STAR CROSSED LOVES
The Havenmoor Chronicles Volume One
By Angelica Twilight
All rights reserved copyright 2012 by Polaris Young Adult Productions
ETHAN AND THE MOON
PETYR’S GHOST
BLOOD AND BREAD
ROSEMARY’S ANGEL
ELLIE’S SPELL
ETHAN AND THE MOON
A Werewolf Romance Short Story
Star Crossed Loves Book One
by Angelica Twilight
all rights reserved copyright 2012 by Polaris Young Adult Productions
Pain. The unbearable agony as fire ripped through my body. Barely coherent, screaming and crying, wishing it would just stop. Praying and shouting; rolling on the floor with my head in my hands. I found relief when I slipped into darkness. I jerked into consciousness, my ears ringing with my scream. Untangling myself from my covers proved difficult and I finally stumbled to the bathroom, drinking water greedily. I slid down the tiled wall, tipping my head back in an effort to soothe the pounding in my head. I hated it. I really hated it. Today was by far one of the worst I had experienced for a long time; I couldn’t stop being sick and no matter which painkillers I took, the headache remained strong. I normally got ill the day before the full moon but most months, I could get on with it, and hardly ever missed school. This morning had been different and I’d had to accept that there was no way I could make it to school. It sucked majorly; not only could I not see Torroline and my friends but I was missing one of the biggest football games this semester.
Somehow, I managed to pull myself up. I stood hovering, wondering if I would be able to handle a shower. Deciding against it, I made my way back to my room, climbing under the covers and waiting for sleep. I wished that the nightmares wouldn’t come back again; that I would be able to get some decent sleep before tonight. But wishes never come true, do they?
The next time I awoke, Torri was sitting on the end of my bed, texting quietly on her phone. “Hey, Torri,” I smiled weakly and shifted into a sitting position, reaching across to take her hand.
She looked up, tucking a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear and leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Hey Baby.” She ruffled my hair and curled up around my side, fingers rubbing slow circles against the palm of my hand.
We lay like that for a long while before I had to get up, barely making it to the bathroom on time. Coughing, I flushed the toilet and dragged myself up to the sink, brushing my teeth and splashing my face. I inspected my features in the mirror. My eyes were dulled; now more of a greenish-black, my hair was sticking up in odd places- a result of my tossing and turning. I tried to avoid anyone, seeing me as the day progressed into the night of the full moon. Because, the later it got, the worse I looked until it happened. My face was gaunt and pale, and there were dark bruises under my eyes.
I turned to see Torri behind me; she looked worried and was biting a manicured fingernail. “Hey, stop that,” I smiled and reached for her hand, letting her pull me back to bed.
I must have drifted back into sleep, because it was dark when I jerked up and my body was already beginning to cramp with pain; the headache was almost unbearable.
“Ethan?” There was a rustling behind me and then Torri’s cold fingers brushed against my flushed skin. It felt so good but I couldn’t relax. I needed her to get out of here, as soon as possible.
“It’s getting late, Torri. Maybe you should head off home and I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” I fought to keep my voice calm.
“Don’t be silly,” she ran her fingertips down my cheek. “You’re burning up. Maybe I should take you to the hospital,” she said worriedly, biting her lip.
No, no, no. That was the last thing I needed right now. “Torri, go home.” I said slowly, wrapping my arms around my knees. I needed to get her home. Hell, I needed to get out of here, needed to get to the forest, to the house. I needed to make sure I wouldn’t hurt anyone.
