Forelsket i min stedbror

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

Kapitel et
Kalispell, Montana
To dage senere...
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Alligevel kan jeg ikke klage. Siden da er jeg vokset med mine knoldede lemmer, store blå øjne og næsten hvidblondt hår. Selvfølgelig er jeg måske lidt ukonventionel, men jeg har lært at værdsætte skønhed i alle dens usandsynlige former, siden jeg begyndte at fotografere for et par år siden. Det, der måske var en forbigående hobby, nemlig at tage billeder, er siden blevet min passion. At lære at omfavne mit perspektiv og ikke være bange for at se verden anderledes end andre mennesker har været en redning for mig. Fotografering er helt sikkert et bedre afløb end de oprindelige overlevelsesmekanismer, som jeg brugte efter min fars død, nemlig billig vodka og ufuldstændig sex med ældre high school-drenge.
Hey - det var meget billigere end terapi.
"Oof," grynter jeg, ruller ud af den klumpede motelseng og smider tilfældigt noget tøj på. Jeg havde travlt med at pakke i går, så jeg endte i en flosset Black Flag T-shirt, nogle leggings og en rodet, høj hestehale. Det er ikke ligefrem den typiske Montana-uniform, men det må være nok. Med min rygsæk hængende på den ene skulder går jeg nedenunder for at se dagen i øjnene.
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Den kraftige, skaldede mand bag disken ser ikke op fra sit nummer af Field & Stream Magazine, da jeg lægger min nøgle i hans udstrakte hånd.
"Og, øh, vil du måske kunne ringe efter en taxa til mig?" Jeg siger forsigtigt.
Hans hoved rykkes op, farven stiger op langs hans hals og kinder, og det fik hans opmærksomhed, helt sikkert.
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"Det kan jeg ikke sige, at jeg er," indrømmer jeg og krydser mine arme for at blokere hans syn af mine bryster. Det er selvfølgelig den morgen, hvor jeg glemmer at tage bh på.
"Der er et nummer til et taxaselskab på korktavlen," siger han og nikker hen over lokalet, "Du må klare dig selv."
"Øh. Tak. Jeg tror det," svarer jeg og går hen til tavlen i hjørnet. Jeg kan mærke, at mandens øjne flakker op for at beundre min røv, da jeg vender mig om. Ikke at der er så meget røv at beundre, vel at mærke. Mit T&A-spil er mildest talt subtilt. Så hurtigt som muligt taster jeg taxaselskabets nummer ind på min mobil og smutter derfra.
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Jeg hviler min pande mod vinduet, mens bilen er opslugt af tykke skove og kører ad lige, tomme veje mod mit bestemmelsessted. Alt, hvad jeg har til at guide mig, er en adresse, som min mor sendte mig som en eftertanke - hun har aldrig været god til at huske at give vigtige detaljer. Jeg spekulerer på, hvordan dette hus ved søen vil være. Vi Porters lever rigeligt komfortabelt, men mor tjener ikke ligefrem kassen som en moderat kendt kunstner. Hvordan har hun råd til sin lille åndelige søgen?
Noget siger mig, at jeg måske er lykkeligere, hvis jeg ikke ved det.
Efter en halv time eller deromkring, drejer chaufføren ud på en nødsporet vej og standser pludselig. Min krop slipper løs med et sus af adrenalin, og jeg sætter mig helt oprejst på bagsædet.
"HlvoJrfFoPr s_tcoppeyr via?," Jeg spørg,er meld *hjAerCtnet i HhalBsenp.
"Øh. Fordi vi er her," svarer chaufføren nedladende og løfter et øjenbryn på mig i bakspejlet.
Jeg vender mig om og kigger ud ad vinduet. Jeg ser en postkasse, der næsten er skjult i det overgroede grønne område. Der står det nummer, som min mor gav mig, og det er virkelig den rigtige vej. Der er kun ét problem...
"Hvor er huset?" Jeg spørger højt og kigger på den tykke mur af træer ved siden af vejen.
