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  FATED TO THE LYCAN PRINCE BOOK 2: NEW MOON

  (First Look)

  Chapter 1

  SASHA

  If travel is searching

  Regular tasks weren’t easy to accomplish anymore. Easily distracted is what I was. Something as simple as washing and folding laundry seemed to be so difficult with me bursting into a round of tears, silently crying to myself. At night was no better. I made sure to keep my curtains closed and my Christmas tree lights that bordered my dresser on.

  I stared at the spoon I was whirling around in my mashed potatoes aimlessly. The positive side of dinner with my family was that Daddy got a new table that could seat six people instead of four, so we were kind of spaced out. The elbowroom was nice for a change.

  The night that Vikas brought me home, we didn’t share a word. Seattle’s infamous rain beat the car just as my first load of tears appeared. Constantly I clutched the end of my skirt over my knees, not for one second thinking about the shoes I left behind. I remembered looking into the rearview mirror to steal a peek at Vikas, hoping he’d have something useful to say; a snotty explanation, perhaps, or something that would’ve veered my thoughts in another direction. Maybe he could tell me that I wasn’t crazy and that nothing I thought happened at the house actually happened. At that moment in time, I would’ve believed him whole-heartedly.

  At least Daddy still got to get up in the mornings, put on his Sunday’s best, and went to a job that wasn’t really too strenuous. Sure, he had to become computer literate, but he was a fast learner. My days were spent without a hustle and bustle. If I was the last person in the bathroom, so be it. The cold water didn’t bother me any. To avoid my sisters, I chose the city bus as my mode of transportation. Even at school, I purposely wore my hair down to hide my face so that no one associated with Kappa Lambda could recognize me and possibly send word to Aaron.

  Aaron.

  At the thought of his name, my face began to crinkle, but I held on strongly as to not show any sign of weakness that would formulate a question or two at the table. A clench in my throat halted me from breathing as my eyes misted. I pursed my lips and clamped my lids tight in an attempt to rid myself of the hurt.

  “Baby, how are your exams coming along?” Mama asked.

  Slowly, I licked my lips, never straying my sight away from my potatoes. “Fine. The studies. They’re fine.” OF

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  “Mama, can’t you tell?” Crystal intervened.

  “Tell what?”

  “She’s heartbroken. I told her she would be.”

  “Sasha, is that true?”

  “Of course, it’s true.” Crystal giggled. “She really thought a man like that wanted someone like her? Please. Mama, the girl was a steppingstone.”

  “Crystal, that’s not ni—”

  “Shut up,” I mumbled.

  “What?” She asked with an attitude.

  The table was deathly quiet. I dropped my spoon with my line of sight still on the potatoes I was sure had to be delicious. “I said shut up,” I said a little louder.

  “Girl, who do you think you’re talking—”

  “I’m talking to you.” As if I hadn’t said it before, my head lifted up to her across the table from me. “I’m talking to you. You lowlife, false arrogant, pitiful, self-loathing bully. I’m talking to you! You self-righteous, ugly inside having, jealous, hateful, deceitful, broke, disgusting, slimy witch! I’m talking to you, Crystal Welch!”

  “Honey—” Mama began.

  Crystal scoffed. “Don’t you throw your anger at me because he broke up with you for someone more of his speed.”

  I slammed my hand onto the table, rising from my seat with my blood simmering. “You have no idea what happened between us,” I hissed. My lids were mere slits, but my fiery gaze was set on her. “Aaron didn’t want me to leave, but I left on my own merit, Crystal. You have no idea. And for you to assume tells me that you don’t even care enough to try to console your own sister after she hurt herself to walk away from a man who would give her the moon if she asked for the stars. Don’t hate me because the only men you get use you for your money. Don’t you rub your bad JuJu off on me because I chose to stand strong and finish out my degree, you illiterate wench! Tell Daddy the truth about why you got your second job, Crystal.”

