Everything was planned, and in one night, ruined. My best friend. My betrothed. Both backstabbed me in the back. But what they don't know is that I have help, and I will live this life again. And I will make sure I get my revenge on the both of them. All Cecelia wanted to do was prove to her father that her and her betrothed Mason were meant to be. After "paying" a shaman to look into the future to say it is meant to be, Cece decides that's not enough and goes on a quest to find Death. She wants to make a deal with him; if Mason and her are true mates, then she will live a long life with him. If not, she wants a do-over, but at WHAT time, or WHEN, Death gets to decide. At the ball, Cece is made aware of her betrothed's betrayal, and is devastated that the affair was made between him and her best friend. After dying from an argument gone very wrong, Death makes an appearance, going back in time.. Cece has a second chance at life. She will make sure EVERYTHING is different. And it will be Mason, and her ex-best friend who will pay.
View MoreWhen I walk in, Death is going through some scrolls, and he's frowning. This is the first time I've seen him like this, and when he looks up at me, his mind seems miles from where I am. "Hello Cecilia." he says, and I glance at him, curiously. "What are you doing?" I ask him, and he waves his arm around, a shiny desk appearing behind him as he places the many scrolls on his desk, careful not to let them fall. "I didn't want to worry you, but it seems like the amount of deaths have been going on an all time high. At first, I didn't know if there was a plague that was slowly taking over the kingdoms, and lands alike, but as I really read through the scrolls, their causes of death were anything but unnatural." he said, and he pinched his nose bridge, as if lessening a headache. "Might I take a look?" I asked, and he shook his head, placing a hand over the scrolls. "Even if you weren't mortal, I couldn't let you look at these. These aren't just the now deaths, these are also
The tension stays long after Queen Calandra and Lucios are gone. I run to catch up to the others, noticing that Xolo, and Lip stand outside of the gates, keeping their gazes focused on the woods, and the area where Mason and the others had popped up. Quill must have ordered them to stand guard, I think to myself, running inside of the estate. I'm not surprised that they're crowded in my father's office as they're busy not only determining Mason's punishment, but they're also trying to figure out how to go about the threat that the Unseelie King poses. From the panicked look of Queen Calandra, and Lucios, the Unseelie King is not one you want as an enemy. As I try to step in, my father turns to me, a distracted look on his face. Everyone continues on with their discussion, and he walks towards me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Daughter, I'm probably going to send you off to the Aztec Isles if this goes wrong." he says, rubbing his forehead with his hand. He looks stressed,
Mason laughs, but he lays on the ground, staring at the ceiling. He says nothing, and I want to shake him, or hit him. "What does the Remmadon Kingdom have planned?" I ask, impatience coloring my tone. Mason notices, and he smiles, showing off his teeth. I notice that there's a dent in some of them, and I remember Quill telling me that my power had melted some of them off. "I'll only give you this information if you get your father to reduce my sentencing." Mason replies, and I run a hand through my hair in exasperation. "I can't believe I'm making deals with a madman." I say, and Mason laughs. "It's only fair to trade; you have something I want, and I have something you need." he replies. Instead of saying anything else, I turn on my heel, and walk off, Mason starting to sing. I know he's forcing himself to be calm and playful, but I can hear the fear, and terror he's trying to suppress. As I walk back up the steps, my father meets me halfway. He freezes, Quill, and Lip o
Quill insists I stay inside the castle to watch over Isadora in case it gets bad. I huff at him, but ignore him, following him and his three other packmates outside the gates. The guards are helping each other up from the grass, one guard having to be propped up against the other one, as his leg is twisted in an odd angle. And though I want to help heal him, I see three figures step closer to us, Mason in the center. Mason looks different; his skin resembles more of himself instead of Fae, the whites of his eyes back to white. Though the ends of his hair is the only thing discolored, even the madness in his eyes has ceased. Whatever Mason has done to break the addiction that he had with the Fae fruit, it worked. But yet he continues to work with them, as two Fae knights flank either side of him. Mason is staring at Quill, then eyeing Cersei, Lip, and Xolo. When his eyes land on me, they become hard, a cold gaze taking over his expression. "Of course, Lady Cecilia would be ou
