30th October 1951

I was helping my mother prepare the house for celebrating Samhain, as I did every year—decorations, herbs, etc. A knock on the door interrupted us, and I looked at the door as my mother opened it. It was Blaire, our high priestess, checking on things, I presumed, and carried on with hanging up the apples and acorns around the house and setting small wax candles in our cauldrons, the circle room and around the altar.

Then, HE startled me. He asked about every little thing I did like he'd never seen seasonal décor before. Although, he and his family came to join us from America. So maybe he had not.

I had met them all once last week, he spoke very little to me, and I thought nothing of it. Oh, how naïve I am. He, meaning Jerrold, has tried talking to me every day. Why? How should I know!

I am scared to be alone with him, and I was glad others were here this time, even if it was our mothers.

Mother says I should try. She just wanted me out of her hair. I knew that much. We shall see how this continues, but he's a pain.

- Selena.

I re-read the page a second time.

“Jerrold?”

I racked my brain; nothing popped up, and looking at the family tree at the back didn’t help either. The name linked to my grandmother was utterly erased with black ink. I remember my dad never talked about my grandfather; even though my grandma married, there were no pictures of the groom, and she kept her maiden name.

It was Friday evening. I perched on the sofa reading diary entries in my grandma's book.

I did end up going back to school on Wednesday. Seri was happy to see me. Still waiting for something from Quinn or Lathen, even our regular table in the cafeteria was now taken over by others.

I didn’t even get a chance to talk to Devan face-to-face; every time I found him to speak to him, he disappeared again. I figured out that texting was simpler.

Usually, they come to see Seri and I working at the coffee shop every Saturday without fail. Perhaps this was another tradition broken.

I sighed, shutting the book, I picked myself up to put it back on the shelf.

My brain started to hurt, so much so I could hear voices…

No, I was hearing voices.

The cauldron lid was removed, and I swiftly checked if the pouch was still there. It was. Swallowing, I felt the urge to open it.

Pulling at the gold ties, the velvet opened, revealing the necklace again; I pulled it out from the black pouch. Holding it, I was overcome with emotions; Silent tears streamed down my face. I looked down at it perplexed, put it back how I found it and placed the lid on top.

I wiped away my tears. I didn’t feel sad, so where did these tears come from?

I’ll speak to Mum about it tomorrow. Maybe she has an idea.

----------------------------------------

I lay there in my bed, facing the window, which was open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze that was pouring in.

I don't remember opening that. Come to think of it. It wasn't a full moon tonight, either. I sat up cautiously and looked around the room. The room wasn't chilly, but it wasn't exactly warm either. I had read about these before, during my studies.

Astral projection: I wasn't asleep nor awake, and I wouldn't wake until something disturbed me, such as shouting or a physical touch in the real world. Often, it could be achieved through meditation or a spell. But how was I doing it?

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Hello?” I called out, not seeing anybody around me or under the bed.

I heard a crack to my left—the culprit, leaning against the window, black and white checkered pyjama pants and shirtless. I breathed a sigh of relief, Leo.

I admit I may have admired him for a little too long. He had a good build, more than reasonable. He was lean, just enough so you could see a slight definition in his abdomen. His chest was broad, and he had arms that I appreciated around me. From the moonlight, the olive tone of his skin stood out. I started 'slightly' before speaking.

“You know this isn't funny and highly dangerous,” I crossed my arms against my chest.

Watching Leo, he rubbed the back of his head, ruffling the 'bed head' he had going on.

“You’re saying that like I know what's happening?” he said back in a gruff voice, thick with sleep.

“Where are we?” he asked, clearing his throat.

I stood up, and I answered him, “The Astral plane… Although, why we are in my room I have no idea… Don't get yourself comfortable this time,” I remarked, “How'd you manage to get in here anyways?”

He shrugged and sat at my desk, facing me, “Poof, I was here. I don't remember a thing.”

I looked down at my feet. It didn’t add up. He didn’t seem like the type to lie either. Something else was afoot.

