"The Silver Cross: My Angel, My Monster" Chapter 2
That’s right—this boy, who looked barely fifteen or sixteen, was the owner of the candy shop, Solano Thorne.
This enigmatic youth never did what kids his age were supposed to do. He didn't go to class, had no friends, and never mentioned his parents. He just ran this candy shop alone, with me as his only employee.
“Long time no see,” the man at the bar said, standing up with a smile.
Solano frowned. “Why are you here?” His tone was utterly cold, not at all like one speaking to a friend. He then turned to me. “Take the day off. Go home early.”
“Why?” I blinked, confused.
“Didn't you say yesterday that today is your birthday?” Solano said flatly.
I nodded, my face full of touched emotion. What a considerate boss! Joyfully taking the chocolate cake I’d prepared earlier that morning, I grabbed my bag and clocked out early.
“Miss!” Just as I stepped out of the shop, the handsome stranger called out to me.
“Yes?” I looked back at him.
“Remember. Do not save anyone today.”
That weird divination again? I waved my hand dismissively and turned to leave.
Lighthearted music drifted out from a nearby media store. The upbeat melody floated through the air, and seeing that it was still early, I hummed along as I walked toward the snack street across the way.
“Ah! Aurora Vance!”
“Aurora Vance!”
“Ah... it’s Aurora!”
“Dear Lord... it’s Aurora!”
“Aurora is here!”
A chorus of startled cries rang out. In an instant, vendors packed their stalls, shopkeepers slammed their doors, and windows were bolted shut. The entire street was left empty, leaving me standing alone in the snow.
Was it really necessary? I wasn’t some marauding beast! It’s a long story, but to keep it short: supposedly, ten years ago, a fire suddenly erupted in the Blythe Street junkyard. Right then, the mother-in-law of a local woman kicked the bucket, claiming "A demon has entered the world" with her final breath...
Ten years ago happened to be exactly when I appeared in that junkyard. To make matters worse, that old woman was a famous local psychic whose prophecies were said to be unerringly accurate.
Wryly twisting my mouth, I scanned my surroundings. Only one trembling old lady was left, unable to run away in time. Hopping and skipping, I rushed forward and enthusiastically grabbed her arm. “Grandma, let me help you cross the street!”
The old lady shuddered, looking at me with miserable, cloudy eyes.
“There you go, Grandma. Take care.”
“Right,” the old lady nodded with a pained expression.
“Wait, Grandma, you look a bit familiar...” I frowned slightly, feeling puzzled.
“...Because this is the eight hundred and thirty-sixth time you’ve helped me across the street...” the old lady sighed.
My lip twitched. I smiled. “That’s okay, don't worry about it. With all these cars coming and going, it’s dangerous for you to be alone...”
ADVERTISEMENT
The old lady’s eyes welled with tears.
Silence.
The entire street was deathly quiet. Aside from a stray dog with a missing tail barking in the distance, there wasn't even a bicycle in sight...
“Even if there aren't cars... your legs aren't what they used to be. It’s always better to have help,” I continued, still smiling.
After seeing her across, I headed into a nearby supermarket.
I bought groceries and headed home.
Pushing the door open, I flipped the light switch, and the room instantly brightened. With a squeak, a dark, blurry object darted over my foot. I froze, then got angry. “Hey! We live under the same roof! Can’t you be a little more subtle? Stop being so arrogant, or I’ll buy some poison and finish you off tomorrow!”
The large black rat I called out shivered and vanished into a hole in the corner.
As I leaned down to change into my slippers, a large cockroach crawled unhurriedly past my eyes. I finally snapped, grabbing a slipper and—smack—flattening it into a roach-pancake.
“I told you all to behave. We could have lived in peace,” I muttered, putting on my slippers and standing up.
The room was a mess. A noodle bowl from breakfast, smelly socks from yesterday... I shrunk my neck in embarrassment. If Gareth saw this, he would definitely tease me.
I picked up a trash bag and tossed the bowl and socks inside. I pulled a fresh white floral tablecloth from the cabinet, set the chocolate cake on the table, and checked the clock. It was already 6:15. I dashed into the kitchen to start cooking.