  “Baby, that’s enough,” Diamond whispered, reaching for my arm to seat me.

  I yanked away from her reach. “Tell Daddy, you measly coward. It wasn’t to help out around the house. It was so that you would have an excuse when the report cards stopped coming in. Damn you, Crystal Welch, for all the years you bullied me and put me down.”

  She snarled. “You ugly—”

  “Ugly? I’m sure Mama would like to know how I got this scar, since you want to bring it up at the table.” My head whirled around to my mother at the head of the table, at my left. “The day you let Diamond and Crystal go to the waterpark for their back to school party, Crystal’s boyfriend made a comment that he didn’t want me in the pictures because I was too fat and too friendly. He told Crystal that I smiled too much, and asked her if I was a retard. To which Crystal sent her young sister away to play elsewhere. And while on my merry little way, he yanked a keg hose on purpose, initially trying to make me trip over it, but the metal end of the hose caught the side of my face. I could’ve been blinded for the rest of my life, but it’s not like she cares. I laid on the ground that day, writhing in agony, and the only person to come to my aid was Diamond. She was also the only one to call for a paramedic, Mama. Crystal doesn’t care about anything besides chasing after the same drug-peddling mule who’s never going to get out of the ghetto, because she isn’t either. But, excuse me so dearly for mentioning your insides, Crystal, because the Lord knows you don’t have any walls or insides left after your fourth abortion.”

  Everyone at the table gasped; their attention going straight to her.

  “Now,” I continued much calmer with a seemingly hoarse voice after my rant. “Crystal, don’t you ever discuss me unless you want to have a chit-chat in public about the shit you think I don’t know, rather than have assumed like you.” With that, I flipped her dinner plate into her lap using only the back of my pointer finger before I excused myself for the rest of the evening.

  I needed to get over Aaron and quickly, because I was not myself. Furthermore, I didn’t know who I was or who I was becoming.

  Chapter 2

  AARON

  And home has been found

  “It’s been almost a whole month,” Quisha rambled. She shook her head at the breakfast table, then rolled her eyes and took a sip from her champagne flute filled with orange juice.

  Reluctantly I’d come out of my room and sat in front of my parents when I really didn’t want to. My appetite was always ruined. The urge to reach out to Sasha became stronger as each day passed. On occasion I checked my phone for missed calls and texts. Thankfully I couldn’t hear from Melanie. She was imprisoned for assaulting a royal and combating a direct order from the hierarchy and heir. She had two more months being detained before she could finally speak her peace, but Quisha had to battle with even that. I honestly couldn’t share her sympathy.

  “Say something,” Quisha lowly challenged me.

  I lifted my head from the cut swine on my plate, and the side of eggs, just to make sure she was speaking to me.

  “You sit there and hold your head down—”

  “Quisha, don’t chastise him,” my dad argued.

  “You should be doing the chastising, but you’re not, so shut up! Aaron, plain and clear: Grow. The fuck. Up! Sasha wouldn’t have left you if you didn’t lose your mind and morph right in front of her. Speaking on Mel is one thing, but to change your whole appearance is another.”

  “Why are we on me?” My face balled.

  “Because you have a real shot at something solid, but you almost blew it. You go an
d get her back, Aaron!”

  “Look, all I want to do is try my best to get something down the fucking hatch and go to class. Can I do that without even hearing Sasha’s name?”

  Slowly, Quisha shook her head. “You will never understand. It seems like every three steps you take to move forward, somehow you take ten backward.”

  “Fuck this.” I stood, slapping my napkin on the table.

