Bryony Adams is destined to be murdered, but fortunately Fate has terrible marksmanship. In order to survive, she must run as far and as fast as she can. After arriving in Seattle, Bryony befriends a tortured musician, a market fish-thrower, and a starry-eyed hero who is secretly a serial killer bent on fulfilling Bryony’s dark destiny. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing
Lihat lebih banyakViolet
My heart pounded with excitement and nerves as I walked across the campus of Starlight Academy with my suitcases in my hands. This had been my dream for as long as I could remember—to be among the best shifters. The academy was very hard to get into but somehow I had managed to do it. Today would be the start of a new chapter in my life, and absolutely nothing could ruin it. "Move it, four eyes!" Almost nothing. I released a yelp as someone shove me down to the ground, and I fell down with my suitcases. My glasses slipped from my face and I panicked. “No, no!” I whispered, closing my eyes as I desperately looked for them. They needed to remain on my eyes at all times. I’d had them since I was eight years old, and all I knew was that it would be a cold and lonely night if I didn’t have them on at all times. The nightmares, the visions… “Yes!” I breathed, my fingers brushing against the familiar frame. Relieved, I quickly put them back on. I caught a glimpse of the back of the guy who had pushed me over as he walked with his group of friends. “Asshole!” my wolf, Lumia and I muttered at the same time. One of the guys, wearing a blue hoodie, looked back with what seemed like a look of sympathy. Our eyes met, and then he made a turn, sprinting to my direction. Flustered, I watched as he grabbed my suitcases from the ground before sticking out his hand to help me. “Are you okay?” “Yes, thanks,” I accepted as I got up, now standing face to face with him. My lips instantly curled at the handsome blonde in front of me, his eyes as brown as honey and his hair slightly lighter than mine. "I'm sorry for the prince," he said. "He didn’t mean it, he’s a bit cranky today." I frowned. "The prince?" The guy eyed me strangely. "The Ly…never mind. First day?” “Yes.” “Do you need help with your suitcases?" "Yes, sure.” He grabbed my two suitcases and we began to walk, my short legs struggling to keep up as I was almost half his size. "Were you on your way to pick up your keys?" “Yes.” “Can you only say, yes?” “Ye…I mean—no,” I shook my head, a bit embarrassed. He chuckled. "I’m Nate, member of the student council.” "Violet," I responded. Nate glanced at me, and then his eyes studied me. His look was so intense I couldn’t help but blush. "So let me guess,” he spoke. “Seventeen, small and humble pack, Alpha’s daughter, healer’s acquaintance?" I looked at him, shocked, and let out a surprised laugh. "You were almost right—eighteen." And then there was this other thing. The Alpha was my uncle who had raised me, but it wasn’t something I ever felt like discussing. When I was eight, my parents had passed away in an attack, and my uncle had been taking care of me ever since. He was the Alpha of the Bloodrose pack, a small pack from the east. "Studying to be the healer’s acquaintance? Your parents must be proud of you," Nate said. "Yes, and they..." I replied, the words trailing off. Alpha Fergus had tried to treat me like a daughter, but the man was just too awkward to raise one. He had never been around much, and our Luna, Sonya had tried her best, but we just didn’t have that mother-daughter click. Adding salt to the wound was Dylan, my cousin, who I grew up with. I called him my brother, everyone did. He had hated me all my life, never giving me a reason, and we had never gotten along. He was a sophomore at Starlight Academy and had made it very clear that we were not family within these walls and to stay away from him. His exact words had been, ‘Do not embarrass me, freak.’ “They’re proud,” I sighed. As I followed Nate, I noticed a lot of girls fighting for his attention. Once in a while he would acknowledge one of them, and was met with squeals. With a face like that, it wasn’t hard to guess that he was popular. Above all, he seemed to have a good heart as well. He caught me staring, and I lowered my gaze to the ground with a giggle. "Here you are," Nate said. I looked up and realized we had already arrived at the grand hall. “Come on,” he guided me inside, and it was just as incredible as I remembered from the orientation—a large, open space with high ceilings and luxe appearance. It was quite busy, the area filled with students and suitcases. “Wow,” I gasped, looking around in awe. Nate pointed. "That’s the front desk. You can go there for information and get your keys,” then he stuck out his hand. "It was nice to meet you. Welcome, and I hope you’ll have a good year—Violet." I looked at his hand for a moment before accepting it. "Thank you.” He winked at me, and I felt a flutter in my chest. I kept