Melody POV
I woke up after a good few hours of sleep. I slept like a baby, and now that I was awake, the fun could start. I rose from the bed and noticed all the balloons Haylie had hung from the ceiling were still floating there.
Since she wasn't here, it felt a bit silly. I walked over to the window and gathered the balloons, releasing them into the air. Once they were all out, I could finally breathe.
Next, I checked Haylie's cupboard to see what clothes she had. It was mostly white, blue, and a bit of green—nothing black at all. Letting out a heavy sigh, I decided to use my magic to get dressed the way I liked.
I chose a pair of mini black shorts, a black shirt, a black jacket, and some sneakers. I finished off the look with black round earrings. I love the color black.
Knowing Haylie doesn't wear makeup, and not being into it myself, I admired how her red hair looked against my new black outfit in the mirror. I felt like a badass.
With that thought in mind, I made my way downstairs, greeted by the warm aroma of breakfast.
The smell of meat turned me off, but the scent of toast and eggs was heavenly. I followed the smell, which led me to the kitchen.
"Good morning, sunshine!" a woman said cheerfully.
I managed to pull a smile as I saw a woman in her early 40s with beautiful long blonde hair.
"Good morning," I replied.
I entered the kitchen and walked over to the woman at the stove, busy preparing breakfast. Without her noticing, I used my magic discreetly to uncover what she meant to Haylie.
While I looked like Haylie, I didn't have her memories. Beneath this façade, I was still Melody.
With a subtle flick of my fingers, I cast my spell, and flashes of Aunt Camelia's connection to Haylie flooded my mind.
The vision took me back to when Haylie was born.
Aunt Camelia had been a part of her life from the very beginning. The memories showed Haylie growing up in a cozy little house, where she used to lived with her mother and Aunt Camelia.
But everything changed when Haylie's mother passed away. She was only five years old, left without anyone—except for Aunt Camelia, who took her in and raised her as if she were her own daughter.
A tear slid down my cheek. It was heartbreaking to realize that Haylie only had Aunt Camelia, and, even more tragically, they weren't even related by blood. I thought about my brothers—we were bound by family.
But Haylie? She had nothing, no one except the woman standing before me.
"Haylie, are you okay?" I heard Aunt Camelia's voice pull me back to the present.
Quickly, I forced a smile and replied, "Yes, of course, Aunt Camelia."
I had to steady myself. They couldn't find out I wasn't truly Haylie.
Trying to mimic her mannerisms, I added, "Is there anything I can help you with in the kitchen?"
Aunt Camelia's face softened with a warm smile. "If you'd like, you can set the table."
I took a deep breath, realizing that if I was going to be Haylie for a while, I'd need to rely on a lot of magic to figure things out.
I discreetly cast another spell to locate where the plates, forks, and knives were kept—I had no idea otherwise. Once the spell revealed their spots, I grabbed the plates and began setting the table, decorating it as best as I could.
By the time I finished, Aunt Camelia had completed cooking and started serving breakfast.
We sat down to eat. It felt so different from the noisy, chaotic breakfasts I was used to at home with my brothers. Here, it was calm, almost too quiet. I picked at the toast and eggs on my plate, avoiding the sausage and bacon. Meat wasn't my thing—I never liked it and would rather eat almost anything else.
"So, how was the outing yesterday with Liam?" Aunt Camelia asked, breaking the silence.
I hesitated for a moment, taking a bite of my toast to buy time. From what I could recall, yesterday had been Haylie's birthday. That meant I needed to say something believable, something Haylie herself might have said.
"It was amazing! I had the best birthday ever," I replied, hoping it sounded convincing.
Aunt Camelia smiled warmly, but I could feel my stomach knotting. This was going to be harder than I thought.
Maybe school would be easier—less personal questions, more time to think. Rising from my chair, I quickly said, "I have to go. I don't want to be late."
Aunt Camelia looked surprised. "Aren't you going to finish your food?" she asked.
Grabbing another piece of toast, I smiled apologetically. "I'm not that hungry, but I'll see you later."
Before she could say more, I walked over, kissed her on the cheek, and hurried out the door.
Liam POV
As the early sun rose, I headed to the shower, eager to get ready. Today, I was determined to confront Haylie. I wanted answers, and I wasn't going to let it go until I got them.
After dressing quickly, I went to the kitchen, grabbed a slice of toast, and slung my school bag over my shoulder. Chewing on the toast, I made my way to my bike. That's when I heard my wolf's voice in my head.
"You need to find out the truth. Those rogue wolves are no good. If they get anywhere near Haylie, I'll tear them apart."
His anger mirrored my own, a fiery determination burning within me. I threw my school bag over my back, grabbed my helmet, and slipped it on. Switching on the engine, I felt the bike roar to life beneath me, its hum grounding me in the moment.
