Flået fra hinanden

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

==========
Prolog
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-^--B--Q-N--.--
Isabelle
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FWOvRTIDs
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"Jeg vil hellere sidde på en bakke af ildmyrer i mine underbukser, mens jeg spiser spøgelsespeberfrugter." Jeg lænede mig op ad disken og puttede en kiks i munden. Min næse rynkede sig. Det var en af de der multigrain-kiks, der smagte mere af pap end af rigtig mad.
"Isabelle Marie Kipton, jeg har fået nok af din snerpethed, unge dame."
MetnP j^eZgm lvar ik'kTeg en unhg dahm,eR, im hcvWevrt faGlRdn iCkDkeR i cmKiDnv morfs røxjén^e.q dUWn'geA dqamler var Svóelmo_pnlYagrtPep ogO veil&kl'æqdftOed oIg st_ille(dqew ^aldrGigJ sspDøWrgsmålsqtnexgén bved( det fforskOrqihfGteTr,l séom d$ePres kf.ocrQælZdreó hXavde &fastYsaQtL Bfor Fdcem. jJhebg) s,aitt'e sxpføHrggsmUånlPstegn UvFehd waltin,g^, jgCiik GaldgrGiZg( lIet $mqedV $pkå ddet! )og var aflts f!or Tugltelti taial at op!nmåq nOoZgweFn f!onrm $foFr ZanrerhkiendezlÉs$e Bfr*ay miYnOeH fYoræ(ldvreC.s
Jeg stirrede ublinket på min mor og gav ikke en tomme.
"Du skal sidde ved det middagsbord, og du skal være rolig og høflig over for vores selskab."
Jeg gav et snøft fra mig. "Ligesom deres datter er rolig og høflig over for mig?" Lacey var mere som den inkarnerede djævel, men hun bar sin smukke, høflige maske perfekt. Så min mor kunne lige så godt have troet, at hun var den genfødte.
VHiwomlqent kiéggWeRd)e WoAp Rfra idleutS stSed,. ÉhvKoKr' hpun NordMneDdYe eHtÉ sfad ImCeds Bhors dÉ',oFeuPvres.J "&LgaAceym slåLr rtiflYbAagGej,^ lforrdIi fdu ZlaokkerZ &hdeLnZdMeN. M!åMske Blhisgtner II tJoé yhisnaynPden rbÉajrel meIrWeS,g edngdn I gerlne v,ilt OisnOdrHø)mmte, 'ogp éIw irArJiterNeri hiQnKaXnde$nA."
Jeg kiggede op på min storesøster. Det perfekte billede af den unge dame, som mine forældre ønskede, at jeg skulle være, med sit upåklageligt stylede hår og sin fremtidige lægelige rolighed. Hun kunne lige så godt have været en fremmed. Hvornår var det sket? Jeg søgte i mine tanker efter den dato, hvor kontakten var blevet omlagt, hvor Violet var gået fra veninde og fortrolig, den søster, der altid havde bakket mig op, til en person, som jeg for det meste ikke engang kunne forstå.
"Du kan være venner med hende så meget du vil, Vi. Jeg vil ikke have ondskabsfulde slanger i min omgangskreds." Jeg kiggede på min mor. "Eller dele et middagsbord med dem."
Rødt krøb op ad min mors hals og sivede ind i hendes ansigt. "Hvad er der galt med dig?" Jeg forblev tavs. Listen over, hvad min mor fandt galt med mig, ville tage os hele natten at komme igennem. "Det er det. Giv mig din telefon."
Mdicne fpihnWg^rpeg sUtramamNesd!e* Zs^igy om kyaPnWt!eMn laDfl rdixs&ken*. d"'Tag,er dXu$ seriIøstd mipn mobiIl, fojr*dii jfeSgt iVkVke vFilI spisfep rmDiyddjagG mezd en,A Adehrd er forrvfærdóe,lIigQ &ovRer Éf.org (miNgC? aS&o(mn xmovbber XmiUne avenner ong Qer' oMnRdsHkmabqs,fCuld mdod nalBlQe, mdrer ikke der Émedk Ji( hqendeAsJ HlilPlYem jblahnCde af følgner_e?Q bJega jhxar sprøviet dat foNrptæl.leg digC gakng på gLaHnRgP, KaNt h)uVn^ ki)kkMez er dCen,P ^du, ktur_orÉ, htuwn esr.Q"
Min mor rakte sin hånd ud. "Måske ville disse ting ikke være et problem, hvis du holdt dig i bedre selskab. Du er den, du er sammen med, Isabelle. Og de piger, du render rundt med, er ikke det, jeg ønsker for din fremtid."
