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Red (VonRouge Book 1)

Page 5

by Jacqueline Noir


  As the witch processed what the girl was saying, she spun around, coming face to face with the girl. The moonlight shined just right, illuminating her smile. It took a moment but the witch soon realized what she was looking at; in her mouth, her incisors had elongated into fangs, smeared in blood. Blood that dripped down the girl’s lips. It took only a second, but the witch recognized what the girl really was; a creature who the witch’s own mother told stories of; a creature who made up the witches nightmares.

  The witch ran off, escaping the immortal girl who drank blood. The girl did not chase after her though; she simply tipped her head to the side and exhaled in pity. For the witch would live a life without the one she thought was her true love. That in itself was punishment enough.

  As the sun started to peek over the mountaintops, the girl turned back to her love. He had shifted back into his own skin and stood there motionless, afraid to break the silence. He had always known of her secret, as she drank from him the first night they made love, yet he’d never revealed his true self. Afraid of her reaction, he stood still, taking short breaths.

  Finally, he explained that he had been afraid to reveal himself since wolves were often looked down upon. Thought of as nothing more than glorified animals in their world. He confessed how the witch tried to break them apart. He found himself getting angry on a level he never experienced and looking at his hands, he saw his claws extending where his nails should be.

  Quickly, he looked up to see his lover’s reaction. She surprised him by taking his hand, laying a kiss on each claw. That day as the sun rose, the couple bit into each other’s skin, claiming the other as their own. The mating bonded them deeper than they thought possible and with his bite, the girl received something far greater than either could have imagined.

  Nine months later, on the night of a full moon, the two young lovers welcomed into the world their first child. A daughter whose eyes were golden brown but changed to crimson when the moonlight shined into them. She was the first and only hybrid to live amongst the wolves, witches and vampires.

  “That my dear, is the legend of the creatures that roam the forest at night, just as I’m sure your mother told you.” My aunt finishes up with a final tug on my hair and a kiss to my forehead.

  “What was her name?” I ask, realizing I’ve never asked the question before.

  “Excuse me hun?” My aunt seems confused by my question.

  “The girl that fell in love with the wolf. What was her name?” For some reason, it feels imperative that I know her name now.

  My aunt takes a moment to answer. “Her name was Elena VonRouge,” Aunt Tasha speaks her name without emotion. It’s clear she is gauging my reaction.

  With a deep breath, I let the name roll around in my mind. Elena VonRouge. Clearly, she was my ancestor. That explains why everyone always called this my family’s story. Not like I believe that the story holds any real merit. It is simply a story that Elena probably told all those generations ago to her daughter and grandchildren as a nighttime tale of an indestructible love, and over time her name must have stuck as the girl that drank blood.

  That has to be it, this is just a story.

  My mind taunts me with flashes of gray eyes, captivating as lightening in the night sky. The memory of his gaze causes a pulsing in my head. Something trying to force itself forward.

  Maybe her wolf and your wolf are not so different.

  But my wolf is a delusion of my vivid imagination. He has to be. My life is not like Elena’s; there is no true love. Werewolf or human.

  Why does that thought make my chest feel hollow?

  “Why did you want to know Sadie?” My aunt probes again.

  “No reason. The girl just seemed remarkable,” I say, mustering up a smile.

  I hope one day I have a life that remarkable, a love that powerful. A love that’s enough to surpass even the strangest of hurdles.

  Maybe one day my family will tell stories of my great love . . . yeah right.

  Chapter 4

  The rest of the week takes an odd turn. My wolf no longer appears in my dreams. My head hurts trying to think of what changed.

  Why did he stop coming?

  Better question: shouldn’t I be happy that these dreams have stopped? Yeah, I should, but my body seems to be on overdrive without my “sessions” to help bring me release. My pathetic attempts at doing it myself only leave me needing more. My body acts like it is still going through changes. Every inch of skin burns like it is too tight and my lungs ache, as if I’m never getting enough air.

  Sitting on the windowsill in my room, I try to draw to pass the time.

  I still have no answers as to what’s actually happening to me, but after a lot of thinking over these last few days, I’ve come to the following conclusions:

  That guy is real. My brain didn’t create him. Not only that, but he’s really a . . . a . . . I take a deep breath and finally force myself to admit it.

  He’s a werewolf.

  With that being the case it brings me to the next conclusion: he definitely bit me, and his bite is the reason all of this happening. If everything I’ve read is true, then it would mean that I’m probably turning into a . . . a . . .

  My mind won’t allow itself to go there.

  Some conclusions are too big, too scary, for me to jump to. That one right there is too much. It’s the type of conclusion one should box away to never see the light of day again, only bringing it out when absolute proof leaves you with no choice but to accept it.

  Just like you lied to yourself about that guy at first, my mind reminds me.

  I look out into the forest and wonder where my wolf is.

  Yes, I have illogically moved to the point of calling him “mine”. I can’t control it. It’s a strange thing, like there’s some kind of bond connecting me to him on every level—physically, mentally. I don’t know where he is, but I can sense him out there.