  My dad grabbed my arm to violently pull me back down into my seat. “You’ll sit here and have breakfast with us first. I want to make sure you have something solid on your stomach for a change.” He then, quickly, pointed at his wife with a single cocked brow. “Quisha, remain out of his personal affairs. Aaron is a grown man. If he blows something—”

  “But he’s my—”

  “I’m speaking!” he roared, damn near vibrating the glass of the breakfast table. All his little wife could do was fold her arms with flaring nostrils at him. “Like I said, we are to remain away from his personal affairs. He’s hurting enough. Only he knows what his next move should be. So, if you’re not encouraging him, leave him alone. You want to speak to someone, talk to that best friend of yours, or whatever she is to you at the moment, because she completely disrespected our home. She could’ve snapped and killed us all had you not called Vikas. I don’t appreciate any of that shit at all. That, my queen, was not Aaron’s fault. Now, let’s enjoy our breakfast as a family for a change. No one say anything that isn’t positive or beneficial.”

  “Josiah—”

  “No one. Say anything. That isn’t positive. Or beneficial.” He was stern and serious with his gaze on his wife.

  “I need to make sure my mama’s eaten.” Quisha excused herself to check on the crazy bat who rarely liked to come around me. She said that I was a demon because of my eyes and the lack of smile I had for her.

  My dad shook his head and looked over to me. “Son, eat something. I’m not leaving this table until you do. You may be an adult, but it doesn’t stop me from being concerned.”

  “I can’t,” I merely whispered. A lump formed in my throat.

  “You have to push, Aaron.”

  “Dad, she’s gone. She’s fucking gone, and it’s my fault. I should’ve answered all of Melanie’s texts and tried being nicer to her, and none of this would’ve happened.”

  He leaned over the table to fetch the swan-neck pitcher of orange juice to refresh my glass. “Son, do you remember the power of orange juice?” Lowly, he chuckled. “You thought it could heal any and everything. Well.” He pushed the glass closer to my plate. “Even though you’re grown now, I like to think this will help in the healing of that heart of yours. Love’s not easy. Don’t forget that if anyone knows, it’s your old man. I’m not steering you wrong, I’m telling you what I know. What I also know is that just like you’re hurting, you’re wondering, and you’re not eating… Sasha could be going through the exact same thing. I’m not going to get into your business, son, but I do advise you to at least try to cast the net out there to see what you get back.” He winked at me, simultaneously picking up his plate as he rose from the table. “Let’s take our breakfast outside before we have to put on our suits. We need some fresh air.”

  Fresh air wouldn’t help me any. I felt the need to puke more than not, and my insides twisted every time my phone pinged because I’d think it was Sasha for something so small and probably irrelevant. All she did was prove to me that she wasn’t like the rest of the addicted girls to their men. I should’ve known better. Sasha was a species of her own.

  -SASHA-

  I wasn’t here. Stuck in limbo is what it had to be. I couldn’t cry anymore. My tears were all dried up. My body was numb. It seemed as though I was just floating through life. I barely spoke, rarely ate, and my insomnia was at an all-time high. Still, I was using public transportation to avoid my sisters; especially Crystal because she made my blood simmer.

  Even in my lecture, I wasn’t there. Mainly I doodled on a blank sheet of paper with my voice recorder on my cellphone rolling.

  “Dr. Welch… Define phobia.”

  I closed my lids tight as I took a deep breath. Why couldn’t he call on someone else?

  “I see a black widow spider and I get the trembles. Is that a phobia?” Dr. Thomas folded his arms over his crimson-colored sweater vest, taking a seat on the edge of his desk.

  After gathering myself, I answered, “A phobia is an anxiety disorder characterized by extreme and irrational fear of simple things or social situations. The thing to remember about phobia is that it describes an irrational fear. If you’re afraid of a black widow spider, for example, that’s not a phobia—it’s just smart, because the spider is poisonous. If you’re afraid of all spiders, however, and the sight of a harmless daddy long legs spider has you shaking in terror, then you may have a phobia. In this case, it's a phobia because your reaction is irrational.”

  “Is there truly a difference—”

  “Quite frankly, everyone has their own opinions and perceptions about every single cell. This is just my opinion somehow aligning with yours, Dr. Thomas. That scenario could’ve been a cognitive phobia, only because we fear the unknown. I mean, who knows right off hand that black windows are poisonous? No one is going to take out their phones when they see a spider, just to Google it and come up with a conclusion on their own of if they should be afraid or not. This is textbook.”

