Eight Years Novels & Stories

Eighteen is supposed to be special for us girls. Especially us girls in a werewolf pack. It marks us becoming an adult, when we are finally able to find our mates. That is exactly how I felt waking up on my eighteenth birthday. However, that excitement, the special feeling, did not last.

“That’s beautiful. How long have you two been together?” Libby opens her mouth, likely to say zero days, but I answer before she can. “Eight years,” I say confidently. Libby turns to me with the slow horror of someone realizing she’s trapped in a sitcom. “Eight years?” she repeats. “Feels like it,” I say. She glares so hard I fear spontaneous combustion. The principal claps her hands. “Well! I must say, it’s wonderful to see Emma surrounded by such committed adults. Truly.” Libby makes a faint whimpering noise.

At some point, I toed off my shoes and padded back and forth barefooted. My eyes fell on the clock and when I saw that it was now forty-minute past eight, I blew out an annoyed breath and dialed Killian's number again. I deserved some explanation. His phone rang this time but he didn't pick up and I listened as it went straight through to his voicemail. I knew our level of communication sucked but why wasn't he answering? "Killian." My voice broke when I tried to leave a voice message. I was appalled to realize tears were slipping from my eyes. Gosh, this wasn't the time to cry. "Can you call me back? I'm worried sick and it's past eight."

I guess this was the Eight day rule they always talk about after heartbreaks. No matter how hard life is, every after rejection or heart break take eight days to heal. Life had been nothing but a shithole to me. I had gone through countless rejections. And every time it took me eight days to get my full self back, and cussing actually works, it worked with me. Even if I went back to being miserable I had cussed out and blamed life and blamed humans. Life was so unfair I questioned my existence and questioned why I had to go through all this while others bragged about how fair it was to them. They had people loving them, senior workers and company heads loving them, parents loving them and me

I had fought cancer for eight years. I had waited for Liam for eight years. My greatest wish had only been to see him one more time. Now I had. That was enough. Goodbye, Liam. I love you.

But then, over the phone, I heard a voice in the background—sweet and familiar, "Papa Dan." It was Valerie Kinder's son, Theo. Theo told Dan he'd already helped him check off twenty-nine items on his bucket list. Only one was left—seeing the Northern Lights. "Papa Dan," Theo chirped, "this is my very last wish. Will you come with me?" Dan's heart melted on the spot. He said yes without a second thought. Then he turned back to me and said, "Lynn, don't overreact. I already checked—it's just one day. It won't affect the surgery.

His eyes were bloodshot, but I couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or something else. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded. I turned to face him fully, my voice cold and steady. "Irvin, how long have you known me?" His brow furrowed, but he answered automatically. "Eight years." "Exactly," I said, holding his gaze. "Eight years. Not eight days, not eight hours—eight years." "Since I was 18, and now I'm 26. It's been eight years." He opened his mouth to respond, but I didn't give him the chance.

"Count again," "Two," Smack. "Three", Smack. “Four," Smack. “Five," Smack. "Six", Smack. "Seven," Smack. Her voice came out as a tired whisper. “Eight," Smack. “Nine," Smack. “Ten,"

I stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the ruins of what I had carefully decorated. Henry had come running, kicked aside the broken decorations and balloons, and hugged Alice tightly, whispering for her not to hurt herself. He didn’t even notice the lettering on the fallen signboard that read: “Happy 3rd Anniversary.” That’s right. Today was our third mate bond anniversary. However, just like the past three years, the celebration was nothing but a joke. Henry and I had bonded as mates and broken it eight times throughout our three-year relationship. The last time we re-bonded was only a month ago.

"You don't need to thank me. I've always known you were the perfect woman for me. And when you turn eighteen, I have no doubt you'll step into your role with even more grace and power." I couldn't resist teasing him, with a naughty smirk playing on my lips, "Oh, you'll see. In just 8 days, I'll officially be an adult, and you're going to enjoy every bit of it." Levi raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh really? And what's so special about turning eighteen?"