We sat on that balcony for hours. Elsbeth has told me her life as a seer, how hard it was for her to keep her distance from Rikkard and why she was able to conceive me. Apparently, vampires have something they call Dilectus. A soulmate, their beloved... Someone made to complete them. Only one, for the rest of the eternity. A lover to make eternal life less unbearable. They could only conceive with their Dilectus, and that is the only reason our kind has so little members. Many vampires were to be discovered throughout the world. It was only 50 years from now that technology was able to help our kind to find one another, and luckily, our community was growing by the minute. Asten’s job was no game, he was in charge of seeking news all over the world about people with our abilities.
Since I was a hybrid, being born from a seer and a normal vampire, there were many things I could be, or do. I could inherit my mother’s power, or not at all. By telling her about the dreams I had
Kyla had many reasons to run out the door: She’d have to endure a ritual that would hurt the shit out of her for seven whole days, there was an ancient (although very handsome) fella telling her she was the love of his life, her entire life was shit because she was abandoned and now, she had a shit ton of people who came out of thin air calling her family and the last, but not least… There were vampires in the world and she was one of them, who was never meant to be born. Mayhem was numbing her thoughts as she was staring at the beach from her bedroom windows. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Her entire life was planned out and she had no saying in it other than going to college. She’d live practically forever and she hadn’t planned on living that long. She hadn’t planned living as a creature she only read about in books, who were incredibly wrong about their species, by the way. The only thing she could do at that moment was to open the balcony door and put her feet o
Sleeping with both eyes shut was never an option. Not in this hell hole. St. Cadence’s Orphanage was far from being holy. I was abandoned here when I was born, having no recollection on who was the mutt who left me to live a godforsaken life in this place that was supposed to give me shelter. England has its perks; I give you that. Sovereignty gives the orphanage good money for clothes, studies and whatever else we might need until we are eighteen and thrown out on the streets. If we excel in our studies, the top three students get a full scholarship to Oxford University to study whatever we’d like. And I sure as hell will be among those three. ‘Get up, Black. Time for your daily beating section. Best time of my day, watching a hoe like you with your pitiful excuse of a face in the gutter.’
I was always the quiet one. The one who went unnoticed in the middle of the crowd. I wanted to be. There was no need for me to stand out other than having the best grades in class. Making out and showing off were not on my ‘to do’ list. My ‘to do’ list had peculiar things for a 17-year-old. Get the Oxford Scholarship. Graduate in Medicine. Get as far from this place as soon as possible. Get as far from this place as soon as possible. Simple. Until a month before graduation... When Father Phillips' annoying voice came out of the orphanage school's speakers. 'Attention Senior students. Father Phill
The day after, I was released on strict orders to stay in bed for two weeks, eating nothing but soup and light things not to disturb my stomach. Test results came back and I was good to go... Home.Not feeling pain was good. Fast healing was a plus. Only sister Ophelia knew about my perks, so whenever I got hurt (or someone hurt me) I’d fake pain and put bandages over my bruises so I wouldn’t become a lab rat.Or getting a promotion on my status as a punching bag, Clarissa and her minions would have a blast.The week passed slowly. It was neither cold nor hot. It rained a lot, and it made me happy. I never knew why heavy rain and the sound of thunder made my feelings so at ease. It usually brought people to their knees out of fear, but not me, just looking at the black clouds at the horizon filled with l
There I am in the white room again. Why the fuck do I keep dreaming with this? I walk towards the mirror again. My other version is there, but she is not alone. She is on someone’s bed, undressed, asleep. I try to call her, me, and I slap the mirror a few times, as hard as I can, but she does not listen to me. She looks… happy. Someone else approaches the mirror, a tall, blonde figure, not more than forty years old, with only a towel around his waist. I watched every single detail on that handsome fella my other self seems to have slept with. His eyes are a really light brown, almost yellow, even, his skin is slightly tanned, he has a discreet pointy nose, and a gorgeous mouth, even though he has a scar from his left eyebrow that barely skips his eye and goes over his nose and disappears under his right jaw. He looks right at me, making me as red as a tomato. I let my shame go, and knock on t
I got out of the shower, staring at my finger, as it gradually stopped bleeding, unable to stop thinking about the feeling of an actual cut. My finger burned, even though it was a really small cut, but it had a beating, as if my heart was pumping right there on that tiny opening on my hand. I had my finals beginning in two days, and I'd see my classmates for the first time after Sister Ophelia put me in quarantine, as if I had a deadly virus no one could ever get in touch with, only Theo and her.I spent the last two days of lockdown studying. By the next day, the cut in my finger was done, just the scar was left behind, as all other cuts I suffered throughout my life. I couldn’t pay enough attention to the goddamn books, because the pain I felt was unusual. Have I been misdiagnosed? Was CIP curable? Did that mean that I was going to actually suffer when Clarissa beat me up?
+++ Trigger alert! Remember, this book contains serious subjects who might be disturbing for some. This chapter is a tough one. You have been warned. +++ ‘What the fuck are you doing in the dark, Shawn? And what the fuck are you doing in my room?’ Trying to calm myself and heavily breathing, I turned the lights on and took four, maybe five steps back away from him. I crossed my arms, waiting for his response. But he just stared at me, he didn’t say anything. Then I noticed his swollen eyes and red nose. He had been crying. He had both of his arms down, covered on his long sleeves as they always were, but blood was dripping from his fingers. ‘WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOURSELF?’ I screamed. I ran towards him, while he was sliding his back down against the wall, sitting down. ‘She is going to kill you, Ky. I won’t let you go alone.’ ‘No one is doing nothing to anyone. Why the fuck are you with that bitch if you are so worried a
Week was hell. We were done with finals, Shawn’s suicide attempt was the only thing people could talk about and even though everyone that is in here had a sob story, I was the sob story of the week. But I didn’t cry, I couldn’t, even. I felt… numb. Clarissa and Jessica were nowhere to be seen. I didn’t know what to think about it, if it was good I was still alive of if she was researching ways of killing me without leaving traces on the internet. The night before the trip, with my things already packed, Theo and I went to our favorite place: the hill on the back of the castle. It had nothing, but a huge empty field, and grass was mowed that morning, it was perfect to sit there, as we usually did every other day, to stare at the ocean and the beautiful endless horizon, talking about things we’d do once we got out of that place. Graduation party was happening after we got home from Italy. Breathing the summer air and the fresh grass, we sat there in silence for a long time.