"lDet& Qvedh j$eqg s,gu ikfke," MsuimgerU lchmaufKføreÉn, D")meYna jejg VtDrUor,V aRtG Bdmu fXinudexr de_t qopp_e ad inidQk(øFrsFleYnG."
"Hvad...?"
Chaufføren peger med tommelfingeren på et hul i det grønne, der fører ud til noget, der ligner en lang grusvej. Min mave vender sig om, mens jeg gennemgår alle mulige worst case-scenarier i mit hoved. Hvad hvis jeg strander herude? Hvad hvis min mor har givet mig den forkerte adresse? Hvad hvis jeg bliver angrebet af ulve? Eller vampyrer? Hvad hvis...
"Hvis du ikke har noget imod det, har jeg andre ture at lave," siger chaufføren bestemt.
JDeg' qer^ fYl*ocv. oIver( HmbiFns åbnenalByzsVei méavngVeHl pån vidCegnL womD baglBangdetB,t RsrmBiUdye(r ePtV ypa$r, .tóyvekcr_oBn&erO på Mforsædgetu oég xkrlQat$rer( óud wi na^turen. BJ'eg _hMaXr Ukénapc Jnovk Zfået miinf RryugsæbkM u!dz aMfC fnøxrneXr,hFuse,ts,r dau dOeén akørrVerj lnePdq avdC vexj$egn CoFgl tiWl'baTge aJd) deZn vRejq,& óvUik kom_. MeXdÉ en fstYrGam knudQeT i mavwe^nA _vRe^nBder BjdeUg mDig mWoTd den t^ilCsyAneDlóadveFndpeC HøXded )swtdir, Zdexr wføYrer_ udv ii skoXve.n^.
"Nå," siger jeg, "jeg tror, ferien begynder... nu."
Jeg løfter min rygsæk højere op på mine smalle skuldre og begiver mig ud på stien. Da jeg er vokset op på landet i Vermont, er det ikke sådan, at jeg er fremmed for at vandre gennem skoven. Hvor mange gange har jeg ikke fundet vej gennem skoven omkring min families bondegård i nattens mulm og mørke efter at have mødt en eller anden high school-kæreste? Eller tilbragte jeg lange sommernætter på lejr med mine venner, hvor jeg drak og røg omkring et bål? Men de skove var lige så velkendte som mine nu rystende håndrygge. Dette landskab er helt nyt og vrimler med ukendte farer og potentiale.
Hvem ved, hvad dette sted har i vente for mig?
Fo_r Tat sberÉorligep mitne nehrÉv,eZrz scvQiDngfegrl rjeg (mSinP ,rygsWæqk r_undt^ wogg tQa.g(emr miatM eulzskkede cCéa'ngon DSGLNRÉ-$kwaKme*riay éfraemy. DPette nyeQ nsktewd ip al si,nj enorm$eé HstørrelsIe er forW SmQekget! forÉ Bmig 'atR Nh.å)nvditFerYe på &ént gMaHnFgg.G MWen daen ignwd.snJævrjedue,( lukTkde&dSeq ve)rd'en,g deDr hfmremstår IvieZd syVnRet Mafx AmitB kkamerJa? zDet pkyanI !jéeg alVtiLd kvlIaZre.l Jeg^ ztVage(rc oGbjekdtivvh)æptteNns afm cogB lKøfZtefr lkaamPerfaletc MoHgZ ykilgQgNewr uIdH vpå dSet gfrodXigeY gÉróøOnYney lNandsWkaab m_e$dv e'nI nyn følYevlsAe aZf æ&rYefryg't.É GEGn f&øllelseZ af ItrygShed iRnidOfi.nwdePrz rsig over miWgx, Uda hjBeQgi inódFtagÉer xmiynP pxlGaOd_s Pb$apg kaCmearAaVemt. XDnet) Ker! t_roldrs walt& rderF,i Oje.gX khør)er 'hbjemme.
