Page 12 of Saving Stella

Her life wasn’t perfect, but she was content and happy. And in one fell swoop, everything changed. Not only did she find out she was related to a rockstar, but that she was also a Supernatural.

Her hand landed on her chest again, rubbing small circles over her heart.

Was it there? Inside her?

How did it work?

Would she grow claws and teeth and rip her clothes off?

Reaching for her cellphone by the nightstand, she rolled onto her back and tapped on her messaging app. She opened a new message and put Devon’s contact in the “To” field.

So … hey.

It’s me.

I mean, it’s Stella.

The beeping sound of the incoming message started her, making her toss her phone in the air. “Eeep!”

The device landed on the ground with a soft thud. Thankfully, her rug was thick and plush, and the screen remained intact. Her heart thudded as she read the message that came in.

Devon

Hi Stella. Thank you for messaging me.

Hands shaking, she managed to type back.

You’re welcome.

Ugh. That sounded cringey and awkward.

I’m sorry, is it late for you? Where are you touring right now?

Youngstown, Ohio.

I think? But wherever I am, it’s three am, but no worries. I was awake anyway. My mate was hungry and she wanted a snack.

The next message that popped up was a photo—one of a pretty brunette woman in pajamas sitting cross-legged on a plush leather couch, a tub of ice cream on her lap. She smiled into the camera, her spoon raised triumphantly.

Charley says hi, by the way.

Tell her I said hi back.

So, mate? Is that like a girlfriend or wife?

Something like that. It’s a Lycan thing, apparently.

Apparently?

Yeah, it’s a long, complicated explanation. I don’t know much about it either.

She kept forgetting that he, too, had recently just discovered he was a Supernatural. Still, he had more experience than her, and she wanted to ask him a million questions, but she didn’t know if it would be rude or if this was the right time. After all, they’d only been texting for all of five minutes.

Almost forgot…

Another photo popped up—this time, it was a selfie of Devon, his hair disheveled and his sky-blue eyes sleepy but with a smile on his face.

In case you wanted to make sure it’s really me and I didn’t give you a fake number.

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