The Cove E-Book

Trinity Nicole

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Cove Chronicles
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 343

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

One town, one girl, and one bite changed everything ...
Nyx Drew has lived every day of her life with an ominous sense that she is different–that she is somehow living a lie. Her athleticism, shrewd intellect, and incapsulating beauty were never enough to silence the voices in her head telling her she is not who she thinks she is.
When Jaxson Vitale moves to town with secrets and baggage of his own, every belief she has about herself threatens to become a reality. Their introduction awakens a sleuth of complicated feelings and unexplored emotions that neither of them understands, but both are determined to.
And Jaxson’s older brother, Markos, may have all the answers both are searching for.
In their efforts to uncover the truth, a force from Jaxson and Markos' past unites with a sinister purpose. Faced with this formidable threat, the two brothers find they will do anything and everything to protect Nyx.

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2024 by Trinity Nicole.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 979-8-218-47035-7 (Paperback)

ISBN: 979-8-218-47036-4 (E-book)

This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

Cover design by Vivien Reis

Interior design by Abdul Rehman

Editing by Yoanna Stefanova

Published by Dear Diary Books

First printing edition 2024

For those who saw the darkness others chose to ignore and dared to shine a light.

Sometimes, people write the things they can’t say.

- Haley James-Scott, One Tree Hill

Contents

Prologue

Jaxson

Chapter 1: Jaxson

Markos

Chapter 2: Nyx

Chapter 3: Nyx

Jaxson

Chapter 4: Nyx

Chapter 5: Jaxson

Chapter 6: Nyx

Chapter 7: Jaxson

Chapter 8: Markos

Chapter 9: Jaxson

Markos: Chapter 10

Markos: Chapter 11

Jaxson

Chapter 12: Markos

Chapter 13: Jaxson

Chapter 14: Nyx

Chapter 15: Jaxson

Markos

Chapter 16: Nyx

Chapter 17: Jaxson

Markos

Chapter 18: Nyx

Jaxson

Chapter 19: Jaxson

Chapter 20: Nyx

Markos

Chapter 21: Nyx

Chapter 22: Jaxson

Chapter 23: Markos

Jaxson

Chapter 24: Nyx

Chapter 25: Jaxson

Chapter 26: Nyx

Chapter 27: Nyx

Chapter 28: Nyx

Chapter 29: Jaxson

Chapter 30: Jaxson

Chapter 31: Jaxson

Chapter 32: Nyx

Chapter 33: Jaxson

Chapter 34: Jaxson

Chapter 35: Nyx

Chapter 36: Markos

Jaxson

Chapter 37: Nyx

Markos

Chapter 38: Jaxson

Chapter 39: Markos

Nyx

Chapter 40: Jaxson

Chapter 41: Markos

Chapter 42: Nyx

Chapter 43: Markos

Chapter 44: Jaxson

Chapter 45: Markos

Markos

Chapter 46: Jaxson

Chapter 47: Markos

Jaxson

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Prologue

To our daughter,

Tonight, we find ourselves confronted with a decision we fervently wish we could avoid. Tonight, we entrust your precious life to the care of two people uniquely equipped to offer you the protection and safety that elude our grasp.

When we realized the imminent threat posed to us, we embarked on a quest to find nurturing and compassionate parents for you. We sought individuals capable of providing the profound love we yearned to shower upon you. Paradoxically, our act of relinquishing you serves as a testament to the depths of our affection. Entrusting you to those whose mere presence won't pose a perpetual peril is our unconventional yet earnest expression of love—a sacrifice made for your safety and well-being.

In the months we have spent vigilantly observing and studying potentials, we found this in Missy and Dixon Drew. We harbor no uncertainty that they will tend to you with a devotion that we wish we had the space to give. They will give you not only stability but grace and nurture. This proclamation we make without reservation.

It inflicts us much pain to sacrifice you and live our lives without ever seeing you smile, laugh, cry, or love. In fact, after tonight, we will never truly live again. Tonight, an unquenchable hole will eternally reside in our chests, a vacancy that will persist until we take our last breath.

If ever a day comes wherein things are different and we do not pose a danger to you, we solemnly declare this night that we will return to you, our cherished daughter. This pledge we extend with earnest sincerity. May the home Missy and Dixon have found in Cinder Cove, Montana, provide you with a haven of safety that we could not.

With perpetual love and an affection that transcends time, we remain yours now and for all eternity.

