Dawn to Dark

by Halston James

  Dawn To Dark

  A Collection of Fairy Tale Retellings

  Halston James

  Sonya Jesus

  Suzan Lee

  Kelsie Rae

  Angharad Thompson Rees

  K.Z. Riley

  Courtney Shockey

  Dawn to Dark: A Collection of Fairy Tale Retellings

  Published by Vixen Publishing

  First Edition, 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Vixen Publishing

  www.vixenpublishing.com.au

  E-book ISBN: 978-0-9876409-1-8

  Print ISBN: 978-0-9876409-2-5

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights.

  These are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  K.Z. Riley

  Arabella

  Kelsie Rae

  The Hack

  Suzan Lee

  Witching Woods

  Halston James

  Out of the Woods

  Sonya Jesus

  Part of His World

  Courtney Shockey

  The Woman in the Ivy Tower

  Angharad Thompson Rees

  Moon Bitten

  Acknowledgments

  About Vixen Publishing

  Arabella

  K.Z. Riley

  ABOUT ARABELLA

  Arabella had only known pain and suffering for the past several years of her life.

  The night of her eighteenth birthday she vowed that would all change.

  Leaving the house that had been like a prison, Arabella moved across the country to start a new life. One that would begin at her new school, the University of California.

  Her plan was to make school her only focus, but that all changed when she, literally, crashed into a boy who would change her life forever.

  Follow Arabella on her journey of finding herself, discovering love, and overcoming fear.

  Published by Vixen Publishing

  First Edition, 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by K.Z. Riley

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the work of K.Z. Riley.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Arabella

  2. Arabella

  3. Royce

  4. Arabella

  5. Royce

  6. Arabella

  7. Arabella

  8. Arabella

  9. Royce

  10. Arabella

  11. Royce

  12. Arabella

  13. Royce

  14. Arabella

  15. Royce

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by K.Z. Riley

  To Destiney Word.

  Though I was quite scared to learn my college roommate would be the crazy person sitting behind me, talking about how she enjoyed having her toes sucked, I can say with confidence it was one of the best moments in my life.

  The past twelve years I have always been able to count on you.

  Whether it was for a good time or a figurative shoulder to cry on.

  I’m so thankful I was paired with you.

  I love you so very much girl!

  Thanks for being there!

  Prologue

  Pain.

  That’s all I registered as I woke on the floor of my family’s study.

  I must have lost consciousness after my stepmother’s tantrum.

  When Mother had called for me, I knew it was going to be bad. An edge had made its way into her voice that I’d never heard before.

  My step-sisters had made fools of themselves in front of Mother’s guests. Since she couldn’t use them as a punching bag, I became her outlet.

  For the most part, when these sessions happened, the pain was kept to areas easy enough for me to hide. The ribs, upper arms, or my thighs. Without much muscle on my bones, only a few hits were dished out before it ended. Any longer and Mother would cause more harm to herself.

  Whatever the girls did this time must have been far worse than anything before, if it ended with me unconscious.

  Making my way up the stairs was harder than I thought, but eventually, I was able to reach my attic room. Though “room” was stretching it. It was more like an oversized closet.

  I was forced into this space the day after we buried my father. At only the age of five, it had felt like it was such a huge deal. They saw me as a big girl, capable of sleeping on her own. That illusion was shattered as the years passed.

  Never receiving new clothes, sheets, or bedding, my growing mentality figured out I was no longer welcomed within my own home.

  The thought was cemented when I became a virtual slave to Mother and her two daughters.

  When I received my first “punishment,” hatred and loneliness settled within my soul.

  Every day that passed was one more moment in despair.

  As I sunk onto my worn-out mattress and spread my ratty quilt over my body, I made a vow to myself. The day of my eighteenth birthday, I would leave this prison.

  I’d make sure I was able to get a free ride somewhere, anywhere, and never look back.

  Grades weren’t an issue, but keeping everything hidden and secret from Mother would prove worrisome.

  I only had three years to go.

  1

  Arabella

  Freedom.

  I’d never tasted anything so sweet.

  Two weeks ago, I turned eighteen. I snuck out of Mother’s house, boarded a Greyhound bus, and headed toward my new destiny.