When it became clear that no amount of pushing or pleading was going to make Torri go home, I stood sharply and ran from the room, from the house. That was the one good thing about the change. When I was in transition, my senses were already heightened; it meant I could run faster, and could hear if Torri tried to follow me. I made it to the house, almost knocking the door off its hinges in my hurry. The pain was so bad that I crawled across the floor, to the door leading to the basement, letting myself drop through. I landed on my back on the cold floor but it was nothing compared to the agony running through my body. My vision was blurring as I grabbed the chains that were attached to the wall. They were like shackles and I clamped them around both of my ankles before doing my wrists. Letting out a single sigh of relief, I crumpled to the floor, screaming and sobbing as my body changed. Bones cracked and splintered, reshaping into longer limbs. My jaw broke as fangs filled my mouth; I heard the unmistakable snap as my spine elongated. And when it was nearly over, when my vision blurred with my new eyes and my animal instincts took over, I saw Torri standing at the doorway, mouth agape in horror.
When I came to, the first thing on my mind was how much my whole body hurt. With a pained grunt, I crawled to the corner of the room, just able to reach the keys for the shackles. I undid them and slumped against the wall, breathing raggedly and pulling over a backpack. Luckily, it hadn’t been ripped or destroyed during the change. The watch in there told me that I’d been out for twelve or so hours; I’d been a wolf for about ten of them. I opened the water and painkillers next, finishing the whole bottle, taking the three little tablets that had been left from last time.
When the worst of the pain was gone and I just felt exhausted, I found the clothes at the bottom of the bag, and pulled on my jeans and a shirt. I’d forgotten shoes, but I didn’t care. I pushed the bag back into the corner and told myself that I needed to refill it before next time.
Stumbling to my feet, I grimaced and rubbed my forehead, and clambered wearily up the ladder and into the brightness of the house. I rubbed my eyes and froze. The girl sitting on the sofa had her back to me but I could tell immediately who it was. “Torri...” I croaked eyes wide. I vaguely remembered last night, although not much after bolting from the house. Had she been there? She must have followed me but how much had she seen?
I took a step forward and she turned to face me; her eyes were red and bloodshot, her hair messy and unkempt. One look at her face and I could see it. I could see it in her eyes, in her posture. She was scared, confused.
“What are you?” she asked, her voice merely a whisper. She wasn’t recoiling in disgust or anger but the words were soft, like she couldn’t believe it. Even after years, I can’t even believe it.
“I’m a werewolf.” I murmured, staying where I was for fear of scaring her off. “But Torri...I’m still the same person. I’m still me. I’m still Ethan Miller, age seventeen. I still love you,” I whispered, my voice pained. It would all ride on what she said next.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” she screamed and stepped forward.
I couldn’t find an answer because I was too busy laughing in relief. She wasn’t angry that I was a werewolf. She was angry that I hadn’t told her!
When I’d stopped laughing and wiped my eyes, I took her hand tentatively. She grimaced slightly but didn’t let go. “Because you saw what happened. I didn’t want you to be in any danger. I could hurt you and...”
“You didn’t want me to see you in pain,” she finished in a whisper and I nodded. She looked like she was about to say more but I was swaying on my feet at this point and I really just wanted to go home.
&nb
sp; She clamped her lips shut and put a hand between my shoulder blades. “Home,” she murmured and led me from the house.
We didn’t talk the whole way, although I was trying desperately to think through what I would tell her. How I could explain it to her. I simply decided on the truth. It was time she knew anyway. Besides that, I wanted to tell someone. I needed to tell someone.
She helped me to my room and I curled under the covers, yawning. “I want to talk to you,” I said sleepily, but she shook her head, sitting on the bottom of the bed and patting my knee.
”Sleep first,” she smiled and I closed my eyes.
“Mmm.” I awoke with a smile, caught in that transition between consciousness and sleep. Everything was warm and soft; my body was barely aching anymore. And then I shot up, heart pounding. She was gone. Torri wasn’t next to me; she had left. I should have told her, rather than have her find out that way.
I clambered out of bed, eyes wide as tears pooled in my eyes. I was at the bedroom door when it opened from the outside and I stumbled back. “Torri!” I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face against her hair.
She patted my back; “You didn’t think I would leave, did you?” she pulled back and lay on my bed. “I just went to get you something to eat.” She held up a plate. “I thought you might need it.”
