CharlieSleep was peaceful and I guess much needed as I slept late into the day. Maxwell didn’t bother to wake me and now I’m left with little time before the presentation begins.“You’re nervous, I understand, but nothing terrible is going to happen.” Maxwell rubs my arms, trying to calm me.“What exactly is going to happen? I mean, what’s the purpose of this presentation anyways?” Part of me wants to know and the other part of me is scared to death to find out.“Think of this as our engagement celebration.”“Engagement celebration, but you didn’t ask me to marry you.” Marriage? He’s comparing this to marriage.“I can if that will make it easier for you. You’re my bride, Charlie, in the eyes of vampires and in human terms.”“A dead bride, not a bride in a gorgeous white dress.”“Is that what you want? To walk down the aisle in a white dress in front of every single person you know?”“Maybe. Is that so hard to believe?“No.” He remains silent for a bit. I’m just about to say something

CharlieI stomp my way over to my suitcase and throw any loose articles in before I harshly zip it up. Great one, Charlie, try not to be a complete bitch and still get scorned. I mean, who would look twice at me with Stella in the room? She has similarities to mine, but they look better on her. She’s skinnier, taller, more mature looking, and the best attribute she has is that she’s already dead. I deserve this, I tell myself.Sitting on the corner of the bed, I allow my head to fall into my hands. I can feel fresh, warm blood seep through my bandages and smear on my face, mixing with my tears. In the middle of arguing with myself, the pounding starts again. I didn’t bother listening to Maxwell’s speech. Part of me doesn’t want to hear his apologetic words as that same part of me believes what he says to be more lies.I laugh to myself as I hear him threaten to break down the door. But he’s completely serious because seconds later he crashes through the door. Splinters of wood scatter

CharlieWe reach Grace’s door and I’m just about to knock when Maxwell grabs my hand to stop me. “What?”“Let’s go downstairs to the party. We’ll surprise Grace there.” He can’t hide his emotions from me. I see concern etched into his features, tense lips and narrowed brows.“What are you not telling me?”“She has company and I think it’s best not to disrupt them.”“Who?” I know he knows who’s in there.“Benjamin,” he reluctantly says.“Is he being cruel to Grace?” After hearing that Benjamin takes advantage of Grace, I can’t help but want to give him a piece of my mind. Not to mention the pissed off part of me that wants to call him out on sending Stella to our room.“He’s in the middle of scolding Grace and it wouldn’t be best to make things worse.” His eyes are cast down to the floor.“What!” I bellow. Maxwell’s hand clamps across my mouth to keep me silent.“He’s yelling at her because she let us leave. Even though she’s not loyal to him, he still demands her to be. In the eyes of

CharlieUtter joy rushes through my body when The High Council plane’s engines hum to life. I sit in the same windowless window seat, Maxwell’s statue-like body next to me. As we soar into the sky, I can’t help but to be glad that we’re leaving the Posthotel Rattenberg behind…forever preferably.Maxwell’s ice-cold fingers graze my cheek pulling me away from my wandering mind. “Yes?”With a flick of his wrist, my phone comes into view. His fingers clutch down on it, leaving fingerprints on the screen. With manic relief I harshly rip it out of his hand and instantly turn it on. Dread and fear turn my annoyed attitude into something more, much more. “Thirty-six missed calls…fifty text messages. I didn’t think it was possible to make things worse, but congratulations, you’ve done it.” Under my breath I mutter. “That’s definitely something to be proud of.”“I strive to excel at everything.”“I’m sure you do.” I say in a hushed whisper. I want to be angry, but sadly that’s not the first emo

CharlieWhy is he even trying to be a gentleman? He said it himself, one way or another I will be his. Lying in bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, just allows me to ponder my sense of despair more than I wish. It forces me to sit wide awake in my dark room, obsessing about Maxwell. How I want him to touch me, how I want to hear him say my name one more time.The worst part is that I’m not sure if that’s me wanting that or this stupid bond.When I jolt awake from my alarm clock, I realize I must have fallen asleep, although I’m not sure at what hour the exhaustion took over. Moving my tired heavy limbs, I gradually get ready for work. I used to love work, that’s until Morgan actively became team Maxwell. I highly doubt she would be praising him so much if she knew he was dead.The whole car ride my brain tries to register what my dear ancestors had me born into. Did they seriously think Maxwell wouldn’t come looking for what he thinks is his? A shiver runs down my spine. Maxwe