holding his hand for a second longer than necessary and when he stared at our intertwined hands with a soft smile, I released a cough and stepped back. "Thank you," I repeated, not knowing what else to say. “And thank you for coming back to help me.” “No problem,” Nate spoke. “Just doing my job.” Right, cause he was a member of the student council. “Nate—let’s go!” A loud voice called out. I looked over Nate’s shoulder to see where the voice was coming from. It was a guy leaning against one of the pillars, surrounded by friends, his back turned to us. It was the same guy who had called me four-eyes. I recognized his voice immediately. Nate had referred to him as a prince, and I wondered if it was because he was actual royalty or because of his entitled behavior. Yet, Nate didn’t hesitate for a second and immediately walked off to his friend. "Next!" the woman behind the information desk shouted, snapping me back to reality. An unimpressed look was plastered on her face. “Oh, yes—that would be me!” I said, sounding awkward even to myself as I struggled to push my suitcases to the desk. “Name, class, and major,” she demanded, her tone flat. "Violet Hastings, freshman from the healer department?” The woman hummed and looked through a stack of papers or files. Meanwhile my thoughts went to my three new roommates, hoping they’d at least be more bearable than that dude who called me four-eyes. "I-I have to say, I’m very honored to be one of the chosen 200 to learn from the best healers and my Mom was actually an alumna so I’m really excited to—" The woman cut me off, throwing a set of keys at me, and I caught them just in time. "Lunar hall, second building on your left, second floor, room 102—Next!" “Okay?” I blinked, shocked by her rudeness. Before I could react, someone shoved me aside, and I almost stumbled but could luckily regain my balance just in time. Following the rude woman’s directions to the dorm building was thankfully not too much of a hassle. I managed to get to the second floor with a lot of struggle, completely out of breath and probably sweaty—but I was there and that was all that mattered. The hallway was filled with students, chatting, moving in their belongings and so on. Overwhelmed by the noise and the people, I looked around, not knowing where to start. "What room are you in?" a voice asked from behind. As I turned my head, a woman gasped loudly in my face. “Adelaide?” she widened her striking green eyes. I looked at the woman, trying to figure out whether I knew her, but I couldn’t recognize her. “W-Who?” I stuttered. The woman had light grey hair pulled back into a bun, glasses on her nose, and striking green eyes. She stared at me with an intense, almost hopeful expression while I eyed her back strangely, thinking she must have mistaken me for someone else. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, "you just look like someone I once knew." I smiled warmly. "It's okay." "My name is Esther, and I’m the RD of this department. And you are..." she began, her eyes moving to the name on my key tag. "Violet Hastings from room 102—the room just down the hall," she said. "Thank you," I sighed, grateful for the help. Shooting her one last smile, I walked further with my suitcases to go to my room. With each step I took, I grew more anxious about meeting my roommates. What would they be like? Would I like them? Would they like me? Even with the Bloodrose pack, I realized I’d never really had friends. Sure, there were people I was closer to than others, but friends? I reached the door to room 102, and my heart pounded in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I turned the key in the lock and then I pushed the door open. In the center of the room stood two girls who immediately stopped talking and looked at me. One of the girls had dyed light pink hair, the other dark curls. Their clothes were stylish and expensive-looking, making me feel insecure and out of place. They probably came from high-status families, bigger packs, unlike me. "Am I interrupting?" I asked, my voice hesitant. The pink-haired girl rushed toward me. "No," she spoke in a hurry. "I’m Amy, that’s Trinity—and are you her? Kylan’s ex?" I frowned in confusion. "Who?" And who was Kylan? "Our roommate, Chrystal? The Lycan Prince’s ex?" Amy explained. “I heard she has to redo her freshman year and is our roommate—are you her?”CHAPTER SIXTY ONEThere Is No EndLightning did not hit our sweet Bryony. The same time it flashed, a car came spinning out of nowhere, and its headlights were stark and bright and almost blinded our dear girl. Her heart shivered and stopped momentarily, quite knocked out of sorts by the extreme overload, but soon came back to itself and began to beat resolutely.Car doors slammed and feet hurried over to her.“Bryony!” cried out a voice, a familiar voice, a dear and good voice. Bryony raised her head and looked through the veil of water to see death had been kind enough to send her an angel who looked, sounded, and, oh my, felt just like her Eddie.“Bryony, I will never leave you again, I swear it. Never, never,” he said, and buried his face into her wet hair, and kissed her cold face and lips and cheeks and fingers. He gently caressed her burst stitches and tried not to cry.A man walked up from behind him and held out a blanket. Eddie helped Bryony to her feet and she was soon