The ride to Haylie's house was quick, the engine purring as I turned onto her street.
When I came to a stop at the curb, I saw her stepping out of the house. I killed the engine, removed my helmet, and dismounted the bike.
My gaze caught on her unusual outfit—black from head to toe, paired with shorts so short they barely counted as clothing. It was the first time I'd seen her wear anything like that.
She noticed me and beamed, her smile as bright as the morning sun. "Good morning, my handsome," she said, her voice light and playful as she walked toward me.
I forced a smile and replied, "Good morning. How did my princess sleep?"
Haylie stopped just in front of me, her hand slipping into mine. The warmth of her touch sent a small jolt through me, though I couldn't shake the unease in my chest.
"Just like a princess," she said with a sweet smile.
I chuckled softly, a weak attempt to mask the tension bubbling beneath the surface. "Well, princess," I began, keeping my voice steady but firm, "there's something I need to talk to you about."
Her emerald eyes locked onto mine, searching for answers. "Is everything okay?" she asked softly.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Why don't we grab some coffee at that shop on Lavender Road? It's still early, and we'll make it to school on time."
A smile spread across her lips, warm and effortless. "That sounds like a great idea," she replied.
We both climbed onto the bike. I helped her adjust the helmet, ensuring it was secure before slipping on my own. Once we were ready, I started the engine, the low rumble filling the air as we took off toward the coffee shop.
The ride was short, the morning air crisp against our skin.
I pulled up in front of the shop, the engine purring to a stop as I switched it off. Dismounting the bike, I turned to help Haylie off, carefully removing her helmet.
With her hair falling free, she looked at me with a soft smile, and together, we stepped into the coffee shop.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted us like an old friend, wrapping around us with comforting warmth. The quiet hum of conversation and the gentle clinking of mugs created a cozy, inviting atmosphere. It felt like the perfect place to talk—neutral, yet intimate.
I walked up to the counter and ordered two takeaway coffees.
The man behind the counter nodded, swiftly filling two disposable cups before handing them over. I took them, turning back to Haylie. "Here," I said, offering her one.
"Thank you," she said with a soft smile, accepting the cup.
We made our way to a nearby table and sat down. Once seated, I grabbed two packets of sugar, tore them open, and poured them into my coffee.
Picking up the plastic stir stick, I mixed the sugar in, the quiet clink of the stick against the cup breaking the silence between us.
"Is everything okay? Is this about yesterday?" Haylie asked as she prepared her coffee, her green eyes glancing up at me curiously.
I took a sip of my coffee, the warmth doing little to calm the tension swirling inside me. Taking a deep breath, I decided to stop beating around the bush. "Haylie, why did you meet with JC the other night? And why was he here?"
Her brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her face. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"I know he's been messaging you," I said, my tone firmer now. "I know you two met up the other night. So, what's going on, Haylie?"
Her expression softened as she looked at me, her emerald eyes no longer guarded. Her hand reached out and rested on mine, her touch sending an unexpected wave of calm through me.
But as I glanced down, I noticed something missing—her wrist was bare.
The bracelet she'd bought for the two of us, the one she'd insisted we both wear, was gone.
I looked back up at her, a thousand questions spinning in my mind, but her voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Liam," she said gently, "you don't have to worry about him."
Her words were steady, reassuring. "I told him we couldn't see each other," she continued, her gaze unwavering. "I made it clear that I'm not interested in him and that he needs to stay away from me."
I swallowed hard, the tension in my chest refusing to ease.
Lifting my coffee, I took a slow sip, hoping the warmth would ground me. Yet, my wolf stirred restlessly in the back of my mind, his unease bleeding into my thoughts. What's bothering him so much?
"Haylie," I began, my voice soft yet firm as I squeezed her hand in mine, "you know rogue wolves are the ones you need to stay away from."
She nodded, her expression resolute. "I know, Liam. And I am. He's not going to bother me anymore," she said, her tone laced with conviction.
I let out a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I tried to calm the storm within me.
Haylie was someone who always kept her word—when she said something, she meant it. So, why couldn't I shake this feeling of unease, this gnawing sense that something was off?
My gaze drifted to her wrist again, and the absence of the bracelet hit me like a cold wave. The bracelet she'd insisted we wear as a symbol of our love.
The one she'd said would always remind her of what we meant to each other. And now, it was gone.
"Liam, don't worry," her voice broke through my spiraling thoughts, gentle yet firm. Her eyes searched mine, trying to reassure me.
I pulled my hand away from hers, wrapping it around my coffee cup instead. "I'm just thinking," I muttered, taking a long sip to avoid her gaze.
But the truth was, I wasn't just thinking. I was questioning. Doubting. Trying to silence the voice in my head that told me something was missing. Something wasn't right.