Stefan's Diaries 1 - Origins by Smith L J

Stefan's Diaries 1 - Origins by Smith L J

Author:Smith, L J [J, Smith, L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2010-06-09T04:00:00+00:00


“And you have mine,” I murmured back, meaning every word.

17

September 8, 1864

S he is not who she seems. Should I be surprised? Terrified? Hurt? It’s as if everything I know, everything I’ve been taught, everything I’ve believed in my past seventeen years is wrong.

I can still feel where she kissed me, where her fingers grasped my hands. I still yearn for her, and yet the voice of reason is screaming in my ears: You cannot love a vampire!

If I had one of her daisies, I could pluck the leaves and let the flower choose for me. I love her … I love her not … I … I love her.

I do. No matter the consequences.

Is this what following your heart is? I wish there was a map or a compass to help me find my way. But she has my heart, and that above all else is my North Star … and that will have to be enough.

After I slipped away from the carriage house back to my own chambers, I somehow managed to sleep for a few hours. When I awoke, I wondered if everything was all a dream. But then I shifted my head on the pillow and saw a neat puddle of dried, crimson blood and touched my fingers to my throat. I felt a wound there, and though it didn’t hurt, it brought back the very real incidents of the previous evening.

I felt exhausted and confused and exalted all at once. My limbs were enervated, my brain abuzz. It was as if I had a fever, but inside I felt a sort of calm I’d never felt before.

I dressed for the day, taking extra care to wash the wound with a damp cloth and bandage it, then buttoned my linen shirt as high as it would go. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I tried to see if there was anything different, if there was some glint in my eye that acknowledged my newfound worldliness. But my face looked just as it had yesterday.

I crept down the back stairs toward the study.

Father’s schedule was like clockwork, and he always spent the mornings surveying and visiting the fields with Robert.

Once I closed myself in the cool, dark room, I ran my fingers along the leather-bound spines on each shelf, feeling comforted by their smoothness.



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