A rancid stench in the cave forces me to open my eyes. It’s not the first time I’ve done that, but based on how my body feels, it could very well be the last. The notion of death scares me. And that, in turn, makes me angry. I’m yet to avenge the death of those I’ve lost. Dying is not an option. Nor is being scared. My eyes always have the same view—a hunter looming over me, holding a silver stake in hand; spitting mocking words if it's either Megan or Dan. If it’s Cole, then the words are more threatening; he never fails to call me darling. Carol, however, needs no stake. All she does whenever I regain consciousness is twirl her fingers in the air. I know I hate nothing else more than what follows that action. But this time when I open my eyes, I see something else. Someone else. Riley. The human holds no silver stake in her hands. In that state, Riley is as harmless as an infant, lying too still across me on the wet floor. With a sniff, I raise my head—something I haven't manag
“Thought you weren’t ready to kill her. Like ever,” Carol confesses in a mocking tone. Cole regards her for a moment. “You want me to be honest? I’m not. Look at that face,” he says, pointing at Nessa with the sharp end of the stake. “If she’d sided with us, we could’ve made a great team. Too bad I never asked her.” Carol rolls her eyes and looks behind her, a frown starting to form on her face. “Where are Megan and Dan?” “Guarding the cave entrance.” “They don’t need to guard it,” she hisses. “My spell will keep it sealed.” He gives her a wide smile that is in all ways fake. “They might be screwing each other for all I care.” Carol crosses her arms, taking a step forward. “They should be here for the big end.” “Darling, this is only a small start,” he claims, and I understand they have forgotten me for the moment. The siblings like to ramble on and on. If anything, I want to be done with this so I won’t have to hear their voices again. “What do you think Dad will say when we fi
*Five weeks later* Nessa woke up to a start, gasping for air. Her fists clenched the bedsheets in a poor attempt to calm herself. A moment ago, she was falling from an enormous cliff into an abyss, but that was just another nightmare. She had woken up to a reality that was far more miserable. Perspiration lined her body and her arm was bleeding again, the blood soaking into her white bed sheets. She ripped the useless bandage apart and gave the bullet wound a brief look before getting up. Outside, the world was still enveloped in darkness. Bellpond was quieter now than it had been before and one could smell the despair with every breath. Nessa found remnants of the herbs in one of the chest drawers. Hastily, she rubbed it over the wound. A hiss left her lips as the wound sealed itself, burning as if in contact with acid. There was no more left. That meant she'd need to see that wretched hybrid once more. Pulling a hoodie over her head, Nessa jumped out of the window and lande
If she knew before that this day was going to be her last, she would have appreciated her last moments with her mate a little more. She could not remember the last words she said to him but she remembered what she felt just right. Embraced in his arms, huddling against the warmth of the burning wood—she remembered she was happy. Happier than she had ever been. She didn't remember telling him how she felt, maybe she did not because she was too involved in enjoying the moment. She remembered the way his eyes glistened against the fire, holding hers—his scent, calming in a way and at the
"Psst. Nessa? Ness! You shouldn't be staring at him," Riley, my bench mate tells me in a rushed whisper, trying but failing to be discreet. Her thick brows are raised and knitted together, even though her eyes look straight ahead at Mrs. Robinson — our biology teacher — who is blabbering about frogs. Ew She places her hand over mine, trying to grab my attention. But I ignore her. Despite her continued whispered warnings, I don’t take my eyes away from him. I want to, but I just can’t. Not today. I don’t see it, but I know Riley's bulbous eyes are widening as her voice grows restless. She sounds surprised. Riley isn’t a friend — even though we sit together in every class we share and she hangs out with me and my boyfriend, Niall. I can’t label her as an enemy either. She’s just a human cousin that I have to tolerate since we were born in the same year on the same island, Bellpond, which is isolated from the mainland by a long, wide bridge. "Why are you staring at him?" she asks
I curse under my breath and close my eyes, attempting to calm my erratically beating heart that threatens to burst out of my ribcage. I huff, fixating my eyes on the lean figure of my teacher, pacing back and forth along the length of the classroom. The words coming out of her mouth fail to register in my mind, despite all my efforts to comprehend her simple speech. I can feel Jordan's eyes burning into my back. If only I knew what was going on inside his mind. Does he think of me as a creep? Oh, no. As I begin thinking it's impossible not to dwell on what just happened, my mind eases, finally absorbing Mrs. Robinson's words and starting to numb. I let out a yawn and lean forward, resting my lower arms on the cool surface of the desk. I'm ready—any second—to sleep right there. But then the bell rings, and Mrs. Robinson finally seals her lips, leaving the class after one disapproving glance at me. Riley snickers, gathering her bushy hair into a large ponytail. "How long are you goin
My family are the betas of the pack, which means my life is better than the omegas and less stressful than the alphas. When I was young, my grandma would tell me tales of when she was young—of how the pack lived together in one place, a big pack house. The harmony and peace that existed, but she would also soon shift to talks of fights and bloodshed, and that was my cue to pretend I had fallen asleep. My grandma doesn't like how the modern world has changed the ways of how packs work, even though the Silver Crescents never fail to celebrate our pack event every month. We gather in the holy temple of the luna, sing, and eat together, as discreetly as possible. The sun is high up in the sky, blazing down at me. It's a good day, I try to convince myself, pretending to think that the incident in the classroom never happened. The waves rise high and crash onto the irregular rock bed and sandy shores. The sight makes me want to draw out my surfboard and spend hours in the sea. But that's ba
The tree branches are mostly bare. Even as Cole and I hike through the woods, stepping carefully on the stony ground underneath, dry leaves descend from above on us. It never snows in Bellpond, but winter always graces the island. As the cold wind sweeps past us, I see Cole shudder. The temperature has dropped suddenly, and he has declined wearing a jacket even though I advised him to. I offer him my jacket, knowing that my body is naturally adapted to the climate, but he declines politely. "How further is it?" Cole asks me, rubbing his palms together. Under his feet, a dry twig crunches. "I didn't think it would get this cold." "I did tell you it would. Are you sure you don't want the jacket?" "Hmm, yes," he claims through chattering teeth. "We're almost there," I assure him and hear a sigh from behind. After a few more steps, the naked trees surrounding us clear up, and the temple we're looking for comes into view. I'm always mesmerized by its humble beauty. I know that I alwa