My Haunted Fairytale - Book 2 (The Enchanted Castle Series) Read online

  My Haunted Fairytale - Book 2 - The Enchanted Castle Series

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  My Haunted Fairytale

  by Chrissy Peebles

  Book 2: The Enchanted Castle Series

  ©2012 by Chrissy Peebles

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Dedications:

  This is dedicated to my wonderful God and Jesus; to Faith and Matthew; and to Autumn Conley, the most brilliant editor in the world. What would I do without your magic touch?

  Chapter 1

  The wind whipped my hair around as I followed the stone path in the garden. Shivering, I zipped up my black, leather coat as the sun shone on my face. I was spending my senior year of high school in a beautiful Scottish castle. Perfectly manicured gardens like something out of a fairytale; dozens of friendly peacocks with their brilliantly colored feathers; a huge, star-shaped maze; towering, ancient trees; and stone walls surrounded the property. As I took it all in, it was hard to believe I’d been chosen for the program.

  I felt like a princess, with my own private, spacious room furnished with lush, antique furniture and ornate, priceless décor. The castle was absolutely breathtaking, from its Old World, gothic architecture and vaulted ceiling supported by inlaid stone columns to its grand paintings and sculptures. No expense had been spared, and not one minute detail of any room or corridor had been overlooked. Cliché as it might sound, I’d even met my knight in shining armor, Hunter, with big, bright blue eyes and messy black hair; like all smitten maidens, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Hunter was the last person I thought about before I went to sleep and the first person I thought about when I opened my eyes—and he often inhabited my dreams in between.

  What a way to start out the school year! I marveled, overwhelmed by what had just occurred. Hundreds of golden orbs had invaded the attic we’d been trapped in. Unlike my mother, I’d never paid much mind to the whole paranormal thing, but I have to admit I was a little freaked out. What bothered me even more than the floating orbs was that painting of Princess Isabella; she bore a striking resemblance to me. How is it possible that I look so much like a princess who lived hundreds of years ago? I wondered, fingering my tear-shaped crystal pendant that was exactly like the one the princess was wearing in her portrait. My mother had told me the necklace was a heirloom that had been passed from one generation to the next, but I was certain it couldn’t be the same one that the princess once wore. It was all just too—impossible.

  I glanced over my shoulder when I heard footsteps coming up from behind me on the cobblestone path.

  “Zoey!”

  “Hey, Hunter.” Shivers ran up my spine and goosebumps pimpled my skin. Just hearing him say my name was an adrenalin rush.

  “You just disappeared after…well, after all that crazy stuff happened.”

  “I just needed some fresh air, so I went and got my jacket and came out here.”

  “That was pretty insane, huh? Like something out of some weird sci-fi flick.”

  I stuck my hands in my pocket as I contemplated the strange occurrences. “Yeah. I’m still trying to process it all.”

  “Wanna come hang out with the gang? Maybe it’ll help you get your mind off it. We’re going to watch some movies in the south wing living room—complete with gourmet refreshments like chips and Pepsi.”

  He almost had me at “Pepsi,” and I laughed inwardly. “Tempting, but I really just want to be alone right now.”

  “Hmm. Would you take me up on my offer if I left the gang out of it? Just you and me?”

  I laughed. “You catch on quick. I’m just not really up to socializing with a crowd right now, if that makes any sense.”

  He held up his hand. “You don’t have to explain. We can just go for a walk if you want.”

  I beamed. “I’d like that.”

  As we walked and talked, my Prince Charming and I came up with a million possibilities about what those orbs might be all about. We first dismissed it as some mind trick, an illusion that would have made David Copperfield jealous, a magic trick by Mother Nature pouring daylight in through an opening in the wall. We hadn’t seen any opening or any sign of intruding daylight, but our minds demanded a rational explanation, so we clung to that remote possibility for a moment; no matter how improbable it was, it was better than some paranormal activity explanation.

  “You know, as much as I want to believe all that, it’s time we get real and do our homework on this,” Hunter said with a smirk.

  I sighed because I knew he was right. “Yeah. I suppose it’s best to keep an open mind. Speaking of homework, we’d better get to it.”

  We walked together to get our books and assignments. When we turned down the right corridor, I grabbed his well-defined forearm and led him past the empty armor knights that guarded the hall, into the library, the most well lit place in the castle.

  It was nothing like the public library back home, with shelf after shelf of fiction and nonfiction and properly marked Dewey decimals crowding a relatively plain room. No, this giant room was anything but plain. Books were treated like treasures there, sitting atop ornately engraved gold shelves built right into the walls. My gaze shot up to the fresco paintings on the ceiling; the amazing detail and colors of those long-ago murals always took my breath away. In fact, everything about the room was captivating and absolutely breathtaking, right down to the well-preserved leather on the bindings of the old books.