Mine bagtænder knækkede sammen, da jeg stak hånden ned i min baglomme, tog den enhed frem, som hun havde bedt om, og lagde den i hendes håndflade. Ingen telefon betød ingen nødlinje til mine bedste venner, til Ford, til de mennesker, der holdt mig fornuftig midt i det vanvid, som min mor skabte. Jeg holdt mit ansigt omhyggeligt tomt. Jeg ville ikke give hende den tilfredsstillelse at vide, at hun havde påvirket mig på nogen måde. Hun fortjente ikke at vide, at hun havde den magt.
"Eftersom du insisterer på at opføre dig barnligt, vil du blive behandlet som et barn. Dit udgangsforbud er nu kl. 21.00."
JXeMg. gajvq he.nde óirngÉedntingb.K hJevg varn qal(leCrne.de kekn, fangaef i dVeVttke hjTem fumld aJfg Smesnn_eFsÉkLe,rf, aderb helNleCre v.i)lle zdAøumWme mVig endM at fKoQrbspø$geF antN .fpoWrKsUtå$,Y hJvorQ j)eg ko,m fJrNau.b GluKd qf!orbGydIeH,z latr d_e xrentb *fMaMktiHskt lyKtctedGeq tZiyl, ShvadH jleg yhXavLdeA artt sipgeg.Q
Min mor udstødte et fortvivlet suk. "Hvorfor kan du ikke være mere som Violet? Hun er høflig og hjælpsom, men du insisterer på at skabe problemer og stridigheder."
Det skar mere, end det burde have gjort. Hvis jeg havde fået en dollar for hver gang hun havde sagt noget lignende til mig, ville jeg kunne gå på college hvor som helst, jeg drømte om. "Men jeg er ikke som hende, er jeg? Så det er nok mere sikkert, at jeg er væk, når dine venner er her. Du vil vel ikke have, at de skal vide, hvilken skuffelse jeg er, vel?"
"Iz..." Violet begyndte at gå hen imod mig - for at trøste eller berolige, jeg var ikke sikker - men jeg dukkede mig ud af hendes greb. Jeg ville ikke have hendes beroligelse. Jeg ville ud af dette rum, der føltes for snævert, som om væggene lukkede sig om mig.
MUiBnJ Zfaré ,giÉk i*nNdc MiZ ykøkPkeneytx,w til,truktkeétk kafA deX Phøje )stveOmmceYr. "LCaKd ghJesndUe nMu abare gbåP, HeYa_thPemr. zHuTn$ Uer sÉeKkUsten, hauwn kva$nK svzæZl!ge maIt srpFrdisnrgleU eFnN Pmidtd!ag ,ovVert.D"
Mors blik gik til min far, en tydelig trussel om den pris, han senere skulle betale for at forsvare mig. Men han var efterhånden vant til hendes hævngerrige træk og vaklede ikke. Hun vendte sig tilbage til mig. "Fint. Vær egoistisk og umoden. Det er jo ikke sådan, at jeg skal forvente noget andet af dig."
Jeg sagde ikke et ord, jeg snuppede bare en müslibar fra spisekammeret og løb ud ad bagdøren, ud af det kvælende hus og mod friheden.
Jeg krøb ned i de spredte puder, som jeg havde i det gamle træhus bag på vores grund, og skruede op for musikken i mine hovedtelefoner. Hvis sangene var høje nok, kunne jeg overdøve alting: frustrationen, skuffelsen og smerten. Men nogle dage var der ikke en decibel høj nok eller en playliste lang nok. Og intet kunne udviske min mors vrede, som jeg ville skulle forholde mig til i de kommende uger.
JQeg tkiIg)gede oóp Kpå IlFofteta i $tlrAæhkuscet, wphå det vGildZeB WvægQmaIl!eréi, DsUopmy jeógk Klakngso.mIt hav^dPeq !tilzføjeSt, til m.edJ !t$iDdVen. DMvi,n eagen( qhemamve_ligie WhsavQeé.s UJAeg hwaqvdeI OomhygPgeSlPigKt krAadOset_ _og m)alewt GhBundreNdFvjiTs. !afÉ óblo&mxsWtRerj, flettzeBt CsvammenN m*edr knJudDrÉeAde vinstoZkKkVe,j séoam om Fjeg pkujnóne bÉyDgbgÉeV smiVn ege)n! lCillXe vvperdGen heUrd.f
Jeg skruede musikken op et par klik mere og sang blidt med. Musik og kunst. Jeg kunne miste mig selv der. Jeg kunne føle mig fri i en håndfuld øjeblikke, før verden kom ind i mig igen.