Sincerely,

Your Mother and Father

Jaxson

November 27

I haven’t written in a long time. Truthfully, there hasn’t been much to say. Tomorrow morning, we’re leaving the Collect to live with Markos in Cinder Cove, Montana. Holly is still so confused about ... well, everything. How do you explain the death of your parents to an eight-year-old girl who still views the world with such innocence and light? More than that, how do you explain something you don’t even fully understand yourself?

Our Alphas said it was human hunters—that they invaded our lands and murdered our parents while they were in their animal form. Probably for their fur, they said. It’s been hard to accept it all … to function ... even breathing has been hard. Nothing like this has ever happened in Two. We rarely encounter humans in our compound. For the most part, we’re completely isolated from human interference. The dangerously high mountain ranges and bitter temperatures are a natural barrier against human intrusion.

The last thing we have to fear is death by human hands, but that’s exactly what happened to my parents. The weight of that realization feels like a millstone is tied around my heart. Not just because of their loss but because I feel like there’s something more to their murder.

Nevertheless, Holly and I couldn’t remain in our Collect. Though undeniably separate in many ways, we’re still subject to the authorities of this country. Subjection to human establishments and powers is one of our mechanisms to avoid discovery. Because of that and the fact that we had no other living relatives in our Collect, Markos—our closest of kin—will become our sole guardian.

So, tomorrow, Holly and I will embark on a collectless life, a life of faux normalcy. As our departure draws near, a singular truth lingers in my mind: we must, for the first time, confront a world beyond the sheltered one we’ve endured our whole lives.

I wonder what awaits us.

Chapter 1

Jaxson

Holly was the first to get out of the car. She jumped from the front seat onto the crisp white blanket of snow that enveloped their new home—Markos’ home. But Jaxson remained in the vehicle, his eyes chained to the house’s textured, mocha-colored wood and steel window awnings. The exterior, hallmarked by an oeuvre of discoloration and weathering, seemed to tell a decades-old story of wear and tear.

He veered his gaze to the left and spotted three large planters in the front yard that had yet to be graced with some variation of greenery. For a fleeting moment, he imagined his mother, her matted, ringleted hair narrowly prancing with the wind as she watered a twirling assemblage of primroses. Jaxson leaned closer to the backseat window, his breath warming the glass as he strained to believe his eyes.

His delusion was rudely interrupted by Holly’s unnecessarily intense knocks on the car window. She mouthed “come on” impatiently before stomping towards the front door. Jaxson fumbled in his pocket for a twenty to tip the RideShare driver. After sifting through coins, receipts, and other boyish items, he finally found the bill and placed it on the center console. The driver nodded in appreciation, and Jaxson returned the gesture with a slight grin before opening the door and settling his feet on the bed of white.

He looked back at the planters, but his mother was gone, and so were the primroses.

Jaxson walked to the porch where Holly stood, one foot cocked out and a hand on her hip, an indication he was taking too long. He exaggerated his struggle to carry their bags to the entrance, hoping to guilt her for not helping, but Holly knew he could easily handle the weight of much more.

“You didn’t want to grab at least one bag?” Jaxson teased, hauling their two large suitcases onto the porch with his duffel and Holly’s backpack on his back.

“Looks like you’ve got it, Hercules,” she joked.

Jaxson settled their belongings on the porch, grateful that their recent ordeal hadn’t hijacked typical sibling shenanigans, even if there was a dark shadow cast over every attempt to laugh or smile. He gestured for Holly to knock on the door, and she peered at him with those beggarly black eyes, a clear signal of her desire for him to be the one to officiate their entry into this new life. Jaxson looked down at his little sister and knew he couldn’t deny her when she looked at him like that, especially after all they had been through.

He hoped she didn’t expect to have the same effect on Markos.

With a playful roll of his eyes, Jaxson hesitated before knocking on the mottled, uneven door. Shortly after, Markos’ silhouette materialized in the residue-covered glass, becoming bigger and bigger as his ghost-like figure approached the doorway. Markos grappled with the doorknob before the door finally creaked open like an old chest, replacing the ghost with that of a man, his older brother.

Markos looked different from the brother who had left the Collect a year ago. Taller and more muscular, he was a far cry from the gaunt eighteen-year-old who barely filled his clothes.

There was something else different about him that Jaxson couldn’t quite diagnose, something broken and sad.

Markos held the door open with one hand, nervously twisting a long black braid that ended near his earlobe with the other. That was new, too—boys weren't allowed to have long hair in their Collect.