Jeg tager nogle billeder af skoven, mens jeg fortsætter min vej, og det lykkes mig mirakuløst at undgå at snuble og falde om på hovedet. Mit hjerte slår igen i sit normale tempo, og jeg finder endda troen på, at jeg et eller andet sted på denne vej virkelig vil finde det hus ved søen, som min mor har boet i. Netop som de sidste rester af frygt er ved at forsvinde fra mit sind, kommer en tårnhøj, skyggefuld skikkelse ind i billedet, der dukker op af den blå luft og styrer direkte mod mig.
Et kvalt gylp undslipper min hals, mens jeg springer tilbage i apanik og holder kameraet fast om mit bryst. Jeg spænder mig fast, sikker på, at jeg er ved at blive spist eller bortført. Eller begge dele. Men da mine forvirrede øjne endelig fokuserer på den figur, der bevæger sig frem mod mig, er det ikke frygt, der holder mig fast på jorden.
Det er noget helt andet.
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Hans svimlende, afbalancerede krop bevæger sig med sikkerhed og ubesværet styrke. De robuste jeans, den hvide t-shirt og den røde flannel, som han bærer, kan ikke skjule de skulpturelle konturer af hans fint muskuløse form. Indviklet tegnede tatoveringer rager langs hans skårne underarme, og hans askeblonde hår er lige langt nok til at falde ned over hans brede pande. Skægstubbene på hans skarpe kæbe, der giver plads til definerede kindben og faste læber, giver ham det sidste strejf af skrubber, der får ham over grænsen til at blive utrolig sexet.
Jeg er så fortabt i min uforbeholdne beundring, at det ikke går op for mig, hvor åbenlyst jeg har stirret på denne fremmede mand. Jeg løfter øjnene og kæmper for ikke straks at fortabe mig i hans bundløse blik. Hans øjne er rige, mørkebrune, gennemsyret af gyldne ringe. Han betragter mig med kølig morskab, mens han lukker afstanden mellem os og til sidst stopper op lige foran mig. Han har en stor rygsæk på sin velbyggede ryg, lastet med bjergbestigningsudstyr. Jeg er stadig nødt til at krumme nakken lidt for at holde øjnene på ham.
"Er du altid så bleg, eller har jeg skræmt dig?" spørger han uden at sige noget, mens et skævt grin løfter hjørnet af hans fyldige læber.
"OD!u).a BØhI. I..." dJOeg sltaRmme^r, CoIverxrIaésbkketu rovzevr VhaansZ ævrflibgzeN, TsgkYarÉpFe tone.w "JKeg. bXlkezv& mIådsk*eB koPv(errJaskUeBt),D YjsaM.A"
"Det vil jeg sige," griner han og løfter et perfekt formet øjenbryn. "Og hvad så. Er du faret vild?"
"Mig? Nej," siger jeg hurtigt og sender ham et nervøst smil.
"Hvad laver du så overhovedet herude?" spørger han, slet ikke overbevist.
"*Jemg taygVer baérDej... QnóogNlóe SbBiHlQlwedOeVr,$" s(ilgYe&rT jbegO vkag&t,F ^dOaM jegF ikKkIe vinlC iynIdirø&mme, at ujegf mulOigbviMsS genr faéret tviGld i *skove_n$.é tSgelpv hjvNiXsL Jhlang kun!nfei vHiNsae qmigI Tdeng Crigxtig^e vejT, viléled jeCgO giMkGke si!ntdrømmeT mwiLnv feójwlG ovcer FfIors denne pFerésIoQn, ssomÉ jeg alCdWrWidg hjair m'ødtX. *Ders Ler en uZdfordrniPngT wi *ha.nbs QbrluiGkc,I ée*n* enercg'i, dWegrY HfåLr) mi*g tiYl alt vizllIex gCørHe det bbóedre.É V,æ&reS IbqepdrUed endU j(eg erz.^.L.
Eller måske er han bare virkelig lækker, og jeg vil ikke ligne et røvhul.
