Melina Caruso carried a secret in her veins - a blood that was both a blessing and a curse. When her unique gift attracted the attention of the hidden world of the Immortals, a game of power and passion began that would change Melina's life forever...
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In school, care must be taken to ensure that children learn not only with their minds but that their hearts are also educated.
Wilhelm II (1859 - 1941)
His features resembled the ornate images of Greek sculptures, skillfully crafted from white marble, lifelike and perfectly formed.
A pale white colour covered his face's flawless and perfect-looking skin, enclosing the challenging angular square of his strong jaw and the soft enveloping curves of his full lips, which were further emphasized by the high structure-forming cheekbones.
The young man's smooth skin covered his high, wrinkle-free forehead, partially interrupted by scattered strands of rain-darkened bronze hair, which supported the colourful light-dark contrast of the hair and eyebrows.
Wide, warm eyes surrounded by a thick, sweeping ring of black eyelashes looked up to reveal topaz-coloured rainbow skin that seemed to glow like liquid gold around the black pupil.
His lips formed into an inviting smile.
"My name is Edward Cullen."
My eyes opened with a jerk, and I immediately began to fight against the heaviness of my eyelids, sticky from sleep. Temporarily blurred, they took in the bare ceiling, whose white intensity, untouched by colour, allowed a certain brightness within the room despite the little dark light coming in and already seemed to herald the beginning of the day.
Blinking, I ran my hand over my forehead and felt the unpleasant dampness of night sweat, which clung to the skin of my hand and remained dry after a few seconds.
"Edward Cullen..." I murmured thoughtlessly. Small fragments of the past night's vision overshadowed my inner eye and began to circle around the young man in my mind.
According to yesterday's information, the Cullen family had moved to the Olympic Peninsula two years ago and had settled in a wooded area near the town. The head of the family, Carlisle Cullen, worked alongside my aunt at the local Forks Hospital and was considered a respected and highly esteemed medical and nursing staff member. On the other hand, his wife Esme took the path of art and creativity and, as a busy architect, showed great interest in restoring old and dilapidated buildings and houses.
A passion that was evident in every corner of my room, supporting her enthusiasm and dedication.
Like Cora's description, the young-looking couple and their five adopted teenage children left a long-lasting and rumour-fueled impression among the residents of Forks and the surrounding area when they entered the small community.
This includes, in all likelihood, the middle of my new school, which I was to visit for the first time today under the watchful eyes of every pupil and member of staff based there.
🙨
Curious, my grey-blue eyes travelled over the sizeable two-story building constructed of old bricks on South Spartan Avenue, which was already lined with carts and vans.
The maroon colour of the stones darkened increasingly under the persistent drizzle of clouds over the city, whose extensive coverage and density impenetrably prevented the warming rays of the rising sun. The bright green grass caused by the rain surrounded the few unused areas of the large, overgrown property, while in isolated places, trim shrubs and trees decorated the dreary, monotone exterior of the school, trying to beautify it.
I could make out a small section of the asphalt parking lot to the right of the main entrance next to the rusty brown welcome sign, which, along with the roads leading past the school, added to the necessary rush of the 358 students and staff now attending the high school.
Loud, sometimes jumbled voices drifted across the parking lot in my direction, excitedly recounting the experiences of the recently ended spring break and the start of today's new school semester.
Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the white stone main entrance with trembling knees, my black and green heeled shoes clicking on the wet stone walkways and following the other classmates, leading me into the school's laid out entrance area with the large head of the Spartan Warrior emblazoned on the floor in the centre.
I carefully closed my umbrella and let the remaining raindrops drip onto the smooth floor while my gaze followed the various signs and markings in search of the secretary's office.
"You're Melina Caruso, the new girl," a friendly, excited-sounding voice suddenly rang out near me, and I looked startled at the dark brown eyes of a young Asian man I didn't know.
"Hey, I'm Eric, the eyes and ears of this place," he immediately introduced himself with a broad smile, revealing his straight white teeth.
"It's nice to meet you," I replied with a small smile. My ears still rang with the loud pounding of my heart, which slowed down by the second, and the adrenaline-fueled volume in my ears began to diminish.
"Do you need a tour, a lunch date, a shoulder to cry on?" Erik continued to ask, his widening smile now resembling an elongated grimace that stretched across the lower part of his face and looked too exaggeratedly cheerful in my eyes.
I smirked slightly at his suggestions, and my eyes darted around the divided corridors, which were gradually filling up with people of many ages as classes were about to begin. Their footsteps, which varied in weight and pace, echoed off the walls and made for a lively, audible bustle in the school corridors.
I lowered my head as I could feel their interested eyes on me as soon as they passed us, despite the hectic pace of most of the students. The general small-town curiosity caused them to momentarily pause their conversations with their conducted interlocutors and friends and turn in our direction with curiosity comparable to the reaction at the Carver Café, making no attempt to contain or conceal their obviousness.
A matter that would, with a reasonably predictable certainty, take up the rest of the day and drag on for the rest of the week.
"Could you possibly show me the way to the secretary's office...I have to submit some documents..." I asked the Asian politely, in my feeble efforts to avoid my classmates' increasing stares, and reached for my large shoulder bag.
"Of course..." Erik interrupted me immediately, his forehead-covered black hair swirling under his jerky head movements before he led me to the school office with an exaggerated hand gesture and under the piercing stares of the oncoming crowds.