Rubbing my cheeks, I slid next to her and took the plate. ”Thank you,” I said gratefully; I was hungry. I ate quickly, barely stopping to breathe. But hey, it had been almost two days without food and the change took a lot out of me each time. When I’d finished, she handed me a glass of water and I smiled, thanking her again. She really had thought of everything.
Putting the things on the bedside cabinet, I shuffled forward so that my head was on the pillow instead of the headboard. I opened my arm and Torri curled up next to me, with her head on my chest. I played with a strand of her hair; curling it around my finger and watching it change to different shades of gold in the light.
She spoke first, “When did it happen?” she asked softly, fingers rubbing patterns on my stomach. I swallowed, closing my eyes.
“I didn’t lie to you. I am seventeen; I still age. I was seven, and on a camping trip with my family.” I used my free hand to cover my eyes while I composed my voice. “You’ve always wondered why I have no parents, haven’t you? But yet you’ve never asked. I know that you haven’t wanted to intrude, or upset me, but now I’m going to tell you everything.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. She kissed my cheek softly, her breath soothing against my neck, and although she said nothing, I was grateful for it.
“So we were all in separate tents; me in one, my sister in another and my parents in the last one. We’d been plenty of times before so we weren’t worried. It was nice. I always enjoyed it. We’d play cards and roast marshmallows. That’s where I had my first smore.” I smiled at the memory but it quickly dropped. “It was when everyone was sleeping that I first heard the howls. I was still awake, playing on my Play Station; I was kinda spoiled.” I chuckled slightly, “And I climbed out of my tent. I was curious, you know? I loved fantasy. I was just a kid.” I sighed, my voice wavering. “Anyway, I was part way into the forest, trying to find the source of the howls. I just wanted to see them,” I whispered, “And I did. I heard screams; so many screams, and then nothing. Instinct told me to stay where I was. The fact that I stayed there so long probably saved my life to be honest.” I was crying freely by now, and the tears were dripping down my face. “I was nearly where we’d put the tents up when something shoved me back. The wolf was massive; black and heavy. He bit into my shoulder a few times, and it hurt so badly. I was on the verge of passing out when I heard the shots ring out. A man who lived by the forest had heard the screams. I’d blacked out soon after so I never had to look at the...bodies. I’m glad about that. The wolves had killed them all.”
It was getting harder to speak by now and I hurried on, “Anyway, I ended up in the hospital, being shipped around from relative to relative until I was sixteen. Now I’ve found a way to hide what happens. Or...well, I thought I had. ”I sighed and Torri shifted, kissing my forehead and pulling me against her.
“That’s so horrible, Baby,” she whispered, running her fingers through my hair. She let me cry, whispering reassurances in my ears, telling me that she loved me, over and over.
Finally, when I stopped, I could ask the question I’d been wondering since I had woken up. “Are you going to leave me?” I asked, trying not to let my face crumple in case the only reason she wanted to stay with me was out of pity.
Shaking her head, she pulled me tighter to her. “No. I’m not. I’m going to help you every single time this happens. I’m going to be there for you when you wake up; I’m going to make sure that you’re not alone. No one should have to go through that alone,” she said fiercely and I closed my eyes, relaxing.
Maybe she was right. I didn’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.
PETYR’S GHOST
A Paranormal Romance Short Story
Star Crossed Loves Book Two
by Angelica Twilight
all rights reserved copyright 2012 by Polaris Young Adult Productions
I’m crazy. That’s the only explanation that I can come up with. I can’t think anything else, I can’t. Because who wants to see their boyfriend following them wherever they go? I mean their dead boyfriend.It started a month or so after the funeral, I’d been at home in bed. My mom was pretty lenient on me staying home from school after it happened, so she’d gone to work and left me, telling me to call if I needed her. I’d been sitting on my bed, the TV buzzing in the background as I doodled pictures of nothing. It was the first time since Petyr had died that I’d had any urge to draw and the urge had dissipated quickly.
