(A/N: The song "It Must Be Love" by Don Williams played softly as the scene unfolded.)
---
I think I'm in love.
I woke up to the stillness of the morning, but something was off. The room felt empty—too empty. As I glanced around, I realized he was gone.
Panic clawed at my chest, sharp and unfamiliar. My heart thundered as I jumped to my feet, my body stiff with unease. I moved quickly, searching every corner of the house. Down the hallway, through the spare rooms—nothing. My thoughts spiraled with worry. For the first time in years, fear gripped me so tightly it felt suffocating.
I wanted to cry, to let the fear swallow me whole, but I pushed it down, repeating to myself, You're fine. You're strong. You're a big girl. I said it like a prayer, willing myself to believe it.
Then, I found him.
He was sitting by the window, the golden morning light casting a halo around him. His expression was distant, his thoughts clearly somewhere far away. Relief washed over me, leaving me trembling. He hadn't spoken, hadn't moved, but I didn't care. He was safe. That was all that mattered.
I hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "Hi… um…"
He turned his head, his lips curving into a soft smile. "Jake," he said simply, his voice warm and steady. "Or Jay, if you prefer."
"Hi, Jay," I stammered, trying to steady my voice. "I was just…"
"Looking for me?" he finished, a knowing gleam in his eyes.
I nodded.
He stood and stretched. "Are you hungry? Let's make breakfast."
---
After we ate, I sat there savoring a slice of cake, as I always did. It had become my little ritual—a small, sweet comfort that grounded me in uncertain times. Somehow, it made everything feel just a little more manageable.
As I took another bite, my thoughts drifted. My gaze lingered on Jay as I tried to make sense of the strange pull I felt toward him. There was something about him, something different from anyone I'd known. Taylor included.
Do I love him?
The thought hit me like a jolt, lingering in my mind like a forbidden secret.
And then I remembered: Jay could hear my thoughts.
I froze, my eyes snapping up to meet his. Sure enough, he was looking at me with that maddeningly smug smile, as if he'd known all along.
"Don't worry," he said, his voice calm, almost teasing. "I won't tell anyone."
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I quickly looked away, wishing I could vanish into thin air. Sometimes, I wished I could read his thoughts, too, just to level the playing field. But Jay was a puzzle—one I wasn't sure I'd ever fully solve.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of conversation. We talked about everything and nothing, the hours slipping by like sand through my fingers. I learned more about him than I'd expected to.
His full name was Jake Keller Shakespeare, the eldest son of Thomas Simpson Shakespeare. The name carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. Thomas was one of the darkest vampires in existence, a member of the second generation of originals. But the most surprising detail? Jay had been turned on January 1, 1519. The same day I was born.
It wasn't a coincidence. I could feel it in my bones. But when I tried to ask, Jay only gave me a cryptic smile. "Some things are better left unsaid," he murmured.
---
"I, Noah Taylor, reject you, Gift Hunter, as my mate and Luna."
The words haunted me, a cruel echo that refused to fade. What the hell had I done? How could I have been so blind, so foolish?
I hadn't just lost my mate. I'd lost my chance at redemption, at healing the broken parts of myself.
Gift's face flashed in my mind—those deep, soulful eyes brimming with tears as I shattered her heart. My mom had been right. My stupidity had ruined everything.
Oman, my wolf, was seething. His rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. And when he took control, destruction followed.
I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. I was spiraling.
Then, I caught a scent—a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that made my pulse race. I followed it instinctively, my heart pounding with something I couldn't name. The scent led me to a girl with blonde hair and peach eyes. She was beautiful, sure, but as I stood there, all I could see was Gift.
Her dark eyes. Her soft lips. Her hair—half black, half brown. No one else could ever compare.
I turned away from the blonde girl without a second thought. She wasn't what I wanted. She could never be her.
Frustrated, I returned home, my mind a chaotic mess. I needed help—Jake's help. If anyone could find her, it was him.
But when I told my mom, her reaction was explosive.
"You rejected your mate, and now you want to risk your life to find her?" she yelled, her eyes blazing. "And you want to go to them? The Simpsons Clan? Are you out of your mind?"
"I don't have a choice!" I shouted back. "I need her. Oman and I are losing control. If I don't fix this, it'll destroy me."
"You found another mate!" she snapped, gesturing toward the blonde girl lingering in the doorway.
"She's not my mate," I said coldly. "And she never will be."
My mom's face hardened. "You're playing with fire, Noah. If you go to the Simpsons Clan, you'll get yourself killed."
"Then let it kill me," I muttered, storming out of the house.
The air was thick with tension as I stood at the edge of the boundary. The ancient, shimmering line separating our lands felt alive, crackling with energy.
"Sir Taylor," the guard called behind me, but I didn't respond.
I placed my hand on the border, and the world around me blurred.
I was heading into the heart of the Simpsons Clan, into the unknown.
But I had to do it.
For her.