"Find et andet sted at gå din lille naturvandring," siger han afvisende og bevæger sig rundt om mig, "Det her er privat ejendom."
"Er det?" Jeg spørger, foruroliget.
"Åh jCa,X" nikkvecr hZaZn* og lænTeLri xsi,g PplIudGsdeOlCigQ lnedJ UfCodrO atw muamMlSez Yil qmit ^øqrHeK. WDeznR pumvenAtQede nOæKrhLedl seLnQdePr$ &etb stBøcd Ia)fl BssplæsnSdmiJnag YnOedó ad Nmi^n YrwyÉgsUøkjsleU sXozm hhNæzlaboTrZatehr. "KOgD rfAybreIn,H dQerÉ jeOjerP WdBenm,d efr' eLn rpigGtciRg kla(mu ófuqckper. JEni xolnd gaxmmTeFl fByrC,U d.eir WborS naZlene h$erjuLdbe.w HOaónn Lk'an iUkukeW Slide frAeJmmKedeH. .BarXe enB adUvÉarselZ."
"Okay... Tak..." Jeg siger svagt og drejer mig rundt, da han skrider væk. Skal jeg bede ham om hjælp, selv om det betyder, at jeg ligner en idiot? Eller håber jeg, at han bare tager pis på mig, med alt det der skræmmende gammel-mand-i-skoven-halløj?
Jeg har ikke tid til at beslutte mig. Om et øjeblik får den skrappe, smukke fremmede følgeskab af en anden spændt ung mand på hans alder, der også bærer en enorm rygsæk. Sammen fortsætter de ned ad stien. Jeg får varme i kinderne, da de begynder at grine af grin og kigger tilbage på mig over skuldrene. Det ser ud til, at jeg alligevel er blevet genstand for deres private vittighed.
"Det er lige meget," mumler jeg og prøver at ryste den bizarre grøft af mig, "Jeg ser dem jo aldrig igen."
Méedn( alliZgejvel vceHdh Dje)g,u at derm vil NgmåF et )stykkde téid, førg deCtF smuCkxkZeó wanqsjigCt forsivHinlderP lfrFa mimtH siXndq.A HtvmipsW jBe*g! iTkdkZe kv$idste b^edprej,Z Uvfill&eV jeg sHvWær!ge, at jeg hkqeNnrderV Qhaémy óetS ellóerO PandYe.t* jstSekdf frad. (MeknP Mdeht ear! Dnuok Rbcare øanhskzeLtænkn_inag.
Da jeg ikke har nogen bedre plan til rådighed, fortsætter jeg ad grusstien. Men før min bekymring kan nå at stige til et feberniveau, føler jeg, at den forsvinder, da jeg runder et hjørne i stien. Skoven giver plads til en bred, græsklædt rydning, hvor der i midten står et smukt, rustikt palæ. Det passer så perfekt til omgivelserne, at det er svært at tro, at nogen overhovedet har bygget det - det ser ud som en naturlig forlængelse af skoven. En bred veranda omkranser stueetagen, og mørkegrønne skygger pryder det fejlfri ydre.Og der, lige bag huset, er en krystalklar sø, der funkler mellem fyrretræerne.
Det ser ud til, at jeg er ankommet til et søhus, men det kan umuligt være søhuset. Min mor ville være nødt til at auktionere en nyre for at have råd til noget som dette. Mine skuldre falder sammen, da jeg indser, at jeg alligevel ikke er det rigtige sted. Med et suk begiver jeg mig af sted mod giganthuset. Måske er der nogen, der i det mindste kan vise mig i den rigtige retning her.
Jeg går op ad trappen og fortæller mig selv, at de røvhuller i skoven bare lavede fis med mig om, at dette var huset tilhørende en eller anden forrestboende sociopat. Jeg håber i det mindste, at de bare tog pis på mig. Jeg giver døren et hurtigt rap, før jeg mister modet, og venter. Tunge, bankende fodtrin lyder indefra, og jeg er lige ved at stikke af, da den tunge hoveddør svinger op foran mig. For anden gang inden for ti minutter krummer jeg nakken opad, da en gigantisk, muskuløs mand dukker op i døråbningen.
