Melissa's POV
When I woke up, I wasn't in my bed. I sat up alert. No one was around, and I didn't hear anyone in the house. I didn't recognize anything in the room, but I did notice the view outside.
It took me only a minute to realize I was in the room down the hall from mine, Derek's.
I had to fight to remember why I was in his bedroom until this afternoon came rushing back.
Everyone hated me, even Carter and my mom. And Derek made me feel wanted, and.... cared for. I was grateful for Derek right now. I sat there for a while, debating what to do next, but finally came to the conclusion , that I wasn't going to let my moment of weakness stop me from getting up from this bed and enjoy my day, well what was left of it.
I swung my legs over the bed, and went to go to the door, but before I could take a second step, I tripped over what felt like to be a box.
I turned around, wincing at the slight pain in my wrist, and saw s rather large brown shoe box. I debated for a second weither I should look in it, then deciding since it injured me, I had the right to know what I was tripping over.
I listened for a second, no one had entered the house, deciding the coast was clear, I opened the shoe box.
There was a thick book with a leather cover. It looked to thick to be a journal, curiosity getting the best of me, I opened the book and was confused looking at the words scrawled on it.
I didn't recognize the language, then again I can only recognize like 3 languages and obviously this one was not one of them.
I flipped a few pages and stopped when I saw the english translation on the side of the original script. The poem was titled, Hatred. I read the english version and couldn't help but feel suspicious, this poem described exactly what happened to me.
I felt unnerved at the coincidence until I remembered something: I don't believe in coincidences.
"What are you doing on the floor?" Derek asked from the doorway. I jumped from where I sat, realizing he couldn't see what I was holding in my hands. I tried not to show my suspicion too him, and as quickly and quietly as possible, I placed the book back in the box, getting a quick peak at the other contents of the box. There was a few candles, and another few objects I couldn't recognized.
"Call me clutsy?" I said, trying not to show any unnecessary emotions to him.
"Here let me help you." He said, I shoved the box under the bed before he saw anything, I gave a light sigh that he didn't hear thankfully.
"Can I get you anything to drink or eat?" He asked, while pulling me up from the floor by my arms. He was gentle and sweet, except I couldn't shake what I just found. Why was there a hatred poem in his room? Or... was it a spell? But werewolves can't do magic! What the hell was going on?! I was going to call Ryan but figuring the more I let him deal with his business, the sooner he'll be home. With that thought I was going to go to the second person with authority around here, Andrew.
"Actually, I need to go do something, be back in 10 minutes?" I asked, trying not to make him suspect that I knew something. He looked hesitant for a moment, before smiling stiffly and nodding. I smiled at him one last time before leaving his bedroom.
I raced out of the house while pulling out my phone. I couldn't help but notice the dirty looks I got from the people walking by on the sidewalk and I felt a pang in my chest once again. Hopefully, with Andrew's help, everyone will be back to normal soon enough.
Andrew's POV
I was driving to Ashley's house when I got the call.
I checked my called I.D. only to see it was Mel. I sighed in annoyance, which shocked me. Why did I sigh? I like Melissa, she was nice and perfect for my best friend, so why did I feel bothered by her?
YOU ARE READING
Were-Magic (Were-series book 1)
WerewolfMelissa has moved again because of her heartbroken mother, but now Melissa and her mother are the new pack members to the Riverpack. Melissa is also the new student in a school where the uniforms are purposely too small and too tight for the girl...