  The University of California offered me a full ride scholarship to study psychology. My passion was to help children who had suffered traumatic experiences. While no one knew what happened to me, it shaped the person I was today.

  A girl who viewed everyone as untrustworthy. Terrified to be alone and flinched at the quick reflexes aimed toward me.

  I never had someone to speak to. Mother kept me isolated within our home, only allowing me to step outside those four walls when absolutely necessary. I was lucky she didn’t monitor my online-schooling, blindly trusting I wasn’t up to nefarious acts.

  That ignorance was what allowed me to apply to a school on the other side of the country. Here, I would be able to reinvent myself. Somewhere no one knew me, though many people forgot about my existence after my father’s passing.

  The campus was far larger than the pictures alluded to and panic momentarily gripped my body. I wanted a school with the best professors, and unfortunately, that meant a larger one. Taking in my surroundings, warmth began to settle around my heart.

  The courtyard was filled with luscious green trees and shrubbery. People were milling about, laughing and smiling. Parents helping their kids find their rooms, tears filling their eyes. You could see the despera
te way some mothers tried to hold them back, but ultimately failing and allowing them to stream unchecked down their cheeks.

  Sadness tried to consume the elation I was feeling. The knowledge that I wouldn’t have someone there to help me could always put a damper on my mood, but I forced myself not to dwell on it. Instead, plastering a wide smile on my face and making my way to the table announcing itself as Freshman Orientation Welcome Center.

  Five lines had formed, based on the letters of your last name. With the last name of Matthews I stood in the one indicating K-O, waiting my turn to receive my dorm keys and other important information.

  The girl who assisted me was super helpful and particularly cheerful. She explained where all my classes would be held and even pointed them out on the map while showing the fastest routes from my dormitory.

  Thanking her, I moved out of the way and headed toward my first destination, Centennial Hall. I lucked out and was able to snag a room in the newest building. Taking honors classes had helped me get first dibs on the co-ed dorm.

  I hadn’t realized at the time that it would be mixed sexes, but when I discussed my concern with the registration officer, she assured me the girls would be on one floor while males would be on another.

  It was a four-story building with two floors dedicated to each sex. There was a common area on each floor with a lounge, laundry room, and a small refreshment center. I was ecstatic to see it with my own eyes. A place to call my own. Without the lingering fear of needing to look over my shoulder.

  Glancing at the map one last time, I hitched up the backpack on my shoulders, carrying the only items I possessed, and set off in the direction of my dorm. Needing to consult the map a few times and generally ignoring the hundreds of people surrounding me, I didn’t notice the game going on in front of me.

  Nor did I hear the shouted warning.

  When the collision occurred, it took a moment for me to comprehend what exactly had happened. It wasn’t until I registered the pressure on my body that the situation became problematic.

  My muscles tensed in apprehension and my eyes squeezed shut in preparation of pain. Whomever I had the misfortune of running into would most likely take their annoyance out on me.

  Several moments passed and all I felt was the body maneuvering itself off of me. Taking a chance to peel open my eyes, I saw a figure standing over me. Not just any figure, one of a man. An intimidatingly large guy with his hand extended, offering assistance.

  The brightly shining sun behind him casted shadows and made it difficult to make out many of his features. What I could make out was his size, and terror clawed its way into my system.

  Frantically searching for a way out of my current situation, my hopes were soon dashed when I noticed the multiple gazes focused on our interaction. With my breaths coming faster in each passing moment, I gave in to his subtle gesture.

  Slowly, I placed my hand within his, immediately noting the vast differences in their sizes. On my feet once again, I discreetly dusted myself off while feeling the strangers’ burning gazes following my every movement.

  I moved to go around him, muttering “I’m sorry” as I went, but he stepped in front of me.

  “Whoa, little girl. Where do you think you’re running off to so quickly?”

  When he stepped closer with his hand raised, I flinched and turned inward. My eyes closed to wait for the hand to make contact. My reaction wasn’t normal, but it was automatic, and I knew I’d made a mistake when an inhale of breath could be heard from the stranger.

  Luckily, many of the people surrounding us had lost interest in our conversation after he had helped me up so they weren’t privy to my humiliating reaction.