CHAPTER SIXTYThe EndOh, what a terrible story!How could it be that we followed Bryony’s journey from the time she was a little girl, ignorant of all that would befall her, through her first kiss and college and meeting friends and Eddie and her tormented killer and her fight to the death, and then she dies in the end?She dies. Bryony falls to the ground like a flower, and we are left to mourn her. More than that, we feel betrayed. We invested time and interest. We cheered her on and we shouted: “No, don’t let that man in your home!” and “Eddie, what are you doing, you must go with Bryony!” and “Hooray, Teddy Baker, you had decency inside of you all along, and we are so very proud of you for your choices!” Perhaps there were even a few thoughts of, “I wonder what a jonquil looks like. I shall certainly run to look one up and educate myself so I may better relate to the tale of Bryony and her Eddie.”Perhaps you are angry, dear reader. Perhaps you hoped better for our girl, beca
CHAPTER FIFTY NINEBlood and Wind and RainThere comes a time in everyone’s life when a decision must be made.There are always decisions being made, every second of every day, and sometimes that decision is simply not to decide. However, it needs be said that one day every living thing on this earth will make The Utmost Decision, the decision that will change the rest of their existence one way or the other. What is this decision, you ask? It is different for everybody, and you will not know what yours will be until the time comes, and perhaps even then you will not realize the importance of your choice.But as for our dear Bryony, when the time came and she was faced with her Utmost Decision, she realized the ramification of that instant with serene clarity. In fact, as she stood there in the blood and wind and rain with a killer and his brightly shining knife, the terror subsided for a perfect moment and she had amazing presence of mind.She thought, “He has found me, and I am
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHTFight“Bryony,” Peter huffed. “I wish you were feeling better, that you were whole. You have no idea how much I wish this for you. Alas, it is not meant to be, because it is time. You and I have a dance to finish, don’t we?”The wind picked up, blowing the storm their way, blowing Bryony’s hair around her white face like a flag signaling for help. But no help was to be had, and she was stuck fast while Peter pressed behind her, his hand fisted in her hair.Bryony’s head was pulled sharply back, and the wind caressed her vulnerable throat in a way that unnerved her.She tried to keep her voice calm when she said: “I wish that you wouldn’t kill me, Peter. It would disappoint Eddie. It would disappoint my father.”Peter shrugged. “We can’t change who we are, can we? No, we cannot. I was born to live and you were born to die, my beautiful Bryony.” He coughed. “This wind, it’s blowing sand in my face. However do you get used to it? I can’t breathe.”“Just give you
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVENThe ChaseThe first drop of rain hit Bryony beside her eye, and ran down her face like tears.No, she thought. No!She knew Peter was behind her, and her mind went cottony with despair and panic. More time! She needed more time.Bryony picked up her pace. It would deplete her energy faster, but if she didn’t outrun him, her reserve of energy certainly wouldn’t do her any good.She scrapped her earlier plan of hiding in the library and phoning for help. Plan B consisted of running to the closest house and screaming hysterically for help. Unfortunately for her, that was still a good four miles. Loneliness consumed her, biting at her cheeks like the stormy air. It was all catching up with her. It was catching up.It was catching up. Already Peter could see her pale hair gathering and reflecting the weak light that somehow managed to filter through the harsh clouds. She was glowing, an ethereal will-o-wisp, and thoughts of the old tales flitted through his mind.
CHAPTER FIFTY SIXThe KnifeThe thing that must be remembered about Peter is that he, too, is a runner. Whereas Bryony planned to keep a little extra energy in her tank so as to make it the entire five miles, Peter had no such plans. He was sprinting, because he did not need to make it to the edge of town: he only needed to make it to the girl.His feet hit the ground like pistons, cold and mechanical, and he held the knife tightly in his grip, blade down.Oh, oh, how tragically this shall unfold.
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