Dark Moon Boys (Love, Lust & Magic #2)

Dark Moon Boys (Love, Lust & Magic #2)

By X. Everett

Griff

From discovering he was a legacy witch descendant to finding himself in a romantic triad with not only a vampire, but a werewolf, too, ’s first semester of college felt like an overly embellished dream. That’s why, from time to time, he felt like he had to pinch himself to make sure he was still a waking member of reality.

As two digits squeezed at the tender, smooth skin where his forearm and biceps met, it became apparent to that there was no waking up from this one.

Guess this is it, he thought to himself as his surroundings came back into view. Real life.

Adjusting the black frames on his nose, the young college freshman recognized the details of a large academic building at Mystic Hollow University. His arms and hands empty just moments ago, it surprised him to see both a textbook and planner appear in his grasp. The weight of his backpack on his shoulders was now obvious. Even though he didn’t recall waking up, it appeared he was already on his way to his next day of classes.

“I heard Professor Quinn got arrested overseas, and that it took two weeks for him to get out of a Spanish jail cell.”

“Really? A girl in another section told me he was actually working with that fame-hungry bimbo Ada Ambrose to orchestrate the homecoming massacre.”

As he approached the familiar doors that led to his theater class with Professor Quinn, stopped just shy of a small group of students talking amongst themselves.

“All I know is this means Pruitt Mondamin is the hottest, most eligible bachelor on campus. With Queen Crazy gone, he’s finally up for grabs,” he heard another student chuckle.

“ Actually ,” began , his finger pointed in the air as though to object.

“Oh, sorry,” one student interrupted as she turned to face him. “We’re just looking at grades. I think our entire section was posted.”

Neither the girl or any of her friends looked familiar to as he studied their faces. They all looked down before turning and heading off down the hallway in the opposite direction.

A handsome man with blonde hair appeared at the opposite end of the hallway, moving rapidly in his direction. Giving only an acknowledging nod, he leaned forward and grabbed the top sheet off of a stack of pages hanging from a bulletin board on one of the auditorium’s doors.

In the same manner, reached up to grab for his own. He was perplexed to discover the top sheet was covered in blood. The good-looking stranger was gone before he could ask if his paper was similarly stained. Looking down at the page, he saw that its text was smeared in crimson. However, he could still make out what it said.

Kyler - I died defending you, plus one of your boyfriends turned me into a vampire. C-.

“Take a fun class that will satisfy your humanities credits without endangering your GPA, they said,” recited mockingly, recalling the advice given to him by his academic advisor. “Great . ”

Well, now that it’s apparent I’m in some kind of dream state, I guess I can just ? —

“And don’t forget about me,” came a familiar voice from behind him.

— work on waking up from it before it gets worse. Something tells me I’m a little late for that, though.

spun around to find Darcy Landon towering over him. Only in a pair of jeans, his now-former roommate-turned-possessed-witch appeared to be in the throes of a serious fever. His shapely pecs moved rapidly with his breathing as sweat dripped down his shoulders, stomach, and arms.

“Darce?” extended a consoling hand out to him. “Y-you okay?”

The disturbed young man before him did not respond, and let his fingers brush against Darcy’s shoulder before offering him a firm, friendly pat.

“Look, if this is about me asking you to move out, I think the circumstances called for it.” ’s words fell on deaf ears as Darcy’s face shifted from a look of agony to one of fear. could tell that his old accomplice was no longer looking at him, but past him and back to the bulletin board. Maybe he got a mediocre grade, too?

followed Darcy’s line of sight, but there was nothing scary to be seen. “Hey,” he began again, concern in his voice. “Talk to me.”

Those four words set Darcy into motion. Shrugging off ’s touch, he placed his own hands on the witch’s shoulders and spun him around to see what he was looking at. “You’ll soon understand.”

“Understand what?” a bewildered replied as he once again stared at the bloody parchment addressed to him.

“The importance of life,” Darcy whispered. As the words left his lips, they were joined by a powerful gust of wind coming from behind. The pages on the bulletin board flipped up, each revealing a new message written in blood. “… And death,” Darcy’s voice echoed through the halls now.

To , the bloody scribblings made no sense. They shifted and changed, at first appearing to be Latin before becoming indecipherable. Now frantic, he grabbed at the pages, ripping off one after the other.

“So much for saving the trees!” shouted into the ether as the stack seemed to grow. Finally, he ripped off two more pages before realizing that the messages were now making sense to him.

“ Death ,” he read from left to right. “ Death is …”

Dropping those pages, he grabbed at more. “ Death is not the… ” After looking up at the next sheet, he stopped reading.

A crumpled, wind-damaged piece of paper rattled against the door as the wind gusts from earlier returned. As expected, painted carefully in blood over a print-out of classroom exam results was the word End .

“How original,” he scoffed. That’s not what caused the sudden goosebumps across his skin, however.

Strands of long, white hair appeared from underneath the bloody parchment. At first, they were almost impossible for the eye to see. But as a few stray slivers became a large mane of ivory, he backed away.

“N-no,” said . “Not in my dream.”

A woman’s voice responded. “Who says it’s yours?”

Flashes of Odessa, the First Witch and originator of magic—also known as his ancient ancestor who tried to both possess and kill him all in the first week of classes—filled his mind. But was smart enough to know that, if indeed this was truly a dream, he had the power to control it.

What started as an annoying indoor squall had developed into a full-fledged on-campus tornado. “ I do ,” he replied with determination before taking off down the hall.

With one hand grasping at the door handle before him for leverage, used the other to try and free himself from the long hair that now wrapped around and engulfed him. He ripped it out, chunk by chunk, letting it disappear down the hallway into the void. “Now, get these nasty, ancient extensions out of my face.” True to character, he accented his insults with forceful tugs that yielded fistfuls of snow-colored locks.

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