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Freya Rose Series(#1-4)

Freya Rose Series(#1-4)

Freya Rose

4.9
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Freya's life was one that many girls have dreamed of. The kind that people wrote novels about. Hers was a story about an average high school girl who fell in love with her best friends gorgeous older brother. Tristan Cole was popular, handsome and athletic. You know, the type of guy that every boy wanted to be and all the girls wished they could date. Tristan barely noticed Freya, until one night when he ran right into her at his brothers birthday party. While almost knocking her to the ground, he reached out to save the brunette bombshell and sparks flew. They became high school sweethearts and life couldn't get any better for the young couple, but we all know how cruel life can be and that happy endings are only for romance novels and fairytales. You see, Tristan was keeping a secret and he knew that it would end their relationship if Freya discovered the truth. His lies and secrecy began to plague them both and soon enough, their once solid foundations were shattered. Will he be able to paper over the cracks and repair their relationship in time? Or will someone else come along to claim his mate as their own?

Chapter 1 No.1

Her Delicious Scent

Music boomed all around me as brightly colored lights rhythmically flashed, piercing through the darkness and illuminating my surroundings ever so slightly. I startled when two large hands wrapped themselves around my waist. He leaned in towards me, and I could smell a blast of his minty fresh breath as it brushed against my cheek. I watched as one of his hands delicately traced up my arm, leaving my hairs standing in its wake. My body stiffened when his fingers lightly etched tiny circles onto my bare skin. With my heart racing, his hand suddenly slid behind my hair. In a stark contrast to the tenderness it had just shown, it tightly gripped the back of my neck.

"What the hell are you doing?" I questioned him in a raised whisper, not wanting to cause a scene.

He didn't answer me, so I cautiously looked up at him. I tried to pull myself out of his grip, and panicked thoughts began to race through my mind. You're not my boyfriend! I don't know you. Who are you?

The man smirked at me and started to tighten his grip around the back of my neck. I could feel his nails gradually extending and scraping along my skin, snagging in my hair as they grew. My mouth fell open when I peered into his raven eyes. When he scowled at me in response, I instantly knew that I had made a huge mistake letting this monster touch me.

I glanced around the room. I hoped that someone would have noticed what was happening to me. I hoped that somebody, anybody, would come to my aid. Or maybe, just maybe, Tristan would arrive and kick the guy's ass. My hope gradually died when my eyes roamed around the dimly lit room and saw that every single person had turned their backs on me. What the hell was going on? I thought as I glared back at the mysterious and frightening stranger.

He opened his mouth into an evil smirk, and with a perfectly timed flash of the disco lights, I could have sworn I saw fangs. Fear instantly spread throughout my body as I searched his pitch-black eyes for answers, but there was nothing there. All that stared back at me was emptiness and hopelessness.

Everything around me began to move in slow motion. I closed my eyes, and before I had a chance to open them up again, a sharp pain engulfed me. His nails pierced into my skin when he yanked my head to the side. With my eyes still firmly closed, I tried to squirm, but he dug his nails deeper into my neck and I lost all ability to move.

My heart was racing, and my breath was a shallow pant as tears slowly began to stream down my face. An icy cold shiver ran down my spine, while his free hand swept my hair back over my shoulder exposing my neck. His unnaturally cold breath made my skin tingle when he lowered his face towards me, and my body automatically stiffened as his lips caressed my neck. I couldn't believe what was happening, it couldn't be real. Please God, help me! I screamed in my head, begging for my life.

I felt the man's lips part allowing him to taste my skin with his tongue. I tried to let out an almighty scream, but air is all that escaped my lips. He sank his fangs deep into my neck, piercing through my skin like the soft flesh of a peach. It sent a wave of scorching pain throughout my body like a volcanic sea of lava. The once-booming music was now a low hum, and I could feel the world slipping away from me. The little flashes of light that were once there, now faded away into hopelessness and empty darkness just like my attacker's eyes.

He hastily pulled his fangs out of my skin, making my legs weak. They were unable to hold up my weight any longer and buckled beneath me, making me collapse. My body fell to the side and my head slammed into the hardwood floor. I heard a woman scream as I lay there motionless, unable to open my eyes, or speak a word. I exhaled for the last time. No strength left in me to inhale again. Silence and peace washed over me as I succumb to the icy-cold hand of death.

Freya Rose

Beep, beep, beep!

"Urgh," I groaned as I rolled over in bed. I lazily waved my hand around in the direction of the incessant screeching noise. I missed my target a few times, swatting the bedside table instead. Feeling frustrated, but still too exhausted to open my eyes, I gave it one last go.

Oh yeah, this jerk is going to get it! I thought as I lifted my hand up into the air, then brought it back down with all my might.

"Damn it!" I screamed out in pain when my hand collided with my alarm clock, bending my little finger back like it was some sort of contortionist. "You son of a bit..." I trailed off while shoving my injured finger into my mouth. I sucked on it in a pathetic attempt to stop it from throbbing. Well, that was a hell of a way to wake up.

I carefully pulled my little finger out of my mouth to inspect it for damage. I half expected it to be broken and flopping around like a limp piece of spaghetti, with the ligaments and tendons held it on to the rest of my hand for dear life. I exhaled with relief when my pinky looked back at me in all its normality. Well, apart from a new purple hue on the inside of my knuckle. Feeling a small sense of victory, I flipped my alarm clock the middle finger while smugly shouting, "I win bitch!"

I gradually dragged my aching body up and swung my legs over the side of my bed. Gravity automatically took over and yanked my feet down to the floor, where they were instantly greeted by my cream-colored fluffy rug. I scrunched my toes into it a few times, stroking the luxuriously soft fibers like I did every morning. I had no idea why I did it, all I knew, was that I had done it every single morning for as long as I could remember. So, now it was more like a compulsion or habit than anything else. I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment then crouched forward towards my knees and rested my head in my hands.

The fight with the alarm clock and the pain in my finger had subsided slightly, but I felt like absolute crap. I had the mother of all headaches, and my eyes felt like I had washed them in a sandbox. I tried to ease the throbbing in my head by circling my fingers around my temples, but it wasn't helping at all. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh while my hands dropped to my sides in defeat.

Suddenly, the bright morning sunshine engulfed my room and tried its best to penetrate my tightly shut eyelids.

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