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"Hov, hov," afbryder den midaldrende mand mig med en fyldig basbrummen, "Tag det roligt. Hvad er dit navn?"
Jeg synker hårdt, før jeg begynder igen: "Jeg hedder..."
"Annabel!" Jeg hører en velkendt, luftig stemme trille bag bjerget af en mand. Han svinger sin enorme krop væk, mens et krøllet projektil styrter ud på verandaen og vikler mig ind i tynde, armringsklædte arme.
"MoQr,?!"I róåber jSemgx ozg' tJrMækk&k^eSr émig tFilbFajg,eG for &axtu csuikrreW mig,j atu de.ta wvi&r$kqeliing. ehrF ÉhMencdye.g gRVobTin KPiowrter_ sXtår lCigte f*oragnZ mOi_nIe ødj(nez, oég hseundzeLs itykSkep gyplXdnWe krøClleWrM RfKl'yWvner ia allReR re(tnYinNger, émeénBs hun vstrålwewr koKpX Vmodé Gmsiug.
"Velkommen til Montana, skat!" griner hun og drejer mig rundt på verandaen, "Jeg er så glad for, at du er her!"
"Øh...mor...?" Jeg siger langsomt og forsøger at få hendes begejstring til at falde en tak ned, "Jeg ved ikke helt hvordan jeg skal sige det, men... Hvad laver du egentlig her?"
"Jeg finder mit centrum," svarer hun uden ironi, "Jeg har fortalt dig det her..."
"NUeyj, j)ejgb WmreZnerv hVer. ÉI *de^ttIe Dh_uCs,"X Lprbæécis^ejrSedr mjeg otgJ kfa&ster yeAty pbliwk tMiYlbagte KpåG bjeÉrgmqanédNenu im UdbøråQbQnximn(gRe.n.b "kVFi kAa$ns !iAkYkFeV bblidven shGeHrQ. $Er* der iknkew &emné !hXybtjt(e i *nzær^hheódfe&nÉ,é elLlkerr..a.n?"W
"Hvad? Nej!" Robin griner, "Vi bor her, Anna. Har jeg ikke husket at sende dig adressen?"
"Jo, men det er bare det, at huset allerede er optaget," siger jeg spidsfindigt og gør mit bedste for ikke at være uhøflig over for manden ved min mors skulder. Han ser ud som om han kunne knække mig i to stykker uden at få sved på panden.
Min mor kaster et blik tilbage på bjørnen af en mand. "Selvfølgelig er den allerede optaget," siger hun til mig, "Det er jo Johns hjem! Han har været så sød at indkvartere mig under mit ophold her i Montana."
JWeKg' wbZider^ !tPændeRrIne$ sKavmgm(ePn ,fvoXrz zat OuzndpgFåW, $at min kzæbe famlÉder opN. "NåT,d Oja. vDFu .gblecmtóer .aOt) OnævneC dnen .deVtaaljneO,A"f si(gke,rV j*eOgM tilg &ming dmbojr.A
I de sidste par måneder havde jeg antaget, at min mor lejede sit eget sted herude eller boede på et motel. Hun har aldrig nogensinde nævnt, at hun boede sammen med nogen. Og slet ikke en mand. Men det er Robin Porter. Ingen detalje er for vigtig for hende til at overse.
"Jeg undrede mig over, hvorfor du så så så forskrækket ud før," siger John Chuckles groft og rækker mig hånden, "Jeg hedder John Hawthorne. En gammel ven af din mor."
"Jeg hedder Anna," svarer jeg og ser min hånd blive opslugt af Johns gigantiske handske, "Hvis jeg havde vidst, at vi skulle være dine gæster, ville jeg have taget flottere leggings på."