I looked back up to find him staring more like wondering eyes. I became very aware of what I was wearing: my underwear and a bed shirt, barely reaching mid-thigh, slightly oversized on the top, and hung off my shoulder.

“Stop staring!” I said at his ludicrous stare.

Heat rushed up to my cheeks, forming a grin on his face.

“I bet you'd look better in one of my shirts... or better yet, nothing at all,” he playfully remarked, turning away from me to the desk.

I felt my blush deepen, flushing my face with heat. I followed his gaze; innocently sitting there was Grandma's book, open to the page I left it. Moving near him, I reached out to touch it, confused.

“Selena? Isn’t that your grandma?” he asked.

I bent forward slightly to head height and confirmed, “Yeah. But I put it away downstairs. I didn’t leave it here.”

“Was it on this page?”

“Yes.” I let out a breath.

It didn’t make sense.

Leo closed the book, and it looked like he was waiting for something.

“Closing the book isn’t going to do anything. We are in the astral plane,” I informed him, leaning away.

“Damn. You mean this isn't a dream, and we aren't going to tumble into bed?”

I laughed hard, “No, this isn't a dream, and we will not ‘tumble into bed’. I don’t think we will wake up until one of us is disturbed.”

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I continued, “We are going to have to wait this out until one of us wakes up for real.”

I felt the bed dip next to me, and my eyes widened a fraction as I turned my head to look at him. There was a short silence that befell the room. Hair covered my face as I looked to the floor, the blush returning. We had not spoken since Ostara when he asked me out. Every time I look at him, I can’t help but get butterflies.

He shifted slightly next to me, and my hair felt like it was being pulled away. My cheeks flushed lightly as the piece of hair covering my face was tucked behind my ear. Taking a deep breath, he broke the silence.

"You are beautiful when you're shy," he whispered, deep and penetrating my eardrums.

My heart thumped painfully in my chest; I'd never heard someone speak so softly... So raw. It wasn't the statement that made me shy. It was his senses; his magic was currently wrapping around me like soft ribbons.

I still didn't look at his face when he tugged me towards him. My head rested in the crook of his neck, not looking up. His arm wrapped around me, hand resting on my waist. A small chuckle vibrated his chest, and he rested his head atop mine.

A short silence again. This one was more comfortable. His fingers on my waist relaxed and stroked the material covering my skin. We just sat there like that. My embarrassment began to ebb, and I moved my head. Inch by inch, slowly, I looked up at him, butterflies rooted in my stomach, pushing out the shyness. He pulled away a little, looking down at me. His eyes, my mind went blank like I couldn't function.

His voice smoked softly, and my breathing faltered, but I still didn't move.

His other hand found my chin and pulled it up. My eyes locked onto his. The electric blue of his iris was piercing, the white streaking its way through, brightening. They were soft, dangerous, and filled with emotion, one I couldn't decipher; I felt like I was being sucked into them. I couldn't look away.

I felt his heat radiating from his body, his magic still around me. The instinct came over; I returned the favour and closed my eyes as he descended.

There was the fire; it came from the bottom of my ribs up to the centre of my chest, closer to my heart. It burned bright and brilliant. I was in awe- I felt peaceful.

Then, it was gone.

----------------------------------------

I opened my eyes, breathless and looked at Alex next to me.

"Are you okay? You were mumbling... and you’ve slept through your alarm… Are you crying?" he asked as I sat up and touched my cheeks.

Indeed, they were wet. Looking around the room, I saw everything was how I left it before bed. Except for one thing: the pouch was back. This time on my bedside table.

"I'm fine—a weird dream. I couldn't wake up. Thank you," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

"What time is it?" I said, getting out of bed, and my heart was still thumping irritably in my chest.

"Half ten, that's why I checked on you. You're not usually this late getting up," he stared at me cautiously, sensing I was uneasy.

"Must have not set my alarm," I said, sniffing and wiping my eyes. Alex nodded and left the room, not probing any further.

“Breakfast is downstairs.”

Yawning an 'Okay' to him, I got up while staring at the black pouch.