  We sat down at a Jacaranda-like table in the middle of the room to discuss our game plan, then split up and began looking through the countless rows of tomes, so mesmerized that we lost track of time. We spent hours in there with no floating orbs, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down, as I had no idea of knowing when they’d magically appear again.

  A sudden burst of laughter caught
my attention. When I glanced around, I noticed two girls pointing and staring at me. When I rolled my eyes, they stopped their giggling and pretended to be looking for books.

  “Let’s go,” one said in a loud whisper.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t wanna be in here with Little Miss Wierdo.”

  “I’m surprised she even came out of her room.”

  She blushed. “Hunter could lure anybody out, if you ask me. Look at him!”

  “Yeah, he’s gorgeous all right, but what does he see in her?”

  “I know, right? He could be with anyone he chooses, and he picks the castle imp.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “She’s just so…odd. How much fun can somebody have holing up in one room all day?”

  “Shh!” the other one said. “Not so loud. Her mom’s a gypsy. She might put a hex on us.”

  I bit my lip hard as they burst out in laughter again, then walked away. I walked back to the table and sat down, pretending their insults hadn’t fazed me and hoping Hunter was concentrating too hard on his reading to overhear their gibberish.

  As he opened another book, Hunter met my gaze. “They’re just jealous.”

  He heard that? Great. How embarrassing.

  “You’re prettier than them,” he said.

  I blushed. “Thank you.” I sure didn’t feel it, not one tiny bit.

  “They see you as a threat, that’s all—and they should.”

  “They don’t get me whatsoever. If they did, they’d know I adore the outdoors. I just can’t…well, anyway, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what they say.”

  “Good,” Hunter said, “because neither do I.”

  I looked away, smiling. When I looked back up, he was engrossed again in his assignment. I found myself staring at Hunter, taking in every perfect feature, from his chiseled jaw to his messy black hair. In spite of what those snobby witches had to say about me, I was with Hunter, and it felt like a dream—probably one they envied.

  As I sat there, though, I started to fixate on their insults. Am I really a weirdo? A loner? A freak? And if so, why would somebody as outgoing and friendly as Hunter want with me? Everyone in this school treated me like I was invisible. But why should I care? After all, that was the way I’d wanted it, right from the start. I wasn’t about to pretend I was desperate for anyone’s friendship.

  Hunter looked up at me and caught me staring, and my face flushed as he smirked.

  I slammed my book shut, hoping he couldn’t read my mind. “There. I’m finished. How about you?”

  “Uh…just putting on some final touches.” He smiled.

  I leaned in to get a better glimpse, but he covered the paper with his arm, to stop me from prying.

  “No peeking. You’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Not only am doing my homework, but I’m also coming up with some ideas about what might be going on around here.”

  I shrugged, pretending his mysteriousness wasn’t killing me inside. The truth is, I was dying to find out what his beautiful mind had come up with, especially since mine had gone on vacation and I hadn’t come up with even one viable explanation for what we’d seen.

  Crash!

  I turned around when a book flew off the top shelf and flung across the room, landing at my feet. I jumped up, startled, and turned to face Hunter. “Hey! Did you see that?”

  “What the heck?” Hunter reached for the leather-bound volume, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. “Cinderella?” He looked at me with a quizzical expression, arching his eyebrow.

  I looked around and saw no one. “There’s no way that could’ve flown off the shelf by itself, but…” I shook my head, trying to put two and two together. “We’re the only ones in here. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not sticking around to find out. Let’s get out of here,” Hunter said, grabbing my arm protectively.

  “No…wait.” I shook my arm free and grabbed the book out of his hands. I skimmed the pages. “You know, Cinderella was ultimately a princess and lived in a castle, just like the woman in the portrait from the attic. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe this castle’s princess is trying to get my attention.”

  “Whoa! You’re getting carried away here, don’t you think? You think Isabella, a chick who’s been dead for centuries, is hurling fairytales at you?” Hunter’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward for a closer peek, wondering what was going on.

  I slowly looked around the room. “I know it’s Isabella. She knew exactly what book to throw, a book about a princess.”

  Hunter shrugged. “Hey, Isabella!” Hunter yelled into thin air. “We know it’s you. Why don’t you just show yourself?”

  I gasped. “Hold on. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

  “Show yourself, Isabella!” he yelled, ignoring my trepidation.

  The second row of books flew off the shelf and crashed to the ground with a loud thud that reverberated from the walls. For a moment, silence ensued between Hunter and me, and then more thudding ensued. At first it was just a quiet, rhythmical thumping, but it grew louder and louder and more unnerving with each passing second.