When we get there, Isadora's bedroom door is already opened, and Alder is running out, his face green as if he wants to vomit. He carries out a metal bucket and says naught as he disappears around the corner. I can hear Isadora letting out some cries, Lockhart trying to assure her. There's a midwife blotting sweat from Isadora's temple, and she holds her hand as she tries to comfort her. The blankets are all but stripped from Isadora, and her giant stomach is in upheaval, moving around. It looks so unnatural, for a moment I think that maybe Isadora bedded a demon instead of a Fae. Stars, if it keeps moving like that, it'll crush her ribs. Lockhart notices me, and he motions for me to stand next to him. I do as he says, and he motions for me to pour the different colored liquids into a vial, stirring them. "It's a numbing elixir. It'll help Isadora combat the pain of this...birth." he explains, and then he faces her as the light shines from his hands once more, leaving and th
We step out the room together, Quill wearing a gray tunic, and long blue pants. He wears his boots that are a little scuffed up. Despite his casual attire, he's smoothed his wild mane of a hair. Despite what he says, I decided to wear a simple blue gown, and since my body is mostly healed, I'm able to wear a top underneath. Wearing matching blue shoes that are flat with no heels, I feel better than I have in days. I place a hand on my hair, still a little self-conscious at the length of it. Quill notices, kissing the top of that hand. "I assure you, my dear, you look beautiful." he says. I want to tell him that that's not what I'm worried about, but then a servant rushes by, carrying small towels, and a bucket of water. At my confused look, and Quill's concerned one, we follow after. I realize the direction that he's going is where Isadora's being kept at. Alarmed, I run after the servant, Alder standing outside her door, wringing his hands. "My lady, it's serious. It's
I know where I'm at when I open my eyes. Death is already waiting for me, a wary look in his eyes. "Oh good. You're back to normal." he says relieved, and I'm confused before I remembered that I tried to dance with him. "Yeah, I wanted to apologize for that. I think that had something to do with the fact that the wolf that bit me is addicted to Fae fruit." I explained, and Death nodded. "Yeah, I figured. Mason's lifeline is a mess. It's coming undone slowly but quickly. If I didn't know better, he's dead but that addiction is making his corpse walk around in the living." Death replied. "About that...what can you tell me about him?" I asked, leaning into what Death had to say. He sighed, materializing two seats for the both of us, as he sits in one, and I in the other. "This whole Fae fruit thing is making him spiral out of control. He has my opposite on edge, and at some point, his heart has stopped twice from him continuing to shovel down that garbage. From what I gathere
"You've spoken with her?" he asks, and he actually sounds relieved. "Of course. I overheard you and my father talking about the plans you have for her." I said, confused at her tone. "I wanted you to know. Your father wanted to keep this as a secret from you. So, when we were speaking about it, I made sure you were there to hear what was going on." he explained, running a hand through his hair. Seeing his expression, and body language, I decide to believe him. "So, what are you going to do with her? She's too big and frail to even be moved." "Lockhart's been trying to heal her. That's why he's not here right now. And he finds it suspicious that a werewolf pregnancy like this could cause so much damage." Quill explains, and I freeze in my seat. "What do you mean?" I asked carefully. Instead of answering my question, Quill leads me off to a less crowded part of the dining room area, pulling a seat to sit across from me. "Lockhart explained that when humans decide to pai
I frown at the sound of that and start to wheel off. My chair makes me feel slow though, and I decide to leave it in the hallway instead, struggling to my feet. My legs shout at me to sit back down, my feet crying. But after a few forced steps, I'm able to half limp half walk to the rooms. I know exactly where Isadora is being kept at; in the furthest rooms of the house, all the way on the east wing. It's barely used, as it was a hindrance to leave and visit the estate. My feet move awkwardly but surely in that direction, waving off the concerned and shocked faces of passing by servants and maids. When I finally see the hallway, I listen in for any servants or anyone really. Leaning against the wall for support, I start to run faster. There are four doors, each cleaned and changed in case visitors, or extended family come for a visit. I look at the under of the cracks of the doors for candlelight, seeing the one in the center with just a faint light. It's locked from the
"Why are you here?" he asked, the black hood covering his face. Cecilia didn't bother to try to answer, knowing what the full hood held. A boy, looking the age of sixteen or seventeen, though he claimed to be ageless. He had silver white hair that looked akin to the coloring of the moon and the palest shade of blood-red eyes she had ever seen. Not many could find him, but Cecilia had always been persistent; she had walked through countless cemeteries, looking for the one in the black hood, and the scythe strapped to his back. This certain cemetery was in the outskirts of her town; headstones littered as far as the eye could see, and the center of it was different from the rest. A small building had been destroyed for unknown purposes, revealing hidden tunnels. No one had traveled through, especially once the gnarled roots of dead trees began to grow over the entrance. But Cecilia was no quitter; she brought a sharpened hatchet and made her way down, traveling by light ...
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