“Hey,” Markos said, motioning with his hands for them to come in.

The floorboards creaked as Jaxson and his sister crossed the threshold, taking in their new surroundings. To the left of the entryway was a dark walnut stairwell, its wood looking rotted and dangerous. Adjacent to the stairs was the living room, where a coffee table made of stacked wood slabs stood atop a faded, multicolored rug. The couch was multicolored, too, but Jaxson couldn’t tell if it was the design or the result of numerous stains.

Cracks ran along every corner of the walls, threatening to give way under the weight of the roof. One flaw in particular caught Jaxson’s eye: four deep lines etched into the wall’s surface. As he traced his fingers along them, he realized they were the scratch marks of an animal, each one telling a story of rage and pain.

Noticing their apprehension at the ramshackle conditions of his home, Markos said, “My boss agreed to let me rent this place out. It’s been in his family for years, but no one’s bothered to keep it maintained. I’ve made a few repairs here and there ... ” Seeing they were still disturbed, he stopped his attempt to make them comfortable with this living situation and ended with, “It’s the only thing I could afford.”

Holly and Jaxson nodded with feigned ease to make him feel better, but they were still visibly aghast at their new surroundings. Jaxson wondered how his brother had managed to assimilate so quickly. Now he knew.

“How was the flight?” Markos asked into the silence.

“Verrrrry bumpy,” Holly replied, completely unaffected by the awkwardness of this long-overdue sibling reunion. “Lots of turbo jets.”

“Tur-bu-lence,” Jaxson corrected.

Holly mouthed “turbulence” to herself multiple times to perfect her pronunciation.

Markos nodded, searching desperately for something else to fill the room with.

Thankfully, Holly stepped in. “So ... where do we sleep?”

“Oh,” Markos said quickly, pointing toward the stairwell. “The second door on the left is you all’s room. The first door on the left is the bathroom.”

“Wait,” Holly said, raising her hands in protest. “I have to share a room? With a boy?”

Markos’ eyes narrowed, clearly stunned by her lack of gratitude. “No, you don’t have to share a room; you get to share a room. The two of you would’ve been lucky to be under the same roof if it weren’t for me.”

Holly’s face immediately shifted, along with any hope she may have had of wrapping Markos around her finger like she had done with Jaxson. But he was right. If Markos had not agreed to become their legal guardian, they would have been separated and lost in the foster care system, bouncing from home to home like nomads with no safe place to land.

Jaxson expected Holly’s grim reaction to provoke a touch of compassion from Markos. Maybe an “I didn’t mean it like that” or a “that came out wrong.” After all, she had lost her parents; she would never feel her mother’s touch or her father’s embrace again. That was a dark reality for any little girl, and Jaxson knew her dramatic outbursts and sarcastic quips were just her way of coping.

But his brother stood there plainly, eyes fixed on her, waiting for a response—an apology perhaps—for being so unappreciative. Despite his physical changes, Markos still didn’t do remorse. That part of him remained the same.

Defeated, Holly grabbed her cheetah print backpack with her name etched on the front from Jaxson’s shoulder and walked up the stairs, each step accompanied by shrieking creaks. Jaxson turned from Markos to follow her, gathering the rest of their belongings. Markos attempted to help, but Jaxson shook his chiseled hand away from the suitcase handle.

“I got it,” Jaxson said flatly.

Markos adjusted the toothpick in his mouth and backed away, settling himself on the couch.

“Hey, uh, wait a second,” Markos said, fumbling with a pile of papers on the coffee table. “Here, these are for you and Holly,” he mumbled, folding some papers in half and holding them out for Jaxson to take. “It’s you and Holly’s immunization records, birth certificates ... yeah, all that stuff. CFS sent them over last week so you guys could enroll in school.”

Jaxson set the suitcase down to take the papers from Markos. He glanced at them briefly before tucking them under his arm. “Do we need to give them to someone? You know, at the school?” Jaxson inquired.

“Yeah. An administrator, principal ... someone. Holly will be at Covington Elementary—it’s right up Miller Road,” Markos said. “Cinder Cove High School is a little farther into town, but a bus will pick both of you up at the corner of Shiloh and Lindy every day. So, yeah. Be sure to tell Holly.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Jaxson looked up at his brother, searching for something to say to bridge the gap between them, something to bring them together, something to strengthen their bond. But his mind was blank, devoid of any words to fill the space separating them. So, he grabbed the rest of their stuff and followed his sister upstairs.

