34. Aurora
Aurora
F or days, my tears had fallen, but now those tears I couldn’t shed caused the world around me to blur. I stood in the center of the clearing alone, though hundreds who had come out to grieve Amara’s passing focused on me. I kept my eyes on the candles at the edge of the clearing. Their dim light flickered in the setting sun, which threw reds and oranges across the sky. It was a beauty I couldn’t feel, grief numbing me.
Even the trees surrounding the clearing appeared to mourn, their branches hanging low. I had blessed the circle earlier, my voice firm as I wove protection spells into the perimeter. It was an act of vigilance that I could not afford to skip. Yet again, I cursed that Aunt Amara hadn’t done the same before performing the spell that had led to her death.
Why hadn’t she protected herself? I clenched my fists, trying to stave off the rising anger. In the aftermath, Willow explained how she had begged Amara to cast a perimeter, but Amara refused. The location spell had needed to be open, uncontained, and free to reach beyond any barriers we could set. And now she was gone because of it.
I blinked again; the tears refused to fall as I scanned the crowd. To them, she was a loved and respected member of the community. My eyes fell upon the coven, kneeling around her casket. To us, she was the High Priestess Regent—our guide and our strength.
My heart ripped as I tried not to think. Amara had been a mother when mine passed before she expected, a mentor in a world where the legacy often felt too heavy to carry. And now she was gone. I was alone. In front of me, Aunt Amara’s oak casket, hewn from a tree from the plantation, lay still. Candlelight from the altar flickered over the polished wood in a strange, eerie dance as if some trace of life remained within.
Every word I had spoken today as part of the ceremony felt like a thread connecting me to the women who had come before me—a legacy that I hadn’t fully embraced, but now I had no choice but to carry it. “I call upon the spirits of the ancestors,” I began, my voice unwavering despite the knot in my chest. “Guide Amara Silverstorm to your side. Protect her in death as she protected us in life. May her journey be peaceful, and may her spirit find rest as she continues to guide us from the other side.”
The words were ancient and passed down through generations. I was just days old when Amara spoke the words for my mother, and I now said them for her, although I have heard them since. Together, the voices of my sister witches mingled with mine as we whispered the ending lines in unison, each word sending Amara to the land of our ancestors.
Lyra kneeled at the foot of her mother’s casket, her shoulders shaking with unrelenting sobs. I took a step toward her, my hands trembling, but as I did, Valentina moved to Lyra’s side, laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Lyra,” Valentina whispered. “We must carry her now.”
Lyra shook her head, pressing her forehead against the wood of the casket, her fingers clutching at the edges as if holding on for dear life. “Please,” she breathed. “Not yet.”
I wanted to go to her, tell her I understood, and tell her I didn’t want to let go either, but I knew I couldn’t delay what needed to be done. The ceremony was nearing its end, and Amara had to be laid to rest. The coven couldn’t wait on my grief.
Valentina stood, her eyes meeting mine for a moment before she returned her attention to Lyra. “It’s time,” she whispered, laying her fingers on Lyra’s shoulder.
Lyra nodded, the movement barely perceptible, and with trembling hands, she stood. I watched her take a step back, her face pale and streaked with tears, as Valentina and the others took their positions around the casket.
The air felt thick as they lifted their burden, walking with it toward the edge of the clearing. It was a short walk to the plantation’s cemetery, with a mausoleum as the final resting place for our family. A rustle sounded behind me as everyone stood to see us off. Only the coven would journey with Amara to the end. I felt my breath catch as I followed across the soft grass.
The mausoleum came into view, cold and unyielding. My mother and grandmother rested there, and now, so would Amara. The door stood open, beckoning us into the candlelit interior. As we marched toward it, a knot of uncertainty formed in my chest.
I followed my sister witches through the threshold, Amara’s coffin between us. I was the last one in and, in silence, closed the heavy door behind me. Tears streamed down my face as I stood confronted by the tombs of my mother and grandmother. The blank slab above my mother screamed at me—all too soon, my final destination if I didn’t break my curse. Amara’s crypt beside my grandmother, opposite my mother, was open, and the marble face lay to the side, waiting.
I gazed at the flowers arranged on top of the casket—Amara’s favorites—magnolias mixed with lavender. Amara’s pendant, the symbol of her power, was draped among the highest. Valentina, who had walked alongside my aunt on her journey, retrieved it, her hands trembling in reverence.
The crone placed a tender hand on Lyra’s shoulder, guiding her aside. “Please, Mama, no,” Lyra whimpered, her voice breaking. Valentina grasped her fingers, giving her the comfort she needed, though nothing could ease the grief as Valentina gave a slight nod to the coven.