I hurled my sketchbook at the wall and buried my face in my hands. I’d been crying for God knows how long when I heard a voice. That was it at first, just a voice calling my name. My first thought was that my mom had come home, so I walked over to the window. Her car wasn’t there so I shrugged and turned the TV up, trying to focus on the colors and sounds and not let myself think how it had sounded remarkably like his voice.
But then it came again and my head jerked up. I was scared; who wouldn’t be? I was frozen to my spot, trying to summon the courage to speak. “Petyr?” I finally croaked, clutching a pillow to my chest. Nothing else happened that day but during the weeks that followed, I would continuingly hear his voice (mainly just saying my name, but I could kid myself that I heard ‘I love you’ a few times.) It had gotten to the point where I thought I could see him. Standing in the corner of my room, hovering over my shoulder in art, watching me wherever I went.
I’d told no one, knowing that they would send me straight into therapy, and that was something I’d been wanting to avoid ever since my mom brought it up a few days after the funeral. I didn’t need anyone to get into my head; I was already doing fine living inside there all by myself.
“Mia.” I was pulled out of my thoughts as my name was called. Thinking that it was Petyr, or well, my imagining Petyr, I balked.
“Miss Cooper, the answer?” Mr. Lewis asked. Not Petyr then.
“Sorry Sir. I... ”
“Say 45.”
My pathetic attempt at an apology was cut off as a voice sounded behind me. It was Petyr.
“45, sir,” I said with barely any hesitation. I watched as he scrutinized me.
“Very well. At least try and look like you’re paying attention in the future.”
I nodded and dutifully wrote down the notes and questions I needed to, trying not to think about what had happened. Now my mind was supplying me with answers to questions that I hadn’t even listened to.
I left math in a hurry; art was next so I knew that he would be there. He was always there for my favorite lesson.
I really need to stop saying he. Okay, my mind always conjures up my dead boyfriend during my favorite lesson. Much better, I thought, wondering if I
really was going mad.
I arrived before the bell and slid into my seat, pulling my sketchbook out from my bag. We were doing individual projects this semester and I’d focused mine around fantasy, slightly ironic, now I thought about it. I took out my charcoals and proceeded to carry on with the drawing of a forest I was doing. If you looked closely, you could see little bursts of yellow, hidden within the trees. It wasn’t exactly one of my best pieces of work I had done, but my heart hadn’t been in for months now.
“That’s pretty.” A voice sounded next to me. I had the desk to myself, so it was painfully obvious who it was. I said nothing, just pushed my face further to the desk and smudged a delicate line with my finger. Why wouldn’t it just stop? It wasn’t bad enough that my boyfriend was dead but I had to see him every day; hear him speak when I knew it wasn’t real, and he wasn’t there.
Without realizing, I had risen from my seat, and was staring at the figure on the chair. “Stop it.” I hissed. “Just stop it.” Great; now I was talking to myself.
I swear that he looked hurt, like I’d slapped him across the face or something. He rose from the chair and I took a step back. “It’s cruel. Petyr’s dead. Dead. Why...” I whispered to myself, tears pooling in my eyes.
“Look... come outside, into the corridor.” His voice was almost pleading, like he thought I was about to go crazy and start throwing desks around. Okay, so maybe I had been, but even so.
I tuned away from him and walked to the teachers’ desk, asking if I could be excused because I wasn’t feeling well.
“Sure Mia, take your stuff with you, okay?”
With a small smile and a nod, I hurried from the classroom, walking swiftly in the direction of the nurses’ office.
“Mia! Mia, stop please. Let me talk to you. Let me explain.”
I whirled around angrily, “I already know what’s going on,”
“You do?” his face was relieved.
I carried on as if I hadn’t heard him, “I’m going crazy, have been for a while now. But I want it to stop. It’s not fair, he’s dead and now I have to see him knowing he’s not here anymore!” I shouted, tears dripping steadily down my cheeks.
STAR CROSSED LOVES: The Havenmoor Chronicles Volume One Page 1