  After the second day passed, and he hadn’t shown up again, my first thought was to be worried something had happened to him. An odd panic flared up, but it quickly vanished, like my body was smothering that idea. A feeling deep within told me he was alright; that he was safe. The reassurance felt like a double-edged sword; my mind questioned where he was. Did he decide to leave me alone and go find another girl to bite?

  Another girl’s skin to mark.

  Another girl to touch, kiss . . . lick.

  The pencil in my hand snaps in half.

  Skin hot, I pant, a weird rumble building in the pit of my chest, aggression building and building inside me . . . just like it did the first time the thought occurred to me.

  Obviously, that’s when I began illogically thinking of that man—beast—as mine.

  My mind continues to battle with my heart over what I’m experiencing. Are these feelings real or a figment of an over-tired imagination? One good thing came out of his absence: my sleep patterns have returned to normal.

  Aunt Tasha has started coming to my room to check on me every night, too.

  I pretend to fall asleep while she watches over me, and every night she does the same thing. She gets out of the bed carefully as if not to wake me. I peek my eyes open enough to see her walk to my window, looking out toward the woods. More than once I’ve heard her whispering “I pray this isn’t true,” her tone is sad and filled with worry.

  What “this” is, I’m unsure of, but every time she says it, I’m reminded about that story and the werewolf in it.

  And then I’m reminded of the werewolf that bit me.

  My stomach tightens with fear.

  Am I becoming like him—a werewolf? Is that really what all these changes in me mean? No. This can’t be happening to me. I’m supposed to start school tomorrow. I try to focus on that instead. The thought of starting college should have me experiencing something . . . nerves, excitement. Or maybe I should be stressing about what to wear. Even the fear that I might turn into a big hairy creature and maul every student there?
r />   Instead I’m numb; like my life is on pause. Raising my hand to the cold windowpane, hoping my silent gesture will reach my wolf, I search through the forest. My mind thinks back to the night I met him out there in those very woods. I can’t stop thinking about him no matter what I do. There was just something about him that drew me in, even when I’d been terrified of him.

  And it wasn’t just because he’d changed into a man. When I looked into his gray eyes, I’d seen the truth of who he was.

  He was dark. He was absolutely dangerous.

  And I knew that, no matter what I did . . . I would never be able to get rid of him.

  So where the hell is he?

  Casterton College is just like the rest of the town, nestled away in the safety of the mountains, surrounded by acres of endless, dark forest. The color green is as far as the eye can see, and the morning fog is thicker than it had been since I arrived. I squint up at the ridiculously dark sky. It looks like its seconds away from raining.

  Fine by me. The darker it is outside, hopefully the less people will notice the bags under my eyes. Then again, I’m sure someone will stare long enough at the new girl to see them.

  Just freaking great.

  I savor these last few seconds of obscurity from within the safety of the blue hard-top jeep my Aunt gave to me. Students mill around the parking lot, on the picnic tables and the front steps of the school. There are the usual suspects, like the jocks and cheerleaders, but overall everyone appears normal.

  According to Aunt Tasha, all the students from the high school move up to the college as if it was another grade. It’s rare someone leaves this town, so college is ultimately just an extension of their high school.

  I glance down at the clock and it reads 7:45AM, which means I have to leave the confines of this vehicle.

  As I make my way towards the school, a few heads turn in my direction, but overall there is no cliché grand entrance—thank goodness, since I try to avoid attention. Any type. Since I’m the new girl, I’m guaranteed lots of it in this small town. It is an awful unspoken rule. Dressed in dark jeans, a black long-sleeved thermal and my gray pea coat, it should be easier to blend in. Even my Chucks are a boring classic black pair.

  Going up the steps into the school, I notice that people turn their heads to follow me, what seems like recognition flashing in their eyes.

  Weird. I don’t know anyone here.

  Hiking my shoulder bag up higher, I climb the stairs and enter the building through two giant wooden doors. One thing I will give this college credit for is having such an extravagant campus. There is only one way in and out, through giant wooden doors decorated with wrought, iron detailing. Tall matching, iron fencing extends out and back toward the mountain, bordering the entire school.

  The steps lead inside to a giant grass area with tables surrounded by a three story stone building. My aunt told me that the classrooms are on the first two levels and the dorms are on the third. It all appears very old and medieval in a sense. I can see the tips of some smaller buildings just through the stone archways at the back of campus.

  My eyes return to the third story of the campus and stay glued there. A twinge of jealousy for those experiencing dorm life forms a dull ache in my chest. I’d always imagined I’d get to go away for college; that I would be one of those students staying in the dorms and having the full college experience.

  After my parents passed away, there was very little money left to help me with college so I decided to stay with Aunt Tasha to help keep expenses down. To be honest though, staying with my aunt is more like my own security blanket. I’m not completely ready to let go of the feeling that someone is still there to take care of me. Aunt Tasha needs me and I need her.

  The latter seems to outweigh the first.

  Right now, I’m silently thanking my aunt for grabbing my schedule and a map of the school so I know where to go. Translating the map to real life with students is a tad more difficult, but finding the pre-calculus class is not as bad as it could have been. Since I missed freshman orientation while I was recovering from the wolf attack, I have to get each teacher to sign off on my first day and get my books from them.