Truthfully, I have zero talent for housework. After bustling in the kitchen for ages, the dishes I brought to the table were a bit of an eyesore. However, their appearance didn't dampen my mood. Sitting at the table, I happily poked candles into the cake.
I looked up at the time: 8:10.
“Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to Rory...” I hummed softly, straining my ears for the sound of footsteps outside the door.
Gareth, today is my twentieth birthday. You’ll come back, won't you?
You’ll come back, and then you’ll smile and pick me up, just like before, gently rubbing your nose against mine and looking at me tenderly as you say: “Rory, happy birthday.”
Just thinking about it made the corners of my mouth curl up uncontrollably.
Ten years ago, I woke up in a trash heap. My memory was a void, and everyone avoided me like the plague. Just when I thought I would die there and truly become a piece of garbage, someone carried me home.
His name was Gareth.
It was an early morning. As the first light of dawn rose in the east, he stood before me, the warm sunlight draping over him like an angelic halo.
Such an elegant, refined man. He held my filthy self with such care, as if I were a precious pearl.
ADVERTISEMENT
At ten years old, I didn't know where I came from, didn't remember my name, and couldn't even... walk or talk.
When I was unhappy, he used candy to coax a smile out of me. When I refused to eat, he fed me spoonful by spoonful.
He supported me, held me, and watched as I slowly learned to walk.
He taught me to speak. The first word I ever learned was... “Gareth.”
He taught me to write, stroke by stroke, hand in hand, with such tenderness and patience.
Even my name was chosen by him.
He said "Aurora" meant the dawn—a new beginning.
To me, Gareth was like oxygen; without him, I would forget how to breathe. I didn't care where I came from or what my "real" name was. None of it mattered as long as I remembered I was Aurora Vance.
The Aurora Vance who belonged only to Gareth.
Aurora: the dawn, a new beginning.
For five years, even with nothing to my name, I was blissfully happy because I had Gareth.
But one day, he suddenly vanished.
That was five years ago, on my fifteenth birthday. I came home from school to find a table of steaming food, my favorite chocolate cake, and a birthday gift from Gareth—a candy box filled with every colorful sweet I loved.
But he wasn't there to greet me with a smile as usual.
Just like that, he disappeared from my life without a trace.
However, I believe he will return. Because... he is my Gareth.
And I am his Rory.
Dong... dong... dong... The heavy bell of the distant clock tower struck eleven times. I snapped out of my reverie and checked the wall clock; the hand pointed toward eleven.
Today is my twentieth birthday. He’ll come back, right?
For five years, I had held this same expectation every birthday. My Gareth, wearing his white pullover and tan casual trousers, would walk through the door carrying a gift, and then...
One step, two steps, three steps, four steps, five steps, six...
He would reach the door and slide the key into the lock...
Suddenly, there was a faint sound outside. I froze. Footsteps!
Was it a hallucination? My imagination?
...No!
My eyes snapped wide, a thin veil of mist clouding my vision. “Gareth!”
Gareth was back! It had to be him! He was home!
I scrambled to my feet to open the door, but then hurriedly turned back to light the candles.
Seeing the warm flame of the candles dancing, I rushed toward the door. My knee slammed hard against a chair, sending me off balance. With a heavy thud, I crashed to the floor.
Almost crawling, I lunged for the door. “Gareth, Gareth, wait for me! I’m opening it!”
My trembling hands yanked the door open. I stared blankly at the white, snowy world outside.
There was no one.
The knee I’d just hit began to throb. It hurt—so much that the pain seemed to seep into my very heart... I sat on the floor, strengthless. But then, I gasped. There was someone lying in the snow outside!
