Cresent Prophecy by Axelle Chandler (sad books to read TXT) 📗

Scrambling to my feet and hoping no one had seen my commando roll, I legged it over the field. Sheep scattered, bleating in panic as I made my way toward Roy’s farm. I wiggled ungracefully over another fence, almost slipped on my ass on the muddy track, and stepped in a pile of animal shite—that I had to stop and scrape off my boot on the fence—before I finally made it to the farmhouse.

The excited barking of Roy’s black and white border collie, Phee, erupted as she sensed my presence, and she barreled around the corner and practically leaped into my arms.

“Hey, girl,” I said gently, trying to fend off her pink tongue. I’d had enough unwanted French kissing for one day, thank you very much.

“Phee! Down!” There was a sharp whistle, and the dog backed off and ran back toward Roy, who’d follow the excited sheepdog’s flight.

“Hey,” I said, raising my hand as the old man waddled around the corner.

“Skye. This is a surprise. Is somethin’ the matter? Need help towin’ a car out of the creek again?”

I groaned, shaking a fist at the sky. The last time I’d asked Roy for a favor was when the real estate agent I’d called to evaluate Irish Moon for sale had almost smashed into the hawthorn in the middle of the village, swerved to miss, and landed in the creek behind Mary’s Teahouse instead. We had to get the farmer and his tractor to pull the poor guy out. Would Derrydun ever let it go?

“I’m looking for Boone,” I said. “Is he here?”

“Is somethin’ the matter with you two? The lad’s been grumpy the last week. Ever since that Australian lad appeared.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Give me a break!” I exclaimed. “I just gave him a black eye to match the one Boone gave him.”

“You did?”

“Have you seen him or not?”

“Nay,” he replied. “He was here today but left a while ago.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. He must’ve finished work, then crossed the field. It was shorter to visit the sheep than to take the main road back into the village. And there I was sitting by the tower house with Alex, right in his path. Talk about moronic.

“Thanks, anyway,” I said, reaching down to scratch Phee behind the ears. “If you see him, can you tell him I stopped by?”

“Aye.” Roy nodded.

Heading back the way I came, I fared much better over the fences and dodged all the piles of animal shite. When I passed the tower house, Alex had already left, which was good news for him. I was a hairsbreadth away from sinking my boot into the family jewels and stomping on his grapes.

It was a long shot, but Boone wasn’t at the cottage, Mary’s Teahouse, or Molly McCreedy’s. No one had seen him, either. I stopped by his little cottage on the outskirts the village—the cottage he hadn’t let me see—but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

Not knowing what else to do and way past leaving him alone to wallow, I went to the hawthorn in the woods.

Staring up at the tree, I grasped the talisman around my neck and closed my eyes. Imagining the ball of golden light in my chest, I thought about Boone. Where are you? Come to me…

I had no idea if it would work, but I was out of options. If he’d gone off somewhere to sulk and had stepped outside the boundary, something might happen to him. When we went to Croagh Patrick, no one had followed or attempted to stop us, but it didn’t mean we weren’t being watched by whoever had taken his memories. Hannah had lured him away from the hawthorns, and look what happened.

Where are you? Come to me…

The low growling hummed behind me, and I turned, my eyes flying open.

A russet-colored fox was prowling around the clearing, his head down and his eyes flashing. Boone!

Darting across the clearing, I fell to my knees before him, ignoring his bared teeth.

“Boone!” I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, my fingers digging into his waxy fur, and I shook him. “You’re acting like a baby! Change back so I can talk to you!”

He yipped and growled, shaking himself and dislodging my grasp.

“Boone!” I said again, reaching for him. “Please!”

He danced around the clearing, clearly agitated. Of all the stubborn foxes…

“He tricked me,” I said, tears forming in my eyes. “I went to tell him… I told him he would never win me back. I…” I love you. The words stuck in my throat, and I raised my hand to my neck. “I…” Why couldn’t I say it?

I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs. I wanted to tell Boone he meant everything to me. He gave me his heart in this very spot, and I wanted to give him mine forever. You hear that universe? Forever!

“I…”

Boone stared at me, his fox eyes shining eerily in the half-light of twilight.

“I…” I tried to form the words, but I began to cough instead, choking on my declaration.

The fox growled and leaped away, disappearing into the darkening forest, leaving me all alone in the middle of the clearing.

Falling to my knees, I gasped for breath.

“I… L… Lo…”

Why couldn’t I say it?

The next morning, I woke fully clothed, askew on the bed, one foot hanging off the edge and my arm flung over the other. I’d slept sideways on top of the quilt.

Lifting my head, I sniffed my armpit. I stunk like sheep shite. Somehow, I’d made it back to the cottage in one piece, but who knew how that eventuated.

Dragging myself out of bed and shuffling into the shower, I washed the filth off me, then slapped on some fresh clothes and a pound of makeup to disguise the bags under my eyes.

Outside, the day had hardly begun, and it was already dreary. The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of gray, dew was sticking to every available surface, and my