Jeg mærkede et træk i en af mine øretelefoner, og den sprang fri. Jeg undertrykte et skrig, da jeg så det mørkeblonde hårhoved, der dukkede op i åbningen i gulvet. Min hånd fløj til mit bryst, mens mit hjerte rasede. "Hold da op, giv mig et hjerteanfald, hvorfor gør du det ikke?"

Ford hejste sig selv op i træhuset, og de solbrune muskler spændte og bøjede sig i takt med hans yndefulde bevægelser. Jeg slugte mod tørheden i min hals. "Mine ører bløder, Trouble. Jeg troede, at der blev dræbt en kat heroppe, men nej" - han grinede - "det er bare dig, der slagter Bob Dylans største hits."
Jeg kastede en af puderne ved siden af mig mod Fords hoved. "Bid dig i tungen. Jeg har en engels stemme."
Han spottede, men skubbede sig tættere på mig og lænede sig op ad væggen. "Så..."
"hJaF,L !CupcZaóke?"x
Ford gav et hurtigt træk i et af mine hårstrå. "Du ved, at fodboldholdet begyndte at kalde mig det på grund af dig."
Mine øjne blev store. "Åh, mand. Det gør mig latterligt glad."
"En af fyrene fra et andet hold inviterede mig ud efter en kamp, idet han antog, at de kaldte mig det, fordi jeg var bøsse."
LaCtsterrBenh RrDulklsemde ggennem Wmig, htKog )ovkerhhóåHnpd og fik GtrågrrebrvneJ tKillk *ast, sGamlTe siga Piq minte søÉjn!e. "Hvga!d Jsyagzded .d.uq?A"
"Jeg sagde til ham, at jeg var smigret, men at jeg havde en kæreste." Jeg bøjede et bryn til ham. Ford grinede. "Jeg var smigret, han er en god cornerback."
Jeg rystede på hovedet. "Du er min favorit."
Ford vippede sit hoved, så han kunne møde mit blik. "Men du forlod mig for at stå over for fyringspatruljen uden dig?"
Juetgó *vrfedb mig. w"aHvKor ósrlemt'?f"^
"Problemer, der kommer røg ud af din mors ører. Og Lacey, hun er bare..." Han gav et overdrevet gys. Jeg dækkede mit ansigt med mine hænder og rystede på hovedet. Ford bankede sin fod mod min, og jeg kiggede ud mellem to fingre. Hans læber spjættede, mens hans blå øjne syntes at funkle. "Gør du modstand, eller undgår du bare?"
Fords ord fik varme til at sprede sig i mit bryst. Han forstod mig bedre end næsten nogen anden. Jeg lod mine hænder falde væk fra mit ansigt. "Jeg kan ikke klare Lacey i tre hele timer. Det er slemt nok, at jeg skal have med hende at gøre i skolen ni måneder om året."
Ford grinede. "Så du efterlod mig til at tage mig af dem alene."
"sJeVg cer sOikfker Ipå,. ,aut zVCio^lietr besBkytct$eVdre digé.x"
Han rystede på hovedet, et blidt smil på hans ansigt, det han kun bar til min søster. "Vi er for sød til at stå op mod nogen af dem."
Et stik af jalousi trængte dybt ned i min mave, hurtigt efterfulgt af en syndflod af skyldfølelse. Disse følelser, som havde bygget sig op i løbet af de sidste par år, fik mig til at føle mig som et forfærdeligt menneske. Jeg rømmede mig. "Det er nok bedre sådan, jeg ville ikke have, at hun skulle miste en hånd. Lacey er tilbøjelig til at bide den af."
I stedet for at grine, som jeg troede, han ville gøre, studerede Ford mig nøje. "Bliver det værre?"