  Apparently, Casterton College does things a little differently than most colleges I’ve heard about or have seen on TV. Shrugging, I head to the first math class, starting my journey towards an accounting degree.

  When I slip my schedule to the teacher for his signature, he introduces himself as Professor Riley. He seems kind of young to be a professor? He points out a seat toward the back of the lecture hall. He seems nice but quiet, barely speaking to me or offering a greeting. His eyes look glazed over as he holds out a textbook for me.

  I try to take the textbook but Professor Riley holds on tight. That vacant, unfocused stare is starting to freak me out and I just want to go hide at the back of the lecture hall.

  I wait a second before tugging harder. Shaking his head as if coming back to the moment, he releases the book and offers a warm smile as if nothing odd just happened.

  Did that just happened? Crap, I can’t lose it here, too.

  Just act normal. Nothing freaky is going on. You’re safe here.

  Giving him the best smile I can, I quickly tuck the book into my arms and scurry up the steps to take a seat.

  My heart races as I try to catch my breath. I’m starting to get paranoid and I have to chill the hell out. I can’t let the weirdness of the last few weeks affect my school days.

  I take my seat. The small lecture hall is pretty much empty except for a few students who are also trickling in early. There’s at least twenty minutes left before class starts. I pull out my drawing pad to work on my latest sketch—a pair of eyes.

  The same, gray eyes that haunt both my nightmares and my daydreams.

  Off in my own world, I don’t notice most of the class has filled their seats until Professor Riley starts up his Powerpoint presentation. A few stray students quickly dash into the room.

  Once everyone is settled in, the professor rises from his desk. “Good morning, everyone. Welcome to Pre-calculus.” Professor Riley’s voice quiets down the class. “First off—” He’s interrupted by the door in the back of the room opening. “Ah Mr. Snow . . . thank you so much for joining us today.” Professor Riley welcomes the student with clear sarcasm.

  Snow? Wait. As in the last name of my doctor at the hospital?

  Biting the top of my pencil, I fight the urge to turn around and stare like most of the class is currently doing. The girls in front of me look like their tongues might roll out of their mouths, and I’m pretty sure the guy to the left of them is puffing out his chest a bit.

  I haven’t seen this Mr. Snow yet, but one thing is obvious: all the girls want him and all the guys want to be him.

  Jesus, the girls look ready to rip their clothes off. I’m a little disgusted by their behavior. Their eyes follow him all the way down the steps.

  Until he stops at my level. With my next breath, I catch the aroma of leather and a woodsy scent that makes my mouth water. My lips part, needing a taste. The scent drags into my lungs, desire explodes through my veins with each inhale. This starvation begins to claw at me. I need more.

  The guy—Mr. Snow—settles into the chair beside me. I can sense his energy coating the class. There is something about his name though that nags at me. Could he possibly be related to the doctor? I’m aching to get a look at this new guy; my curiosity is eating at me to just turn my head. I chew on the corner of my lip.

  “Relax, Professor. I couldn’t very well miss this special day. Now could I?”

  Holy shit!

  That voice.

  Heat explodes through me and it feels like my heart stops completely. My fists clench.

  No.

  A low chuckle reaches my ears.

  I remember that voice!

  My eyes betray me, looking to the right—

  Him.

  Chapter 5

  He is just as handsome in the daylig
ht as he was in the light of the moon. His skin is darker than it originally appeared, but everything from his sharp jaw line to his kissable lips is exactly as I remembered.

  The broadness of his shoulders remind me of the way his arms flexed as he held my face in the tub, but those gray eyes are the nail in my coffin. They scream of mischief; he knows I remember him perfectly, that right now I’m remembering every intimate thing we’d ever done together.

  It’s him. “Mr. Snow” is my wolf.

  No, not mine. There is nothing about the creature in front of you that belongs to you.

  My entire body disagrees with the thought.

  Those beautiful canines grace me with their presence as he smiles a heart-stopping smile directly at me.

  My jaw drops, and I can’t bring in enough air. He is here . . . in this class . . . sitting next to me.

  Fear takes over and my blood begins pounding in my ears. The night in the tub and the ones following it did happen. They really happened. That means I was bitten. I didn’t imagine someone shifting from human to animal.

  I’d always known the truth, it had been nagging at me in the back of my mind, mocking me for not accepting what was right in front of my face.

  Now, here, sitting right next to me in this lecture hall, is undeniable proof.

  A lump forms in my throat. I force it down. I can’t decide whether to bolt from my chair and escape the class—or to jump on him and curl into his lap. My body is going crazy, the tingles returning and jack hammering to an insane level.

  “Stop staring at the new student Tanner. She isn’t an animal on display,” Professor Riley snaps, earning him a growl from the sexy beast sitting next to me.

  Tanner.

  That’s his name. Just the thought of knowing his name reminds me of our nights together. Nights when all I could do was moan in pleasure. Lust is taking over my body while fear conquers my mind. The tug of war is spiraling out of control.

 

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