Markos

November 28

When our parents died, I realized it meant one of two things: Jaxson and Holly would be in my care, or they would be in the care of a stranger. As horrible as it sounds, I didn't mind the latter. I had already prepared my spiel for when CFS inevitably called: I’m in no position financially, emotionally, or mentally to care for not one but two minors.

And this was true. Working twelve-hour shifts at the lumber yard barely brings in enough to pay the rent. But it isn’t the whole truth, which technically makes it a lie. Every secret I’ve committed to keeping buried is in this house. In time, anyone living under this roof would unearth what I was determined to keep beneath the surface, and then, it wouldn't just be me in danger. It would be all who uncovered the truth.

I don’t even know what changed my mind. Morality, maybe? Family values? The part of me that's human? Maybe it was the innate desire within me not to be alone. Or maybe, deep down, I want someone to find out the truth. Misery does love company. I don’t know. All I know is that when I finally got the call I’d been waiting for, the words I prepared left me, and all I could say was, “I understand, and they can live with me.”

I don’t know what the result will be when all is said and done. All I know is that there's no ‘if’ Jaxson and Holly will find out. It's when.

Chapter 2

Nyx

Nyx took one final glance in the mirror. She studied her reflection intensely, scrutinizing her cinnamon-colored skin and her long, raven-black curls for the slightest imperfection, but she found none. Her skin seemed to emanate, even without a single sun ray filtering through her window. Her mass of spirals and waves lay cozily over her bust, with every strand housed perfectly within a coil. Satisfied, Nyx hoisted her backpack over her shoulders and rushed for the stairs, skipping steps with a grace that conflicted with her speed.

She beamed into the kitchen where her parents were gathered at the dining nook, sipping coffee and engaging in typical morning chitchat.

“Morning!” Nyx chirped as she scoured the pantry for something quick to eat.

Dixon glanced up from the article he was reading on his e-reader and smiled. “Good morning, Nixon,” he greeted her, using his favorite nickname for her that playfully echoed his own.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Missy chimed in.

Nyx grabbed a granola bar hidden behind a jar of almond butter and slid into the dining booth beside her mother. “Did you sign the permission slip for me to participate in the class pizza par—”

Missy used two fingers to slide the neatly signed paper over to her without even pausing her coffee sip. “Mhm,” she hummed shrewdly.

“Thanks,” Nyx said, smiling diffidently.

“You forgot to include your garlic allergy on it, Nyx. You have to be more mindful. I won’t always be here to remind you. What if they would’ve ordered something with garlic and you ... ”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Nyx admitted regretfully as she crushed the slip into her backpack.

She knew how concerned her mother could be and hated provoking her worry, even inadvertently. The memories of throats closing, hives, EpiPens, and emergency room visits were experiences no one wanted to relive, especially Nyx.

Missy smiled and lovingly grazed her hand over her daughter’s cheek. “It’s okay. Just be more careful, please.”

“Aren’t you going to be late for school?” Dixon added, clearly oblivious to her life-threatening mistake.

“Not if I leave right now,” she announced as she swiftly kissed her mother and father on the cheek and headed for the door.

~

Nyx re-tucked her oversized red sweater into her flared jeans as she walked to class. The cacophony of teenagers’ endless chatter and the constant clanging of lockers stung her eardrums. She focused on her matching red tennis shoes, which clashed with the blue and grey sprinkled floors, glancing up only occasionally to avoid running into anyone and to greet those who acknowledged her. For the past two weeks, this had been her strategy to avoid Daniel.

“Hey, girly!” Cadence exclaimed as she sprung up behind Nyx, giving her shoulders a friendly squeeze.

“Hey, Cade,” Nyx said, grinning at the sight of a familiar face.

Cadence Marshall: Nyx’s best friend since the fourth grade. Although Nyx liked to pretend she was her sister—given she didn’t have any siblings—theirs wasn't the typical friendship mistaken for sisterhood due to their pronounced physical differences.

Where Nyx’s nose was narrow and pert, Cadence’s was full and curved. Nyx also had a rare shade of brazen hazel eyes, and Cadence’s were such a haunting black the midnight sky was envious. Nyx’s crown was graced with long curly hair, but Cadence kept her hair collarbone length, straightening it every weekend to avoid exposing her natural curls. Nyx could only recall a handful of times she had even seen Cadence’s real hair texture. Even when they went swimming, Cadence wouldn’t submerge herself underwater; if she did, she would quickly retreat from the pool and wrap a towel around her head to hide her hair. Nyx had made many attempts throughout their friendship to convince Cadence to showcase her coils, but she refused every time.