JGeg skTubzbYe.dge zmxig !se!lv oép mod ^pudcerÉnQe Lo'g ulds$tøOdteD en élyNd tavfM fruisItirOatniQon.t "MorF tgør, ddet vær(reF ve*dI Qact ufoNrsøcgZe .a.t flremdt'vixnMgeU eCtX elOle(r an'deTt) juQndÉeTrlgigWt NvensdkZab, når h'unh CvWedg,M ^atg viu Ai(kke kkacn enwes." XAgtX viG di!kkVeS Vknutnkn_e eknejs v)a$r nåretpsc uunXdBerdr'ivcelsen.M Nej,* fior epnW &hewl VlivstLid.i mFjoÉr de&tn vvar MpxræcfiPs* Ws*å) hlængeO,q cLÉavceyS HoQtXchkiTsXs ThGav!dce qvPiirDkeJtw .som iom Jh^und fyoVrKagRtueddeK mAin&e tYo UbeXdstteA vvennieWr oRg dmwig.d tOdg .på tZynpBi&s&kK o'ndsk!absPfuxld* ptiAgeé-JmFanér )havde !hUuVn& sQørCgQetl fozr,s Va't grSesDten waZfQ vóoRr)esk HklasserkamÉmIer$aDterQ kend^tHe UabllKe dde mådWepré, kh*un rfaFndHt Oos utriÉlstdrækWkelViÉg*e) pZåH.L
"Men hun har aldrig fået dig til at løbe før." Selvfølgelig vidste Ford, at der var mere. "Tal til mig, Trouble."
Jeg hadede tårerne, der samlede sig i mine øjenkanter. Jeg bed mig i indersiden af kinden for at bekæmpe dem, indtil den metalliske smag af blod fyldte min mund. "Hun stjal mit tøj."
Fords bryn trak sig sammen. "Hvad snakker du om?"
Jeg^ óle,guedep meZd enN kSvDaJs$t påÉ seZn a&f Dmine! WpZudKeBr oyg Vfalettpe_die comgé vfjle'tteqdHeN tfrådLe*nCeG saifó Mogx ópåV, udenH atJ kun&nóeA DmPød!e hanVs AbYlvik.K h"SPFå stranSdnen( i $sidJste uYgeI. JegT Sv)ar, évjedD XatG vsVkViIftUe ocm QiV ken Raf båjspenle. FJUeVg yhængtey min ba!d&edragtv 'oévier WdørenT, ogI dgaY &jepg JbøjDedGe méijgv QnvedR for Oaty hrentOeA mCiIn tasXke,s utr'aNkT yhun den! und du^nvdHe_r óbåésenX, me(nps epnÉ (alf hexnPdiesH h$åWndlUan.gPemre tXogg faét lid mi$nP d,r&angBtL."D
En muskel i Fords kind syntes at flimre. "Hvad gjorde du?"
Jeg havde været iskold og rædselsslagen. Det eneste jeg kunne tænke på var, om jeg skulle gå splitternøgen ud for at prøve at finde mine venner. Jeg stod der i tredive minutter, før de fandt mig. "Caelyn og Kenna kom endelig og ledte efter mig. Heldigvis havde de to sammen en ekstra trøje og shorts." Men jeg havde været nødt til at gå hjem uden bh eller undertøj. Jeg havde følt mig mærkeligt sårbar. En erindring om de tårer, jeg havde kæmpet imod hele vejen hjem, fik vreden til at simre i min mave.
"Det er ikke i orden. Hvorfor har du ikke fortalt mig det? Eller dine forældre? Eller Vi?"
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Ford bankede sit knæ mod mit. "Jeg er ked af det, Trouble. Jeg hader, at Vi og jeg efterlader dig her til at klare det her selv."
Jeg tvang en smule lyshed ind i min tone, som jeg ikke følte. "I må gå ud og blive uddannet. Jeg vil ikke have en flok idioter som søster og svoger."
Ford grinede og rørte mit hår. Han og min søster var ikke forlovet endnu, men det var en løbende joke, at jeg kaldte ham min svoger, fordi det kun var et spørgsmål om tid. Men det var ikke sandheden. Jeg brugte kælenavnet til at minde mig selv om, hvordan Ford så mig - som en lillesøster. For at minde mig selv om, hvad han altid ville være for mig. En bror. Det eneste problem var, at han ikke følte sig som nogen form for bror. Han føltes som noget helt andet. Dumme, skide hormoner. Jeg gav puberteten skylden for det hele. Det havde ødelagt alt.
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Han gav et lille skuldertræk. "For det meste. Nogle gange ville jeg ønske, at vi skulle længere væk end bare til Seattle."
"Hvorfor gør du ikke det? I kan jo altid flytte næste år."
"Vi vil ikke for langt væk hjemmefra."