Jade and Ruby stepped forward, standing nearest to the crypt. Together, they raised the foot of the coffin with tender precision and guided it into the crypt as though entrusting a sacred memory to eternity’s embrace before stepping aside. Two by two, the remaining witches stepped forward, each giving a final push, ensuring Amara’s coffin rested in its rightful place. The slab was then hoisted back onto the tomb, sealing it with a weight that matched the one in my chest.
Lyra’s shoulders shook as her sobs intensified, and I struggled to hold myself together. It was all I could do not to break down in front of everyone. I had to remain composed—to be the High Priestess. But the truth was, I didn’t know how to face this. I felt incomplete, and I wasn’t sure I ever would be complete again. A sob caught in my throat, and I bit down hard to keep it from escaping.
Valentina approached me. Without a word, she placed Amara’s pendant around my neck. She bowed her head in silent respect and stepped back to join the witches. They recited the closing words of the ceremony. I joined them, my voice steady, but my heart shattered. “May her spirit find peace, and may the love she gave return to her, now and forever.”
A stillness engulfed the room as the last words faded into the air. I stood rooted in place as Valentina shuffled forward and the coven recessed. In an echo of the ritual that had started this journey, each woman offered a silent nod or a soft touch as they filed past. The pendant, the tangible sign of my role, burned against my chest as the last witch left.
I turned to the marble wall, my eyes locked on my mother’s crypt. My heart ached for Mac in ways I hadn’t acknowledged until now. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had something to do with Amara’s death, but I pushed the thought aside. I wanted him to be beside me.
I stepped forward and traced my mother’s name and death date etched in the marble. Her death date was my birth date.
“Mama, how am I going to handle this?” I whispered.
“ With grace and love, ” replied her voice. “ Follow your heart. ”
I hung my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. It felt like the only advice I had gotten as of late, and it only led to pain and sorrow. I moved candles to sit below the crypts of my aunt, mother, and grandmother. Knowing they were together in the land of my ancestors gave me a glimmer of peace. I thanked the remaining candles for their light before snuffing them out and walking into the night.
I breathed deeply. The air was cooler here than in the mausoleum. I lingered, my eyes fixed on the heavy bronze doors. The world spun around me. Mac and Amara were gone. Would I ever find him—or would I have to face this life and responsibility without him by my side? I was supposed to be strong and lead with confidence, but all I could feel was the overwhelming uncertainty of it all.
“Where are you, Mac?” I whispered, my voice lost in the wind. There was no answer, only the quiet rustle of leaves in the trees and the weight of the mantle I now wore pressing heavier on my shoulders.
When I reached the clearing, it was empty. The guests had all gone to the barn, where a celebration of Amara’s life was underway. Soft strains of music floated through the air along with the rich, smoky aroma of the meats that made my stomach growl. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten as my mouth watered, but my throat constricted as though my body would deny me any food at all, my grief overwhelming.
I followed the path ending at the old wooden building and joined the maidens in the bridal suite to change out of my robes. A heavy silence filled the room as we moved about, none of us wanting to acknowledge the gaping hole Amara’s death had left behind. I sat on the blue chaise lounge, my head in my hands, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside me.
After changing, Ruby approached me. “High Priestess, are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.
I looked up at her and shook my head. “You don’t have to call me that all the time,” I replied, trying to muster a smile.
She returned my smile, albeit faintly. “But it’s who you are now.”
I nodded even though I still wasn’t used to it. “I know, but it’s not who I was supposed to be. Not yet.”
Ruby bowed her head and left the room, leaving me alone with Jade and Lyra. I glanced at Lyra, and my breath caught in my throat, the sobs I had been holding back all day aching to be released.
Lyra’s eyes met mine, and they were full of fury. “This is your fault, you know that,” she hissed.
I shook my head, trying to calm the growing tension, wiping at my eyes. “Lyra, please, not now.”
“Not now? When, then? Or not ever?” she spat, throwing her bag onto the chaise. “If you hadn’t brought that vampire into our lives, my mother would still be here! You’re the one who did this.”
Jade stepped forward, trying to defuse the situation. “Lyra, stop. It’s not Rory’s fault. We could have been attacked at any time.”
“Of course, you’d defend her,” Lyra snapped, turning on Jade. “You never cared about my mother. All you’ve ever cared about is sucking up to Rory.”
“Lyra, that’s enough!” My voice was tight, and all I wanted to do was grieve my aunt in peace.
Lyra turned back to me, her eyes flashing with anger. “You’re going to keep that second pendant, aren’t you? Because you’ve never trusted me, you’ve never wanted me at your side.”
I stared at her, stunned by her words. “What are you talking about?”