She was stubborn like that.

Their personalities were starkly different as well. Cadence was spirited, bubbly, and talkative to the point of being almost careless, while Nyx was reserved and meditative with her words. Nowhere was this contrast more striking than in their fashion choices. Nyx favored a minimalist, neutral aesthetic, but Cadence embraced ostentatious flair marked by bold colors, her signature hoop earrings, and long, flashy nails she was never seen without.

They were completely different, and everyone knew it. Some even wondered how they managed to connect so uniquely.

Nyx credited it to the purple bench.

In her fourth-grade year, the district zones in her neighborhood changed, and she had to transfer schools. The new elementary school she was attending had a purple bench on the playground for students who wanted someone to play with but were too shy to ask. For her first two weeks at her new school, Nyx sat on that bench every day during recess, and never once did anyone bother to rescue her from her solitude. But one day, Cadence broke that spell, skipping over to the purple bench and plopping herself right next to Nyx. She didn’t say a single thing to her—she just sat there in her company for the entirety of recess. And the next day, she did the same thing. And the day after that, it was the same bizarre pantomime.

Nyx failed to understand this peculiar routine of hers, so one day, she asked, “Why do you sit here without saying anything to me?”

Cadence vivaciously declared, “I was trying to get you to talk. Gotta get you out of that rock-hard shell somehow!”

They’ve been best friends ever since.

As Nyx returned to gawkily looking at the floor, Cadence eyed her closely as if she were trying to figure out exactly what was going on in her friend’s elusive mind. She sighed as she realized just what Nyx was doing and why she was doing it.

“Daniel is on the other side of the school,” she confirmed with more impatience than friendly concern. “I saw him giving some new guy a tour while I was in the office hashing out the whole cheating scenario from last week. So, you can keep your eyes linear.”

“Oh. I forgot he does that sometimes.” Nyx breathed a sigh of relief. “A new guy, huh?”

“Yup. I think his name started with a J.”

Nyx nodded. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Very attractive. Tall. Perfect brown skin. But he had a dark and mysterious vibe to him ... you know, kinda like you!” Cadence effused.

Nyx felt a pang in her chest, a feeling that had become a familiar friend, and Cadence immediately noticed the change in her countenance.

“Hey, I’m just kidding,” she said, playfully nudging Nyx to the side.

“Yeah,” Nyx mumbled. “Anyway, I meant about the cheating. Will you be suspended?”

“Oh, no. Thank God. I just have to retake the test in the office under the watchful eye of Principal Abney, of course.”

“Well, good. I couldn’t handle this place if you were suspended.”

“I know,” Cadence said with a wink.

Nyx rolled her eyes as they crossed the threshold into English Literature, the echo of her friend’s remarks about her being ‘dark and mysterious’ ravaging her mind because she knew it wasn’t just another one of Cadence’s jests.

Nyx lived with a formidable sense that she was different—somehow living a lie. Being the star of the track team, hanging out with friends, or spending extra time in the morning to beautify herself did nothing to silence the voices in her head proclaiming her peculiarity. Worse, those around her could also tell she didn’t belong, as if they were somehow privy to the voices too.

Mrs. Potts, her English Literature teacher, wrote a warm-up assignment on the board in indecipherable scribbles while the rest of the class was engaged in standard before-class wiles.

According to Caldwell, are blacks afraid of incarceration because of the crimes they commit or because of a racist system?

Nyx and Cadence took their regular seats in the middle of the classroom as Nyx pondered the prompt. She foraged in her backpack for her copy of Amina Caldwell’s Beneath the Indigo Sky, the novel their English Literature class had been studying for the last three weeks. She skimmed through the book for an idea of how to answer, her annotations, notes, and highlights, accessorizing each page. Because of a racist system, she thought, Vink’s imprisonment emphasizes this because he was jailed for a crime he didn’t commit. Suddenly, Cadence’s repeated nudges to her right arm interrupted her thought processes.

“What?” Nyx said, a touch of irritation in her voice.

Cadence pointed inconspicuously to the doorway, and Nyx’s eyes followed her finger angle, where he stood. “Looks like the new guy is in our class,” she whispered.

