“I never thought you were such a prankster.” Zayne chuckled after a few silent seconds and pinched her nose. “You’re not mad?” Layla asked, turning her eyes back to him. “Why would I be mad? As long as I know you aren’t going to that damn place, I’m fine. And that was a really good one. You really got me.” He grinned, poking her cheek. “Whatever you do, make sure you don’t teach my sisters how to play pranks, or else you five will kill me.” “Really? Then I’m a certified prankster.” She giggled, pressing her hand to her lips. “It’s good to be back. I’ve missed you.” “Of course you did. I’m fun to be around, and I’m a very great company.” He boasted, puffing his chest. “Proud as always.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and eyeing him from top to bottom. “You look good. I never thought I would see the day you would dress formal.” He was clad in a custom-made black suit that fitted his figure perfectly, and his hair was slicked back. It was like he walked out of the cover of a to
`Moon Child.`Layla stiffened at the familiar, gentle, baritone voice that seemed to be whispered in her ear. She spun around, careful not to knock the blue vase she was dusting off its stand.Sleep disappeared for her silver eyes, and they darted across the room. It was empty, saved for the numerous vases and urns of different colours and shapes arranged about. As she had expected.It wasn’t the first, second, or third time she had had the experience that day. She had lost count of how many times she had heard the voice, but she always looked over her shoulder.Like she was waiting for someone.‘I just imagined it.’ She thought, biting her bottom lip and turning back to her dusting. ‘I’m so stressed and sleep deprived that I’m now imagining his voice during the day.’It was a mantra she kept telling her each time the voice came. An imagination. She was imagining the voice of one of the men she saw in her dreams as a way her overworked body was using to ease itself.She missed them. T
The man, Alaric, whose voice Layla had heard for two years in her dream, was standing right in front of her, holding her. Was she dreaming? Her heart, pounding like a drum, told her she wasn’t.He was there and wasn’t a normal man. He was a Supernatural. She had been dreaming about a Supernatural all along.“Layla.” Jonas coughed into his fist; his eyes narrowed at her, and hers widened. She stumbled away from the Alaric to the side of the door, creating enough space between them and bowing her head.‘Please let him not punish anyone because of that,’ she thought, fiddling with her fingers.“I’m Jonas Richardson, the owner of this home. Welcome to my humble abode, my Lord and Lady.” Jonas grinned, bowing so deeply that his back almost broke. Even the blind could see the childlike excitement glowing off of him.‘My Lord and Lady?’ Layla cringed at the obvious display of bootlicking but kept her lips shut.“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Alaric D’Arcy and this is Terra Geode.”“The pl
“Is it that you can’t or don’t want to?” Alaric asked, unfazed by Layla’s answer.“Well, um… Mr. Richardson’s won’t let me go because I still owe him a lot of money.” She explained.“What if I paid your debt, then? You would come with us, right?”“You can’t! That would be too generous of you.” She gaped. Why would he pay for her?“I don’t mind, and I’m sure the Headmaster won’t either.” He shrugged. “So if I do, will you? Or is there anything else holding you back?”“Well… I…” Layla bit her bottom lips as the words formed in her mouth. But she couldn’t say them. She averted her gaze from Alaric’s piercing ones and stared at the ground. The words were begging to come out, but could she say them? They were strangers, Supernaturals, and Terra seemed to dislike her. Would they care about what human maids were going through?“Terra, can you excuse us for a moment?” Alaric said.“But sir!”“Please, give me a few minutes with her.” His voice sounded like he was asking her for permission, but
‘He kissed my hand,’ Layla said, holding the back of her hand to her face, imagining Alaric’s soft lips on her skin.‘He kissed my hand!’ She squeezed her lips together, trying to hold back a squeal as she blushed.‘It means nothing! It means nothing.’ She pressed her hands against her cheeks and scolded herself. ‘He’s just nice. Really nice. He’s just taken pity on a poor human girl.’She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Deluding herself into thinking he was the slightest bit interested in her was stupid. He was going to be her teacher; surely there were rules about crushing on a teacher even in a magical world.Layla sighed, taking off her hoodie and letting her silver hair free. Terra had insisted she kept her hair for the reason that she wasn’t ready to cause commotion among the students who would see her. Layla couldn’t understand why her hair was such a big deal.She took her box and opened it. There was nothing much in it, just a few worn-out clothes and other person
Layla knew she should listen to Headmaster Brenton’s speech, but she just couldn’t concentrate, no matter how hard she tried. Her body still throbbed, and though it wasn’t as painful as before, it was still distracting. But it wasn’t as distracting as her main thought. What had happened to her? ‘Zayne didn’t touch me, but I’m sure he caused it. What did he do? Cast a spell on me? I don’t think so. The only thing he said was, I do not accept you as my mate—’ Pain shot through her body as the memory flashed through her mind. She grabbed her chest, almost gasping aloud. ‘That’s it. That’s what caused the pain. His rejection! He rejected me! Why? Is it because I’m human?’ She blinked away the tears that had begun to form. His rejection hurt. She didn’t know what a mate was or why he didn’t want her to be his, but it hurt. Just thinking about it made it seem she was choking, like the air had become impossible to breathe and she was dying of suffocation. Layla’s gaze flickered
Not even a spark glowed from the crystals. They stood as dull as the moment before Layla touched the largest one and even seemed duller. Murmurs and whispers rose up from the auditorium, and multiple lips sneered at her. She dropped her hand and bowed her head, tears pricking in her eyes. She stepped away from the crystals, wanting to bolt to the door to run from it all. To where? She had nowhere to go. She knew no one. “Silent!” Headmaster Brenton’s voice boomed through the auditorium, and a hush fell. “You’re Layla Dele, the human girl?” he said as he walked to her and scrutinized her. “Yes, sir.” She nodded. What was he going to say? Mock her? Pity her? Was he going to kick her out? “I sense great power inside you,” he mused, and she stiffened. He did? Was that what Alaric had talked about? “But I also feel a block.” He pressed his thumb on her forehead and mumbled some strange words. Layla gasped, sucking in air, as if she were pulled out of water, and a co
Human? No. Layla couldn’t call herself a human. No human could do what she did. A witch, then? There were witches in her world, but was she one? What she did couldn’t be called witchcraft, could it? No, that didn’t feel right. Then what was she if she wasn’t one of the creatures in the new world? “You’re sure you don’t know what you are?” Boris quipped a brow, and she shook her head again. The four exchanged strange looks and hushed words. “I’ll try to say it as simply as possible,” Demeter said, folding her hands on the table. “You’re one of the two Children of Iniquity, the Child of Darkness. A malevolent creature of evil that appears in our world once in a while.” ‘Me? A malevolent creature of evil? That’s not possible. There has to be a mistake somewhere.’ She wanted to argue. She wasn’t calling herself a saint, but evil wasn’t a word she would associate herself with. She tried to be at peace with all people, no matter how annoying they were. Sweetheart? Yes. Nice? Also yes.