Forevermore Read Online Free

making me realize how utterly alone I am. Mom and Niall are wrapped up in each other. My dad is gone. I have no siblings, grandparents, or even aunts and uncles that I’m close to. My step-grandmother has apparently decided to hate my guts. My friends back home — if I can even call them friends anymore — are an ocean away. I fight the urge to cry. Jonas will be back soon and he doesn’t need to see me sniffling and sobbing.
    Within a few moments, he returns with a tray, and on it a pot of steaming-hot tea, a flowery cup and saucer, sugar cubes, cream, and a tiny little spoon. Three thick, rectangular cookies sit upon a frilly napkin. “Here you are, young lady,” he says, placing the tray on my bedsidetable. “Tea, and some shortbread to go with it. If you should need anything else, my chambers are behind the kitchen downstairs.”
    “Thank you,” I say, realizing Jonas is the closest thing I have to a friend right now. “I really appreciate it.”
    “My pleasure,” he responds, then quietly leaves me alone.
    As I sip the tea and chomp on the cookies — shortbread, I remind myself — I do start to feel better. I even get brave enough to walk over to my violin and bow and lift them up, feeling their familiar weight. It was just your imagination , I tell myself.
    I take my violin to the window and find a comfortable spot on the window seat. Outside, the Highlands are covered in inky darkness. With a sigh, I drag my bow over the strings and begin to play, improvising. The melody that comes out is soft, yet powerful. The melancholy sound fits my mood as I gaze out into the shadows of the moors.

 
    M y eyes pop open. I bolt up in bed, confused.
    Remembering.
    What had happened in the middle of the night? Was it real? I think back.
    I’d lain awake in the huge bed for hours, trying to fall asleep. It seemed as though everything hit me at once — memories of Dad, memories of getting suspended from school for cutting class to play violin at a festival two counties over, memories of Callie and other friends — you name it, I thought about it. I’d also listened to every creak and groan coming through the walls of the castle.
    Then, just as my eyes had finally drifted shut, I’d heard it. At least, I think I heard it. So soft, I’d nearly missed it. Could I have even dreamed it? I’m pretty sure I didn’t.
    “Begone! Leave here at once!”
    My eyes had flashed open. It was a deep, scratchy voice — a guy’s voice — with a thick Scottish accent. The words were so clear it was as if someone had spoken them right into my ear. But how could that be? I got up, turned on the lights, and searched the room, not sure of what I was expecting, but certain something unnatural lurked close by. I never found anything, but the feeling never went away, either.
    Finally, I’d fallen asleep.
    And now it’s morning. Though it’s not as bright and airy as my home in Charleston was, the castle feels much less gloomy in the light of day. Slipping from the bed, I pull on a pair of jeans, my All Stars, and a thick pumpkin-colored sweater. I also drape my coat over my arm, stuffing my knit hat into the pocket. Maybe I’ll take a walk after breakfast.
    When I get downstairs, I run right into Elizabeth coming out of her room.
    “You’re late,” she says, and her jaw tightens. “I will not tolerate late .”
    I stare at her, speechless. “For — for breakfast? I … didn’t know there was a specific time —”
    “There’s always a specific time,” Elizabeth interrupts. Although she’s petite, in her black heels, we are eye to eye.
    So quickly I almost miss it, Elizabeth’s cold eyes change. In color? Or size? Something undefined about them shifts.
    Whatever it is, it’s … frightening.
    “And you’d best not be late again.” Elizabeth lowers her voice. “Or else .”
    I recoil, mostly out of shock that she’s being so harsh. The corner of her mouth lifts in a grin that reminds me of one of the gargoyles’,