  “Which brings me to my next point, Dr. Welch. Cognitive phobias. Five pages on my desk on Monday morning, people. You are dismissed.”

  Lazily I stuffed my pages inside my binder and hid it inside my bag. Then, I saved my recording on my phone so that I could listen to it later. I was in no rush to get anywhere.

  “Dr. Welch. A word?”

  I huffed. Dr. Thomas had a thing about adding our prefixes to our last names because he wanted us to be used to being called such before we headed off into the field. If only he knew how much it annoyed me more and more these days. I still didn’t feel as if I’d become a criminal psychologist as I originally planned.

  “I hope you don’t have any more party suggestions,” I said as I stepped down the stairs of my aisle.

  “No, actually, I don’t. However, the entire vibe you’re putting out into this auditorium is completely different. Is everything okay? Is something bothering you?”

  “No,” I lied strongly.

  “Surely you don’t think that I put in a fifteen-year career in the FBI for my own amusement and travel benefits.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Dr. Welch, I’ve researched the greatest, darkest and most intelligent minds ever known to man. That includes yours from a distance.” From behind him, he pulled out a packet and handed it to me.

  The first thing I saw was the red marking on the top right corner of it. It was something so alien to me that my hand rose to my mouth as my knees buckled. C-minus.

  “I won’t intrude.” Dr. Thomas took a deep breath with his head bowed. “What I will say is that Social Control and Cults should’ve been a topic for you to soar through. I didn’t expect the clumsy correlations, nor the disillusioned scenarios you tied into this piece. To top it off, the grammar was subpar. That’s not at all like you. I’ll let you make it up to me over the weekend. Redo this paper, Dr. Welch. There are some pretty interesting people looking at you from Quantico.”

  “Q-Quantico?” I stammered, finally pulling my eyes off the grade that I had been allergic to all my life.

  “Yes. Quantico. They pull a few undergrads for studies all the time. You graduated high school when you were sixteen, tacked on summer college courses just before the Fall, which you’ve done your entire college career, and here you are, close to graduating. You’ve shown them that you’re eager, and that you have a passion for your studies. Why else would they look at you, Dr. Welch? But, I’ll tell you what. You don’t let whatever it is that’s bothering you, get to you. Some chances like this only come around once in a lifetime.”

  I stood there as
he walked away, weighing my options. Still, I was in limbo. There was a shot for me to finally go away, yet I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to.

  After unrooting my feet, I left the building, only to find that Seattle’s rain was striking again. I bowed my head, peering at my black and gray Jellies, starting my never-ending walk to the bus stop. That is until I hit something hard.

  I looked up and saw through the fog of my glasses that the side of a vehicle was the color of ash. Then, I looked a little further, connecting a line of sight with a frightening pair of eyes that almost looked dead.

  Aaron was silent as he peered at me over the hood of his car. It seemed like we were staring at one another forever without breathing or saying a word. He moved first, to round the hood and reach the passenger’s side door. Cautiously he opened it, waiting for me to get in. “You’ll catch your death out here. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to argue. Just get in the car.”

  I gulped. It was then that I realized I’d stopped breathing altogether. Seeing him again knocked that much wind out of me.

  Chapter 3

  SASHA

  En-cha-le-li THE

  He was driving, but my insides were turning. I wasn’t sure if me being cold was why I lightly shivered in my seat, or if it was because I was nervous to be around him after a month and two days. The heat was on, but I was still running cold.

  Nothing changed about him in thirty-one days. Not the way he clenched his jaw; not even the way he gripped the steering wheel with his lifeless, pale eyes on the road. Nothing.

  “Let me out on the corner,” I mumbled.

  Aaron said nothing. He rolled through a yellow light as if I hadn’t given him a quiet order.