Nyx watched as he scanned the room for a seat. She saw his eyes widen at the empty desk in the back of the class, one row over and four seats up from her. Cadence was right about him: he had an undeniably dark aura that encapsulated him as he settled in the back of the room. Nyx was startled at the fact that she didn’t feel the slightest urge to steer clear of him. Instead, she felt drawn, like a wayward planet caught in his gravitational pull. As she contended with these thoughts, she fought the urge to turn around and study him as if his face would give her answers.

“Alright, everyone, settle down. Take your seats, please,” Mrs. Potts instructed.

Mrs. Potts rustled some papers on her desk and held one to her face, examining its contents. “Looks like we have a new student in the class today: Jaxson Vi-Vitale. Would you mind standing up and introducing yourself?” she asked hopefully.

Nyx, too busy fighting her thoughts, refused to turn around even though the rest of the class’s heads swiveled as their attention focused on him and his forthcoming introduction.

The sound of a chair scooting across the floor cut through the classroom as he rose to his feet. “Yeah, um, my name is Jaxson. Jaxson Vitale,” he said blandly.

Mrs. Potts nodded expectantly as if she was waiting for him to add more. “Where are you from, Jaxson?”

“Alaska.”

“Oh wow, you’ve come such a long way. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from Alaska! What brings you to Montana?”

“My parents died. Came here to live with my brother,” Jaxson announced flatly, every emotion completely dead and buried in his voice.

The oos and awes sent a wavelength of sounds throughout the room, everyone more surprised at his capacity to admit something so morbid than sympathetic.

Mrs. Potts’s eyes widened as she carefully considered how to respond, years and years of teacher communication training likely creating a tsunami in her brain. “Oh, I-I’m so s-sorry,” was all she could come up with. “Well, we’re so glad you’re here with us, and we hope The Home of the Huskies will become a home for you, too!” she added with an overly chipper tone.

Nyx couldn’t fight it anymore. It was as if her neck and head conspired against her commitment to remain face-forward, and she began to turn ever so slightly to look back at him. She just needed one look, just a glance. She watched as he offered Mrs. Potts a nod coupled with a slight grin before settling himself back into the comfort of his seat.

She thought to herself, turn around, focus on the lesson, answer the question on the board, raise your hand, do something. But she couldn’t. Her eyes were arrested on the tall, chestnut boy in the back with a presence imbued in an enigmatic haze that cried of mystery and sorrow.

She was so caught up in her thoughts and imaginations she didn’t realize he was staring at her too, his black eyes piercing a pit in her soul.

Chapter 3

Nyx

It was electric. Nyx could practically feel the current of Jaxson’s gaze coursing through her bones. But something in the background, attempting to pull her back to reality, caused the sudden jolt of energy to lose its power.

“Nyx Drew!” Mrs. Potts articulated loudly.

Nyx spun around in her chair, her teacher’s voice hauling her to the precipice of real life—this class, this room—away from Jaxson’s electric gaze.

“Can you answer the prompt on the board?” she asked as she pointed to her intelligible writing.

She tucked a curl behind her ear in embarrassment, trying to remember the thoughtful response she composed in her mind before Cadence hijacked her focus.

“Um, yes, I ... sorry,” Nyx stammered. “Caldwell uses the character’s experiences to demonstrate that blacks are afraid of incarceration because of a racist system. This is amplified in the fact that the story’s whole premise is centered around an innocent black man jailed for rape.”

Mrs. Potts smiled approvingly. “Excellent, Nyx. Now, do we think Caldwell’s view aligns with today’s reality? Are blacks today afraid of incarceration because of the crimes committed or because of a racist system?”

“Because of a racist system,” Nyx blurted. “Black men make up a disproportionate number of prison inmates despite representing a small portion of the population. It’s a modern-day form of slavery: a way to keep our men in chains ... without the chains.”

Mrs. Potts considered Nyx’s thesis and pointed to a hand presumably raised in the back. Nyx was killing herself not to look.

“Go ahead, Jaxson,” Mrs. Potts said.

“I’d argue it’s because of the crimes committed,” Jaxson countered. “While it’s true that black men are overrepresented in prisons compared to their population size, they also commit a disproportionate number of violent crimes. That seems to explain their overrepresentation more convincingly than the modern-day slavery theory.”