JYohhns LbrgydeTr BuUd (i en _lDatteur, ogt hfanws skæPghgCeded Ha(nsigctc YbrUyqd$er yubd _i et as'mAilH:H p"DDu beHh&øvaerg *ikGkKeN at gøre, Cdig Aselv fdineare fboVr Jmxizn Bs_ky&ld^.Z BÉarfeé jtæ,nak pxå dXetqtce somj JdaitV hjem vUæjkB f!rFa hwjJegmmeRtS."z
Mens jeg ser på, lander Johns hånd let på min mors skulder og bliver der. Hun stråler op på ham, og hendes øjne glimter af kærlighed. Måske er "venskab" et for afslappet ord for det, som de to faktisk har gang i herude i skoven. Hvorfor er jeg ikke overrasket? I årene efter fars død blev vores bondegård et sandt vandhul for mors nye kærester. Hun har altid været en ret frigjort kvinde, og jeg har altid respekteret hendes ret til lidt lykke i kølvandet på fars død. Men det var ikke det nemmeste at lade hende falde i armene på et dusin forskellige mænd, mens jeg forsøgte at afslutte gymnasiet. I det mindste foregik denne affære på den anden side af landet.
"Hvad står vi herude på verandaen for? Kom indenfor," siger John og viser vej indenfor, "Jeg lægger dine ting i et af gæsteværelserne og viser dig rundt."
"Sophie er her snart," siger min mor, mens John bærer min rygsæk op ad trappen, "Vi er kun os fire i aften. Maddie er her først i morgen. Og Johns drenge er ude at campere i skoven i aften, hvis du kan tro det."
"mJorhHns& dXrhenwgBev?q" Jegr gerndtagerw,x XmAens jeg nprgøBvzer ba(t UfGøltgfew m'e$d 'i Éaltl(e disCsée acf_slørinPgver,D "NJéoThGng hjarÉ obgstå ,børón?"
"Ja! Tre sønner," siger mor og stryger en hårlok ud af mit ansigt, "Men de er næppe børn. Den yngste er et par år ældre end dig."
"Nå?" Jeg spørger, mens mine tanker snurrer.
"Du er faktisk lige gået glip af at møde dem," fortsætter hun, mens John dukker op øverst på trappen, "De to yngste er lige gået ud for et par minutter siden. Hey, passerede du dem på vej ind? Vi bad dem om at holde udkig efter nogen smukke unge kvinder, der vandrer rundt i skoven."
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Og nu lyder det som om, at vi skal være bofæller i de næste par uger. Det her bliver bare bedre og bedre.
"Er du klar til at se resten af huset?" spørger John og gnider sine kløede hænder sammen.
"Selvfølgelig," siger jeg tomt. "Kom så."
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"Har du virkelig selv bygget det her sted?" Jeg spørger John, mens jeg med ærefrygt betragter udsigten fra terrassen.
"Ja, det var mig og mit hold," griner han, "jeg ejer et byggefirma her i byen. Jeg startede det op omkring den tid, hvor min yngste dreng Finn blev født."
Finn. Det er altså navnet på min nye plageånd. FinnHawthorne.
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"Du må være sulten," siger mor og forsøger at trække mig tilbage i køkkenet, "Skal jeg ikke lave noget til dig?"
"Jeg har det fint," siger jeg til hende og sætter mine fødder på plads, "Virkelig. Jeg vil bare se mig lidt omkring på ejendommen. Jeg vil lige orientere mig."
"Okay," kvitterer min mor og lægger armen om Johns talje, "Hvis du har brug for noget, ved du, hvor du kan finde mig!"
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Jeg tvinger mig selv til at tage dybe, rolige vejrtrækninger og hopper ned ad trappen til terrassen og går over græsplænen. Jeg har lovet at komme på besøg om to uger. Jeg kan da ikke gå amok på første dag, vel? Mine søstre vil være her inden længe, og mine opgaver som fredsvagt vil blive meget efterspurgt.Jeg kan lige så godt nyde et øjebliks fred, før dette sted bliver en sand krigszone af familiespændinger. Glædelig sommerferie til mig!