we had history together, we first started out as close friends. We knew that it'd be stupid to throw that away and we proved that when I came back after two years, but this... this was all too sudden for me and from knowing him inside and out, he isn't the kind of guy who would go frigid for no apparent reason.Something was definitely off with this scenario.Shaking my head, I decided to corner him later at lunch and demand for an explanation. Besides, he did want to talk to me and I was curious.With a sigh, I headed over to my locker to get the necessary books for my morning class. Just as I was about to open my locker, an annoyingly familiar voice chirped up, making me grind the edges
Reagan's POVAs they say, all good things come to an end, even on birthdays. I watched as everybody decided to turn in the night, but my dad just had to be all mushy on me right now."Happy Birthday, sugar bunny," my dad cooed as he wrapped me up in his arms, smothering my face with kisses. "I can't believe my baby girl is all grown-up now!"I groaned. "Aww, dad. That's just foul," I said, leaning away as I tried to thwart his lip assault. "I'm not five years old, you know."He stopped and chuckled low and deep. "I know, but I missed out eighteen years of your life, so I have plenty of smothering to catch up on."I rolled my eyes. 'You can blame mom for that,' I thought dryly. "Seriously, dad," I said, glaring at him mockingly, "you're giving me daddy cooties.""Oh yeah?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and I nodded. "Well, daddy cootie this!" And attacked my face once again with another onslaught of kisses.Oh good lord, help my face!"Okay, okay," I said, squirming under his smothering
Reagan's POVThe last time I've seen my mother was a few months ago, when Bryson, Ciara and I went to have dinner at that expensive restaurant.She wasn't alone at that time, and my chest tightened as if someone had a steely grip on it, seeing at the sight of her new-found happiness. She was with her new husband (whatever his name is, and I wouldn't care less if he was now my step-dad) and - swallowing a huge lump that lodge up my throat - cradling a baby boy in her arms.My half blood kin.That thought alone had me fuming, that pent up rage of remembering the abandonment, the lies, for turning the blind eye of the abuse and that bitter taste of resentment slowly edging at the tip of my tongue as I watched her walk towards my bed.As I fixed her a cold gaze, I had to admit that she looked better. Her once dull caramel colored hair was now shiny and vibrant, her soft facial features were beaming with sickening joy. Today she had on jeans, a ruffle collared blouse and had put on minimal
(Bryson's Point of View)Right now, my head hurts like hell.It feels like thousands of Anvils dropped on my head at one go.If this is what Willy Coyote felt when that Anvil dropped on him, then, I feel you bud. Totally feel you.Groaning, I peeled my eyes slowly, blinking furiously to get rid of blurriness. As my vision went back to focus, I found out I was tied to a chair, and more importantly, I was in a room - a very dirty one at that; the walls had grime on it, there was a small window to the far left of the room, across the window was a door with its paint peeling due to aging, and a small, dilapidated table was pushed back to the wall near the window.'Where the hell am I?' I thought, very confused.And then, just like I had been jolted by lightning, I remembered being whacked hard in the head... and that voice...Damn it! That bitch Ciara!When will she get the hint that I don't want anything to do with her now? How much will it take for me to feed sense into that psychotic b
Derek's POVFor the first time in my life, I have never felt so utterly helpless.As a pureblood (a strong and powerful one at that) and the fact that I had lived for so long, I always made sure that whatever life was thrown my way, I took everything in confident strides, but this? When it came to someone so dear to me... who I love with everything that I have in me suffer in pain and there was nothing I can do about it...It is hard... so damn hard not being able to do anything and I loathe myself for it."Ma cherie," I said to Reagan, stroking the side of her face with great delicacy. I was sitting at the edge of her bed, fussing over her like a doting grandma and I could tell she was getting irritated with me. "Please, are you sore everywhere? Does your head hu--""Derek!" Reagan interjected, gritting her teeth. "Will you shut up for a minute? You're worst that a doting grandma."I sighed deeply and went to intertwine my hand with hers, squeezing it lightly. "I can't help it - I'm