  Rough fingers caressed my jawline, pulling me from my defensive stance and causing my eyelids to flutter open, only to be greeted by eyes the oddest shade. I wasn’t sure if they were bright or dark, but their hue was fascinating. Almost gray in color, but yet with the right lighting I would have called them blue.

  My disturbing thoughts were broken when he spoke again, this time in a gentler tone, obviously meant to reassure and calm me.

  “I wasn’t going to hurt you, girl. I just wanted to remove the leaves from your hair.”

  Extracting my face from his grasp, I took a step back and replied to his confession.

  “Sorry. I’m just a little jumpy today. I’m in a new place and we just bumped into each other. Eyes are everywhere and…” I clamped my lips together tightly before more word vomit could spew.

  The stranger’s upper lip ticked up in a move indicating he wanted to smile but was holding it back. He glanced around before turning his eyes back to me.

  “Where’s your family?”

  And with those three words, my throat tightened along with my chest, and tears threatened to fill my lower lashes. Inhaling a quiet breath, I stepped to the side again and spoke with confidence I did not possess.

  “I’m really sorry about not paying attention, but I must be going. So, if you’ll excuse me.”

  I didn’t give him time to respond before I scuttled away as fast as I could without looking like I was running. Just before I was out of sight, I heard his voice over the chaos around me. As if my mind had already been attuned to seek out anything from his raspy cadence.

  “It was nice meeting you! I’m Royce Channing, and you can bet I’ll be seeing you around.”

  2

  Arabella

  The rest of the day passed without incident.

  When I got to my room, I realized my roommate hadn’t made it in yet, so making an executive decision, I took the bed at the back.

  Walking in, you were immediately greeted by one room to the right. You could see the occupant’s bed and a desk. To the left, right next to the door, when fully opened, was a three-drawer chest. Straight ahead was a small entryway that led to the shared bathroom and “kitchenette” before looking into an identical copy of the other occupant’s room.

  I liked the seclusion the back room offered while still being able to interact with my roommate.

  The couple of weeks that followed were a haze of classes, learning the campus, and developing friendships. Though the last one hadn’t been very successful. The only person I had bonded with was my roommate and that was more out of necessity than actual common likes and ideas.

  My roommate, Destiney, turned out to be my complete opposite. Outspoken, loud, fun, and friendly. Maybe too friendly if the constant slew of male figures walking with her were any indication. It took a few days for our personalities to work each other out, but we eventually settled into a routine.

  During the school week, we basically went about our own business except for a few nightly meals together. However, on the weekends, all bets were off.

  Dee attempted to drag me along to every social function she could find. This weekend was no exception. Most of the time I was able to get out of going, making some excuse for why I couldn’t attend. However, she wasn’t taking no for an answer this time. She wanted to get me out in the world, show me what it meant to really live—her words, not mine.

  While she didn’t know anything about my past, I think she had an idea. Destiney saw the number of times I flinched while we were together. Each time, she would shoot me a look of concern before acting as if nothing happened. An action I was entirely grateful for.

  For the party, she had dressed me in an outfit of hers: a dark pair of skinny jeans and a thin, white, long-sleeved blouse which draped into a low v in the back. It was a shirt I would have never considered wearing if I had to choose for myself, largely in part to the fact I couldn’t wear a bra with the thing.

  The girl had insisted I pair the ensemble with a set of taupe, open-toed heels.

  After I had dressed, Destiney fashioned my long blonde tresses into messy curls and called me good to go.

  The girl I saw staring back at me in the mirror was not someone I recognized. The minimal amount of makeup she had applied brought out what Dee called my best features
while the clothes highlighted my hips, legs, and chest—though she called them something far more vulgar.

  Unable to disagree with her assessment, I followed her out of our dorm and through the campus walkways.

  We were attending a fraternity party catering to a particular sports team. I had admitted to being one who had never enjoyed sports, much less able to differentiate between them. Destiney assured me that knowing about them would not be a requirement. All we needed to do was bat our eyelashes and nod our heads in agreement to whatever the boy was saying.

  It seemed demeaning to the female race, but I didn’t want to cause a scene and decided just to go along with her directions.

  The party was in full swing by the time we walked onto Greek Row, an apt name considering the numerous houses display sorority and fraternity letters. People milled about the sidewalks, many already appearing intoxicated and stumbling as they made their way to the next house.