Nyx was stunned. Not only had Jaxson directly challenged her, but she found herself unable to oppose his point. She glanced at Cadence, hoping for a reaction, but her friend wasn’t paying any attention—her thumbs were tapping away at the phone tucked skillfully behind her copy of Caldwell’s novel.

Nyx couldn’t recall the rest of the class lesson—something about context, characters, and setting being used to do … something. She couldn’t remember. Her mind was strayed in a faraway land somewhere, and she couldn’t seem to reel it back. She barely noticed the bell ringing, only becoming aware of the end of class when a flood of students and rustling backpacks and papers, swirled past her.

She looked up to see Cadence waiting in the doorway, as was their unspoken tradition—to leave class together. Despite her distracted state, Nyx grabbed her backpack, linked arms with Cadence, and followed her friend into the hallway.

Cadence chattered mindlessly all the way to Nyx’s locker, completely unaware of how troubled her friend had been during class. Nyx was suddenly grateful for Cadence’s remarkably short attention span. If she had noticed her intermittent gazes or episodes of staring into space, she would’ve undoubtedly been able to deduce what was driving that behavior.

That’s what happens when someone is best friends with another person. Somehow, they just know their why.

Nyx was inputting her locker combination when he passed by, his red and teal hoodie draped over him like a blanket. He stopped in front of a locker about twenty feet away. Cadence, leaning on the locker in front of Nyx’s, continued chattering about something irrelevant, but her gaze was fixed on him.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” she said, her legs already moving toward Jaxson before her mind caught up.

Her thoughts began to bombard her so heavily that she felt lightheaded, but she kept moving and didn’t stop until his sculpted profile was right in front of her.

“Interesting answer in class today,” she said to him as coolly as she could, trying not to reveal her fascination with him.

He peered at her from behind his locker, then looked around to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity she could’ve been speaking to. When he confirmed there wasn’t, his eyes returned to hers.“Thanks. Not a very popular take, I’m gathering,” he said.

“Not at a predominantly black school, no, not at all, but I can appreciate it. I’m Nyx,” she said as she smoothly offered him her hand.

He grabbed her hand hesitantly and shook it gently. “Jaxson.”

“How are you enjoying Cinder Cove so far? Home of the Huskies!” she added awkwardly, immediately regretting the incorporation of school spirit.

“Well, it’s hard to make a definitive judgment after one class,” he remarked as he shuffled with some items in his locker. Noticing the subtle shift in her countenance, he added, “But it’s looking up.”

Jaxson’s response was coupled with a soft smile, and she could see the tension and reluctance slowly departing from his demeanor, which made her relax a little.

“So, where is your next cla—”

“Hey, I’m Cadence! Her best friend,” Cadence interjected tumultuously, nearly crashing into Nyx from behind. “You coming to the Cove tonight?”

“The what?” Jaxson said, eyes darting from Cadence to Nyx.

“The Cove. It’s a sheltered cave near Cinder’s Lake, but locals call it ‘the Cove.’ Students go there and hang every Thursday night,” Nyx explained.

“Will you be there?” Jaxson asked, his question directed undoubtedly at Nyx.

“She definitely will!” Cadence proclaimed enthusiastically on her behalf.

Jaxson smiled and closed his locker. “Well then, I’ll see you,” he said as he turned in the other direction and walked to his next class.

“I’ll see you,” she repeated, waving at his backside. Nyx immediately turned back to her busybody friend and shrilled quietly, “Cadence Marshall!”

“Oh, stop. You were practically begging for my intervention. Running away from me, your best friend and the most interesting component in your life, to strike up a random conversation with the new guy? Very subtle.”

Nyx tried to suppress a smile but couldn’t help the girlish chuckle that escaped her. She wasn’t sure what was drawing her to Jaxson—whether it was her darkness matching his, his intriguing intellect, his enigmatic aura, or just that he was easy on the eyes—but she was determined to find out.

Jaxson

November 29

Holly is adjusting well. Honestly, she’s doing better than me. I’m still a little bitter about the move. I just miss my parents, my Collect, and being with people who are like me. Because being here is a constant reminder that I’m not normal and will never be. But somehow, every day that goes by makes it all a little easier.

Today, I attended Cinder Cove High School for the first time. I didn’t expect much of a difference between the school day here and a typical school day at the Collect, but I was wrong. The coursework is so ... how should I put this ... elementary? In my English lit class, they are currently only reading one book. I can recall reading seven different books at the same time in my Literature class at Two.

Needless to say, I can see myself breezing through the required curricula at Cinder Cove High.

