บททั้งหมดของ MOONBOUND: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

AXEL“I mean, when you think about it, the school getting closed would have its upsides.” Lucas throws a handful of fries into his mouth, shrugging. “Think of all the crazy parties we could be at.” My eyes rake the entire cafeteria as my cousin rambles on about a possible closure for Greystone High. With the school's staff, the police department and a crowd of parents locked in a tense dialogue behind closed auditorium doors, the rest of the school speculates endlessly about what the meeting's outcome will be. Yet, my thoughts are far away from here. I need to find them. I glance around one last time, noting the absence of Shane and his pack in the cafeteria, and apprehension drives a spike through my chest. It's been three days since our harrowing encounter with Dreadborn in the woods, and I don't know for certain if the trio survived the ordeal. With silver driven straight through Rakim, and whatever the hell the Lycan did to Miles, both boys might as well already be dead. Goddam

AXELAnxiety coils like a serpent in my belly as I stare at the wrinkled face of the woman before me. She knows all about werewolves… and she knows me. When I chance a glance at Shane, he wears an inscrutable look that does nothing to ease the apprehension in my guts. “A storm is coming, Shane. Bring your friend into the house,” The old woman says, before turning around to head for the wooden cabin. Steadying her weight with the cane she wields, she takes laborious steps up the small stairs and makes her way into the house. A storm? Through the dense, high trees towering across all of Lumber’s Trail, beams of sunlight spill down onto the snow-coated grounds, providing a soft glow for the surrounding shrubs. Yeah, there's no way a storm shows up today. “Need an invite?” Shane asks, pulling my attention to his presence on the porch. “Come in already.” Biting back a cuss, I follow after him. “How does the old lady know me? Also, who is she? Your mom?” I watch Shane grate his jaw

HAYLEYA thick curtain of snow forms on the windshield of my Dad's car as we drive home. The wipers work furiously, sweeping mounds of ice away from the glass—only for more snow to take its place. My Dad though, doesn't seem to care any bit for the snow as he belts out the lyrics to an old song playing on the stereo. “When our love was new, and each kiss an inspiration—” “Oh, God. Dad, please stop singing,” I chortle. A grin splits his face. “What's the matter? Can't stand the fact that your old man has got a melodious voice?” I roll my eyes, laughing. “Your voice is anything but melodious, Dad.” “Ouch.” My Dad clutches his chest dramatically, feigning hurt. “That's brutal.” “It's not like that,” I chuckle as we take a turn to our right, where the traffic lights at the intersection turn bright red. Slowly, our car grinds to a halt. “Let's just say, if you went for a musical competition, I wouldn't bet on you winning first place.” “So second place then?” “Err, probably not as w

HAYLEYRun, Hayley. Run! Fear takes root in my bones, quickening my strides as I bound through the night. Blades of grass whip past my face and my sight is a blurry mess, but I can't stop. I will not stop. The moon is faint at first, its light hidden behind a giant rock far ahead of me. But the closer I get to the boulder, the more visible the great ball of white becomes. My eyes have barely adjusted to the light filtering from above, when I hear it—them. Paws pound relentlessly behind me, the sound like an incoming earthquake. Howls emanate from the darkness beyond, and a shudder ripples across my skin. My feet skid to a halt as I approach a wide creek just ahead. Moonlight streaks down onto the water, making the river a cascade of enchanting beauty. Or death, in my case. With no other escape route in sight, I will myself to turn around in spite of my racing heart. A multitude of green eyes stare at me from the shadows, and an eerie sense of deja vu climbs up my spine. I've be

NARRATIVE POV. Sheriff McKenna stood in front of his to-do list taped to the fridge, carefully ticking through the items. “Make chicken soup for Maria. Check.” He drew a straight line over the task, canceling it. “Mow the backyard and take out the trash. Check.” Another line. He paused at the next item. Join Maria at the hospital for her antenatal program. In a few seconds, he'd cancel that as well before leaving the house. The man watched the coffee maker gurgle softly, filling the kitchen with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. One mug, and he'd be ready to head out. A box filled with fruits, baked treats and a bunch of his wife’s favorite novels rested on the counter. He couldn't tell what particular book Maria was constantly reading at night, and so he'd just tossed all of them in. The thought of his wife's reaction to her collection of books drew a grin on the man's face. For what it was worth, Jamie relished being the best husband he could be. It was the one part of hi