  “Oh my gosh! Wh-what’s going on?” I stammered, clutching my chest and heading for the door. As I tried to make a quick exit, I bumped into our history teacher, Mr. Geo.

  “What’s going on in here? You intend to make a mess of the place and then just take off? I don’t think so, young lady. You two pick all these books up right now, and somebody better start explaining this to me.”

  Hunter obediently began picking up books and placing them back on the shelf, hiding his typical smirk. I couldn’t believe the guy; he didn’t seemed in the slightest perturbed. “Listen, Teach’, we didn’t do this. Seems you’ve got yourself a little princess haunting this library.”

  Mr. Geo’s eyes narrowed. “Do not talk to me in that disrespectful tone, young man, and stop lying! You’ll both stay here until midnight if that’s what it takes to get a proper explanation.”

  “It’s no use. He’s not gonna believe us,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Sorry. It was me. I’m just so…clumsy,” Hunter lied, feigning remorse, then winking at me.

  In spite of the urgency of the situation I couldn’t help but smile.

  “There. Now…is the truth really so hard to admit?” Mr. Geo said.

  “Mr. Geo,” I said, “do you remember when we read about Queen Victoria in class?”

  He cocked a brow. “Yes, of course. Why?”

  “How was she connected with Princess Isabella?”

  He smiled, as if he was impressed that I’d remembered anything from class. “Well, not to sound cliché in the least, but Queen Victoria was Isabella’s evil stepmother, you could say. Before Victoria married King Edward, Isabella’s father, she had four daughters. They became Isabella’s stepsisters.”

  Hmm, I thought. The book Isabella threw at me might convey more meaning than I thought. Maybe she was actually trying to show me the connection. It all made sense somehow, but I still had no idea why.

  “According to legend, they were all killed on a fateful day in 1296,” Mr. Geo said.

  “I know. It’s awful!” I said. “Why didn’t the soldiers just take everyone as prisoners?”

  “Anger and revenge, I’m assuming.” He walked over to the door and prepared to turn off the lights. “Come on. You kids need to get to your rooms. It’s getting late.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “Mr. Geo,” Hunter said, “I heard that in Britain, students often call their teachers by their first names. Can I call you Edward?”

  “I’m sure that’s just a fallacy you must have seen in one of those blasted movies about little boys at wizard schools! In any case, you most certainly may not refer to me as anything other than my proper name, Mr. Geo,” he snapped. “We discussed this in orientation. The man running this program is American, and so are the teachers, and respect is crucial.”

  “But the
re are Scottish and British students too,” I said.

  “Regardless, we think it’s best to stick with American customs,” the teacher said.

  “All right, all right,” Hunter said. “Mr. Geo, it is.”

  I bit my lip as an awkward silence ensued between us. “Goodnight, Mr. Geo.”

  “Goodnight, Zoey,” he said, turning to the right to make his way down the long hall.

  Hunter walked me to my room. “Are you okay to sleep in this big, old room by yourself?”

  I laughed and touched his arm lightly. “I doubt I have a choice. I’m rather certain the powers-that-be wouldn’t condone you sleeping over.”

  He leaned against the doorframe. “I’m willing to take my chances, and I don’t mind sleeping on the floor one tiny bit.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his blatant flirtations, and the heat in my blushing cheeks scorched my skin. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  His gaze drifted to my lips, then back up to my eyes, and he smiled.

  I lingered for a moment before going inside my room. I wondered if he was going to try and kiss me. As much as I liked him, I wasn’t really ready for something so bold—at least not yet. When he looked into my eyes, I quickly averted my dumbfounded smile at the ground, and my legs began to shake. When it came to Hunter, all those songs I’d heard about people going weak in the knees suddenly made sense.

  “Goodnight, Zoey,” he said.

  “Goodnight, Hunter,” I managed to squeak, my stomach in a tangled mess of knots.

  “I’ll meet you tomorrow by the fountain before class. Maybe we can take a walk.”

  I smiled, nervously tossing my hair to the side. “I’d love that.”

  “Good. Text me then,” he said, punching his number into my phone. “And goodnight again.” He shot me one last smile, then turned to walk away.

  I shut the door and finally exhaled, grinning. Wow. He walked me to my room, and we just exchanged phone numbers. How cool is that? Yes, I was seventeen, but something about that boy had me acting like I’d been shot by Cupid’s arrow. No one as hot as Hunter had ever given me the time of day, and I couldn’t help but stand there with my back against the door for a moment, clutching my beating heart and beaming from ear to ear.