Something else happened today that I was not expecting. I met someone. No, not like that, but there’s something about this person. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. I can’t explain what I’m feeling about her. I just know I have to go to the Cove tonight. I don’t particularly want to involve myself in pointless teenage pursuits, but I feel like I need to know her.

Two has ingrained in every Collect member that we are to always trust our instincts—to never question them because they aren’t just the fleeting, unreliable ‘gut feelings’ that humans get. They are biological urges written into our DNA to protect us, warn us, teach us, and show us.

So, I have to go tonight for her. Something tells me she has all the answers I need.

Chapter 4

Nyx

There were few things in life that Nyx loved—like really loved—and one of them was Montana night skies. From the passenger seat of Cadence’s car, she gazed at the midnight tapestry of stardust. The music blaring in the background, combined with the celestial display before her, was transcendent. These were the moments she loved most: when time seemed to lose its grip and the boundaries of the physical world completely dissolved. A parked car, a best friend at the wheel, great music playing, and brilliant views all around was the perfect recipe for a hypnotic pause from life. She could have stayed there forever.

“You ready?” Cadence asked as she turned the volume dial to the right, prompting the lively melodies to cease.

They arrived earlier than usual. It was Nyx’s idea for them to park and listen to music until it was fit for them to make an entrance—one of their favorite things to do together. But the host of students rushing past Cadence’s vehicle to the sounds of music and amusement must have made her friend anxious to join them.

Nyx never quite understood the youthful allure of hedonism. It always seemed to lead to adverse consequences, so she tried to avoid these scenes whenever possible. Cadence, however, was the complete opposite of her: she wanted to be at everything and could be very persuasive in getting Nyx to be at everything with her.

Since becoming Cadence’s best friend, Nyx had been thrust into the realm of popularity she once navigated from the sidelines. This elevated status had been her reality since that memorable day on the purple bench. She was now one of ‘those’ kids.

And she loathed it.

Attending the weekly teenage gatherings at the Cove had become a sort of obligation—one she faced not only as a prominent student-athlete but also as the former girlfriend of Daniel Whitlock, the two-time homecoming king, prom king, and star of the hockey team. Her non-obligation obligation was to maintain appearances, even if it felt tiresome.

But tonight ... tonight was different. Tonight, she wasn’t there to cater to an image or to satisfy Cadence. She was there for him.

“Yeah,” she answered as she opened the car door into the chasm of night, the brisk air chilling her to the bone.

Cadence started the trek to the Cove, but Nyx was still standing by the passenger door, staring aimlessly at the dirt and snow-mixed path that led to the north side of Cinder’s Lake, where the Cove was located. She was arrested in thought about many things, namely how disappointed she would be if he didn’t come.

Cadence took about ten steps before she noticed the absence of sloshy footfalls following behind her. She turned to see Nyx standing by the car with a distant look. Cadence approached slowly, and even when she was close enough for Nyx’s face to parallel hers, her friend’s eyes remained unfocused. Cadence touched her shoulder gently, unsure how to tether her to the here and now. Nyx flinched slightly, jolted from her reverie by Cadence’s gentle touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” Cadence asked, her voice tinged with palpable concern.

Nyx considered her question and wondered how long she had been standing right in front of her. She hadn’t noticed at all.

“Ye-yeah. I’m good,” Nyx reassured, although she was sure Cadence would not be convinced. But she also knew Cadence would accept her response because she never forced Nyx to tell her something she was not yet ready to tell or to talk when she didn’t want to.

Cadence nodded unconvincingly and presented her arm for Nyx to take, a small gesture that said, let’s go, but I’m here for you when you’re ready. It reminded her of all those days they sat together wordless on that purple bench. Nyx grabbed it heartily and snuggled close to her best friend, thankful for her and the way she was and has always been, as they walked to the Cove.

Nyx was fine; she was. But these niggling feelings about Jaxson, a boy she has known for approximately twelve hours, would not fade. Not feelings of desire or want, but feelings of needing to know him and needing him to know her.

~

Cinder’s Lake was small, with designated areas for recreation, though some parts were not ideal for visitors. The area they were heading to had a limited shoreline, obscured by dense trees. That, compounded by the low visibility at night, made it a dangerous location. The Cove was situated at the lake’s edge, concealed by a tangled cluster of gnarled vines and towering pine trees. It was an open cavern, naturally sculpted and shrouded in local legends.