suspected I had demon blood, but the tests always
came back negative for shifter or witch genes. The month people
thought I was a witch was bad, and if I’m honest the worst of my
life. Freaky and unexplainable stuff started happening when I was
nearby. Naturally, the solution thought up by the community was to
blame the weird kid. Having no family to protect me I had been
mocked, beaten to a pulp and ridiculed. People had spat at me and
even thrown stones. The matrons at the orphanage were afraid of me
and did nothing; they probably hoped someone would kick me in the
head too hard and take me off their hands. But I’d always been
resilient and a quick healer. Bearing the burden of being hated and
feared had set me apart as strong, and the Sect enrolled me in the
Cleric training programme less than a season later.
As a Disciple my life was better, still
difficult but better. I even had friend now.
Walking into the class, ignoring the other
Disciples already in the room, I sat down and rested my cheek on my
palm as Alex wandered off to mingle.
Mind drifting, a memory of silver eyes had my
heart picking up speed and turned my breathing shallow. Feeling the
heat in my cheeks, a glance around showed everyone was too wrapped
in their own world to notice my heaving chest. Not that people paid
me much mind. Why was I getting all hot and heavy over a fairy-boy
I would never see again? He said he was going to come for me, and I
had used this to help me get through my encounter with the vampire,
but there was no way he would risk coming onto the Temple grounds.
That would be stupid, and Breandan seemed anything but stupid,
right?
Bored of waiting for the lesson to start, I
stood to stretch, and the satisfying pangs of my muscles loosening
helped chase away some of the dull drum. Wandering from my desk, I
twisted my fingers together and paced the room. There had to be
something to inspire a break of remembering those cold and mad
eyes. Why was he mad? He was definitely upset about having to help
me back to the Temple, but why ?
There was no way in hell I was ever stepping
another toe past the Wall ever again, so I had to stop tormenting
myself with the questions eating away at my composure. Questions
like who was he? Who were the ‘we’ he kept referring to and how did
he know I was a fairy? Why was I given up at birth? Were my parents
still alive?
I thought I would go mad. If only I could see
him one more time, talk to him again, I might actually learn
something instead of being left confused and uneasy.
Glancing out the window I did a double take.
Calm and still, a figure stood on the grass outside. Breandan
stared at me. His eyes followed my steps as the wind and rain
lashed his body. He’d found me, and he did not look happy.
What could I have possibly done to make him more upset? Lifting a
hand he held it out, and crooked a finger. Pulled as if tethered, I
took a step forward then another. His eyes widened, face became
troubled. He beckoned to me again but waved his whole hand. My pace
quickened into a skip in my hurry to reach him. I fully intended on
smashing through the wall and glass.
Colliding head first into a chest, I
staggered back. “Excuse me,” I mumbled and cringed all over.
Body contact was difficult for me when I was
focused and prepared. Unexpected, it was like experiencing a full
body hiccup.
Forced to spare a glance at the boy I bumped,
I felt a thrill at the heart shaped face and green eyes watching
me. It was my lucky day because he was the third boy I’d seen that
morning who was delightful to look at. The thought had me veering
of course. Breandan was beautiful; he was a fairy, which was one of
the more attractive demons in existence. The only other boy I’d
seen was the vampire-boy, Tomas. Did I really think a dead guy was
attractive? Hadn’t I already decided his look did not appeal to me?
Uh, what a nasty thought. I shouldn’t find a blood drinker
sexy.
I reeled myself back in and
came back negative for shifter or witch genes. The month people
thought I was a witch was bad, and if I’m honest the worst of my
life. Freaky and unexplainable stuff started happening when I was
nearby. Naturally, the solution thought up by the community was to
blame the weird kid. Having no family to protect me I had been
mocked, beaten to a pulp and ridiculed. People had spat at me and
even thrown stones. The matrons at the orphanage were afraid of me
and did nothing; they probably hoped someone would kick me in the
head too hard and take me off their hands. But I’d always been
resilient and a quick healer. Bearing the burden of being hated and
feared had set me apart as strong, and the Sect enrolled me in the
Cleric training programme less than a season later.
As a Disciple my life was better, still
difficult but better. I even had friend now.
Walking into the class, ignoring the other
Disciples already in the room, I sat down and rested my cheek on my
palm as Alex wandered off to mingle.
Mind drifting, a memory of silver eyes had my
heart picking up speed and turned my breathing shallow. Feeling the
heat in my cheeks, a glance around showed everyone was too wrapped
in their own world to notice my heaving chest. Not that people paid
me much mind. Why was I getting all hot and heavy over a fairy-boy
I would never see again? He said he was going to come for me, and I
had used this to help me get through my encounter with the vampire,
but there was no way he would risk coming onto the Temple grounds.
That would be stupid, and Breandan seemed anything but stupid,
right?
Bored of waiting for the lesson to start, I
stood to stretch, and the satisfying pangs of my muscles loosening
helped chase away some of the dull drum. Wandering from my desk, I
twisted my fingers together and paced the room. There had to be
something to inspire a break of remembering those cold and mad
eyes. Why was he mad? He was definitely upset about having to help
me back to the Temple, but why ?
There was no way in hell I was ever stepping
another toe past the Wall ever again, so I had to stop tormenting
myself with the questions eating away at my composure. Questions
like who was he? Who were the ‘we’ he kept referring to and how did
he know I was a fairy? Why was I given up at birth? Were my parents
still alive?
I thought I would go mad. If only I could see
him one more time, talk to him again, I might actually learn
something instead of being left confused and uneasy.
Glancing out the window I did a double take.
Calm and still, a figure stood on the grass outside. Breandan
stared at me. His eyes followed my steps as the wind and rain
lashed his body. He’d found me, and he did not look happy.
What could I have possibly done to make him more upset? Lifting a
hand he held it out, and crooked a finger. Pulled as if tethered, I
took a step forward then another. His eyes widened, face became
troubled. He beckoned to me again but waved his whole hand. My pace
quickened into a skip in my hurry to reach him. I fully intended on
smashing through the wall and glass.
Colliding head first into a chest, I
staggered back. “Excuse me,” I mumbled and cringed all over.
Body contact was difficult for me when I was
focused and prepared. Unexpected, it was like experiencing a full
body hiccup.
Forced to spare a glance at the boy I bumped,
I felt a thrill at the heart shaped face and green eyes watching
me. It was my lucky day because he was the third boy I’d seen that
morning who was delightful to look at. The thought had me veering
of course. Breandan was beautiful; he was a fairy, which was one of
the more attractive demons in existence. The only other boy I’d
seen was the vampire-boy, Tomas. Did I really think a dead guy was
attractive? Hadn’t I already decided his look did not appeal to me?
Uh, what a nasty thought. I shouldn’t find a blood drinker
sexy.
I reeled myself back in and
Similar Books