ADVERTISEMENT
You May Also Like
-
CompletedChapter 19
Owned by the Devil
Rain hammered against the stone steps of St. Mary’s Cathedral. Mia Clarke backed away instinctively. One step. Then another. Until the cold stone hit her spine and there was nowhere left to go. The convoy had arrived less than thirty seconds ago. Black SUV. Headlights flooding the churchyard. Men in dark suits moving with military precision. And in the middle of all of it— him. Damien Lancaster stepped out of the car like violence wearing a tailored coat. He was devastatingly beautiful. That was the worst part. His looks weren't safe; his charm wasn't human. He was beautiful the way a loaded gun was beautiful: cold, polished, lethal. The priest tried to shield her. Two men pulled him aside instantly. Damien never even looked at them. His eyes stayed locked on Mia the entire time. She felt a sick twist in her stomach—she realized he was furious. Not a loud fury. Not rage. Something quieter. Something infinitely worse. It was the silence of a decision already made. In that quiet, he had already decided the fate of everyone here. “Mia.” Her name left his mouth softly. Almost gently. It frightened her more than a shout ever could. She turned to run. He caught her before she cleared the last step. One hand clamped around her wrist. The other dragged her hard against his chest. No hesitation. No softness. He smelled like rain, menthol smoke, and expensive whiskey. “Mia,” he repeated near her ear, his voice low enough that only she could hear it, “did you really think you could disappear from me?” She pushed against his chest with everything she had. “Let go of me.” That finally made him smile. Slowly. Beautifully. Wrong. “You vanished for eleven days,” he said quietly. “I stopped sleeping on day three.” The church bells rang overhead. Nobody moved. His men didn't even dare to breathe. Damien lowered his head slightly, forehead nearly touching hers. And in that terrifyingly intimate moment— she understood something too late. This man was not trying to win her back. He already believed she belonged to him. Forever.Dark Humor|Mutual Pining|Plot Twist|Yandere|Instant Marriage|Possessive Love|Redemption Arc|Sweet Romance|HE20.7k words5 0 -
CompletedChapter 15
Thorns and Bone: A Kiss of Embers
"I spent three centuries waiting for a ghost to haunt me. When she finally returned, she was wearing a collar." Cillian de Valcourt is the Sovereign of the Eternal Night, a predator who has ruled for three centuries with nothing but boredom and blood in his veins. He isn’t looking for redemption—he is looking for the only woman who ever came close to killing him. Willow Solence remembers everything. She remembers the steel of her blade against his throat, the fire in his eyes, and the final, shattering moment of their past-life duel. She was the Hunter’s Guild’s deadliest elite, but now, she is reborn into the ultimate nightmare: a low-born blood-servant in the court of her greatest enemy. She is his captive; he is her ruin. In this cutthroat game of political maneuvering and lethal secrets, they are the only two people who truly know the monsters lurking beneath each other’s skin. For Willow, the goal is vengeance—a slow, calculated dismantling of his empire. For Cillian, the goal is possession—a desperate, terrifying obsession that defies time itself. As they dance on the razor’s edge of betrayal, Willow realizes the truth: this resurrection wasn’t a second chance. It was a trap. And in their final, inevitable collision, she discovers that for a man who has lived too long, the only thing sweeter than ruling the world is watching it burn to ashes in her arms. One life to kill him. One death to keep him.Mutual Pining|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Vampires|Possessive Love17.1k words5 0 -
CompletedChapter 50
The Alpha’s Defiant Vamp: Beg For Me
Blurb: "I, Alpha Killian Vance, reject you, Evangeline Frost, as my mate." With those cold words, my destiny was shattered. Framed for a crime I didn't commit, rejected by the golden Alpha I had secretly loved for years, I was hunted like an animal by the very pack I called home. Forced to the edge of the border cliff, I chose freedom over a fake trial. I jumped. And the black ocean swallowed the weak, broken Omega whole. Two years later, Blackwood’s invincible Alpha falls into an ambush. He wakes up chained in silver, bleeding and broken, expecting a monster. Instead, I step out of the shadows. No longer a packless slave, but the supreme Sovereign of the Night, burning with lethal hybrid blood and wearing a crown of ruby and ice. I grip his golden hair, forcing his proud head back as my fangs slide out. “Now, Alpha Vance... who is the master, and who is the dog?” Killian is desperate to crawl back to me, his inner wolf begging for my venom, but a Scorpio never forgets. Will the Alpha’s lethal addiction be his salvation, or will my vengeance burn both our kingdoms to ash?Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Vampires|Werewolves|Glow-Up|Possessive Love|Redemption Arc|HE53.2k words5 6