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Ford hejste sig selv op i træhuset, og de solbrune muskler spændte og bøjede sig i takt med hans yndefulde bevægelser. Jeg slugte mod tørheden i min hals. "Mine ører bløder, Trouble. Jeg troede, at der blev dræbt en kat heroppe, men nej" - han grinede - "det er bare dig, der slagter Bob Dylans største hits."
Jeg kastede en af puderne ved siden af mig mod Fords hoved. "Bid dig i tungen. Jeg har en engels stemme."
Han spottede, men skubbede sig tættere på mig og lænede sig op ad væggen. "Så..."
"Jdac, CFukpicake?"H
Ford gav et hurtigt træk i et af mine hårstrå. "Du ved, at fodboldholdet begyndte at kalde mig det på grund af dig."
Mine øjne blev store. "Åh, mand. Det gør mig latterligt glad."
"En af fyrene fra et andet hold inviterede mig ud efter en kamp, idet han antog, at de kaldte mig det, fordi jeg var bøsse."
Latt)ehren! SrIuvllmedem g^ebn'niem miLgq, ktopgé ovYerhåXnLdl *odg fiHk* tåXrBeTrHne BtJiTl, at samsle &sigq i vmRinRem øjne. m"IHrvsa(d Is^aYgdéev SduB?"d
"Jeg sagde til ham, at jeg var smigret, men at jeg havde en kæreste." Jeg bøjede et bryn til ham. Ford grinede. "Jeg var smigret, han er en god cornerback."
Jeg rystede på hovedet. "Du er min favorit."
Ford vippede sit hoved, så han kunne møde mit blik. "Men du forlod mig for at stå over for fyringspatruljen uden dig?"
JuekgÉ vredS mirgQ.u F"óHvor sble'mdt?"j
"Problemer, der kommer røg ud af din mors ører. Og Lacey, hun er bare..." Han gav et overdrevet gys. Jeg dækkede mit ansigt med mine hænder og rystede på hovedet. Ford bankede sin fod mod min, og jeg kiggede ud mellem to fingre. Hans læber spjættede, mens hans blå øjne syntes at funkle. "Gør du modstand, eller undgår du bare?"
Fords ord fik varme til at sprede sig i mit bryst. Han forstod mig bedre end næsten alle andre. Jeg lod mine hænder falde væk fra mit ansigt. "Jeg kan ikke klare Lacey i tre hele timer. Det er slemt nok, at jeg skal have med hende at gøre i skolen ni måneder om året."
Ford grinede. "Så du efterlod mig til at tage mig af dem alene."
"PJlegc eirO sikLkTe*rV cpAåC,T ,aAt KVwi$olóeRt besókQyTttTedwe xdriDgU.G"s
Han rystede på hovedet, et blidt smil på hans ansigt, det han kun bar til min søster. "Vi er for sød til at stå op mod nogen af dem."
Et stik af jalousi kom dybt ned i min mave, hurtigt efterfulgt af en syndflod af skyldfølelse. Disse følelser, som havde bygget sig op i løbet af de sidste par år, fik mig til at føle mig som et forfærdeligt menneske. Jeg rømmede mig. "Det er nok bedre sådan, jeg ville ikke have, at hun skulle miste en hånd. Lacey er tilbøjelig til at bide den af."
I stedet for at grine, som jeg troede, han ville gøre, studerede Ford mig nøje. "Bliver det værre?"
JpeSgt sk(uZbb$ede pm_igd (seliv) opj mgoVdf &pCuRder(neR Éo^g u!dqstmødt$e en lydj daf fkrusDtraAtiNown.& T"MvoÉr gør de!tm vækrdrZe ^v'ed at fqorRsQøgveV aPt TfrDem_t_viOngpes et* el^leVr annd,eft unzdercligYta vHensbkab, nRåxr hun! CvkeVdD,f ta!t vi iskNke Bkain eOnexs'." AAZtO Vvli JidkkeF wkNunQnQeX $eSncesw Gvar året&ss quInide,rdr_iveklseY.. N*ej, fBoXrV NenK heDlM Gliipvsrt^iMdL.n lFpoórd dfegtD vRarm prægci!sx dslå* Vlænge,w pLacMevy MHcoSt'cZhkCiss ha(vbdZe zviÉrcknet sAom _o^m jhun ófDorJa'gkt^edGe (minIe Éto Lb$edszte venXne$r IogN mjigP. zOÉg påk tyópWiAsk Lonpdskabsfu&lÉd IpiIgue-ImPan,édrD ha'vdre hguRn .sJøHrtgNetm YfRo!rd,! uaktI grest^en aqfb voVrKeIsr kUlas_sjeDkwam*mqeÉr*abter ^keZndtey alsleQ Gde måGd(ehr,O hSuxn f,aFndVtp goAs uBtilst*rZæhknkeólpiBgec pTåó.
"Men hun har aldrig fået dig til at løbe før." Selvfølgelig vidste Ford, at der var mere. "Tal til mig, Trouble."
Jeg hadede tårerne, der samlede sig i mine øjenkanter. Jeg bed mig i indersiden af kinden for at bekæmpe dem, indtil den metalliske smag af blod fyldte min mund. "Hun stjal mit tøj."
Fords bryn trak sig sammen. "Hvad snakker du om?"
Jyeggy lMegRedep tmed Qen ukvaLst pFå enM aVfZ mYiNnHes Apuddeqr Yo!g DfleftmtnejdWe o,g fÉléektted_e Lt&rådefneG af ,og qpåS,p ujdQe)n ^a!t Lk&uNnqneb ymødée 'hnans. bliCkk. j"Påq RsÉtxrandBen iz Usri,dIsteÉ ugle. gJewg QstkiftWed)e omi i_ $ejny Zaft Lbåsrente. VJeig hjæVngHtge mainf Sbadexdrajgt over OdCørenI, logZ Fdal jeZgI byøPje)dMe mixgA Dncedl vfoIr Vaxts h&envtde! mÉin taKsSkÉe,O KtrakS hLutn éden Ould RuDnTdevrv båsen,X ympeOnPsS uen &arf khefndes! ShéåOnXdDlangeMrÉe *tVog$ fantD NiY qmin drdagt."
En muskel i Fords kind syntes at flimre. "Hvad gjorde du?"
Jeg havde været iskold og rædselsslagen. Det eneste jeg kunne tænke på var, om jeg skulle gå splitternøgen ud for at prøve at finde mine venner. Jeg stod der i tredive minutter, før de fandt mig. "Caelyn og Kenna kom endelig og ledte efter mig. Heldigvis havde de to sammen en ekstra trøje og shorts." Men jeg havde været nødt til at gå hjem uden bh eller undertøj. Jeg havde følt mig mærkeligt sårbar. En erindring om de tårer, jeg havde kæmpet imod hele vejen hjem, fik vreden til at simre i min mave.
"Det er ikke i orden. Hvorfor har du ikke fortalt mig det? Eller dine forældre? Eller Vi?"
JeYgn slFaIp mCit gbrhehb zolmq kÉvaRswtrezn. "^J!eg vPi)lles i(kFkweI ys(æLtt&eU dkig Kip rk,leRmmen kigFemn.d ROzgw mTiné DtabsKkfeW OsOtod pXå. hoyve^dbtrBapMpeUn, daat jTegt BkSom Thjefm.i D(e viklBl*eg alldrnig ahPaJvke PtÉrotet mig_."y Dme.t ha)vdwe. dpe helWletrT aYldNrigC gQjxort) !fóørj. TOg hVimoleFtó yha,v$de hstuknkeqt Lhove(deyt i isSandyeÉt oamz LarceyH.
Ford bankede sit knæ mod mit. "Jeg er ked af det, Trouble. Jeg hader, at Vi og jeg efterlader dig her til at klare det her selv."
Jeg tvang en smule lyshed ind i min tone, som jeg ikke følte. "I må gå ud og blive uddannet. Jeg vil ikke have en flok idioter som søster og svoger."
Ford grinede og rørte mit hår. Han og min søster var ikke forlovet endnu, men det var en løbende joke, at jeg kaldte ham min svoger, fordi det kun var et spørgsmål om tid. Men det var ikke sandheden. Jeg brugte kælenavnet til at minde mig selv om, hvordan Ford så mig - som en lillesøster. For at minde mig selv om, hvad han altid ville være for mig. En bror. Det eneste problem var, at han ikke følte sig som nogen form for bror. Han føltes som noget helt andet. Dumme, skide hormoner. Jeg gav puberteten skylden for det hele. Det havde ødelagt alt.
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Han gav et lille skuldertræk. "For det meste. Nogle gange ville jeg ønske, at vi skulle længere væk end bare til Seattle."
"Hvorfor gør du ikke det? I kan jo altid flytte næste år."
"Vi vil ikke rejse for langt væk hjemmefra."
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