“The High Priestess Heir,” she said coldly. “You’re not going to make me your heir, are you?”
“Why would I?” I asked, exasperated. “My heir should be my daughter. I haven’t even thought about naming someone else.”
“Of course you haven’t,” Lyra sneered. “You’ll probably abandon the coven and our charge before my mother’s soul ever figures out where it is! Do you think your vampire lover is going to just turn back up and provide you with an heir? Like it is so simple.”
I shook my head as my chest tightened. “We don’t even know where he is. But if I ever find him—”
Lyra laughed, a bitter sound. “You would really consider making a witch with vampire blood the leader of this coven?”
“I’m not having this conversation right now,” I said, dropping my head into my hands.
“And what about my home?” Lyra’s voice was sharp. “Are you going to take that from me too, just like you took my mother?”
“I didn’t take your mother from you!” I snapped, the pain of her accusations cutting deep. “I didn’t attack her, and I’m sorry this happened, but there was nothing I could have done. If you hadn’t stolen the grimoire to begin with maybe the vampires wouldn’t have attacked. It had been years since they have dared attack us here.”
“Next time, don’t lead them straight to us,” Lyra growled, grabbing her bag and storming out.
I turned to Jade, exhausted. “Do I really have to let her stay in the house?” I asked, my voice laced with a defeated chuckle.
Jade sat down beside me and took my hand. “Do you really think she’ll want to stay there?”
I shrugged, fighting back another wave of tears. “Maybe not. But she’ll probably make it my fault if she leaves. What am I going to do, Jade? How am I supposed to handle this? I was supposed to have more time with Amara. I was supposed to learn from her.” I lowered my head to her shoulder. “And now I don’t even have him.”
“We’ll find him,” she whispered.
“But how? We don’t even know who took him or where they went. How are we supposed to find him?”
Jade shook her head, thinking. “You were dowsing when you found him in the first place, right?”
I nodded before dropping my forehead into my hand, my elbow propped on my knee. “But I was searching for the Cure, not an O’Cillian vampire. Amara said something was blocking our magic from finding them, and she’s right. Up until a few days ago, I couldn’t see the O’Cillian crest. It wasn’t until I drew it that I could see it.”
Jade’s eyes grew wide. “Do you think that is why we haven’t been able to find this vampire or even figure out his name? Do you think he is an O’Cillian?”
I raised my eyes to hers. “Their friend Declan mentioned one brother, Aiden. Mac shut down the conversation about him before it ever started.”
Jade’s face fell. “Then how do we find him? We know he’s in Charleston, but going there would be suicide.”
“Conall,” I muttered under my breath.
“What?”
“Conall. He and Mac were trying to stop the vampire. It’s why Mac wanted to find the Cure. Maybe Conall will help us, if only to find Mac.”
Jade smiled. “It’s worth a try. And besides, we need to find out what Amara meant when she mentioned the essence of the O’Cillians being connected to the Cure.”
I sighed, feeling the weight in the constricting of my throat. “I still don’t understand that part. Why would it take a vampire to find the very thing hidden from the vampire?”
Jade shrugged. “But hidden from us too. And we’re supposed to be protecting him. Do you think there is more in the grimoire?”
My shoulders sagged. “The grimoire… I’ll have to find it.”
Jade’s eyes perked up. “It’s not that hard. Amara left it in the mothers’ room.”
I sighed again, knowing that even though Amara was gone, her secrets—and the answers I needed—still lingered in the shadows, waiting for me to uncover them.
Jade and I walked to the mothers’ room and knocked.
“Come in.” The voice belonged to Evangeline.
“Hey, Mom,” said Jade as we walked in. The room was smaller than the bridal suite but otherwise almost identical, a place for the mothers of the bride and groom to freshen up and change. “What are you doing in here? Why aren’t you in the library?”
“I just needed to lie down for a minute,” she said, rising to a seat. Evangeline’s eyes were red and swollen from her tears.
She stood from the chaise she was in and crossed the room, reaching out to take my hand. “Rory, there’s one piece of business we have to attend to that I want to tell you about, but we can handle it later.”
I nodded, silently encouraging her to continue.
“When your aunt died, I became the executor of your trust. The terms are the same as those under Amara. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
She gave my hand a squeeze. “Now, I’m sure that isn’t why you came in here. What can I do?”
“We were looking for the grimoire,” I said.
Evangeline pressed her mouth into a thin line. “That makes sense. You are the only one who can open it now, but it isn’t in here. She put it in the library.”
A smile crept to my lips. “What better place?”
“Let’s go find it.” Evangeline forced a smile.
Together, the three of us walked down the hall to the groom’s library.
Scarlett’s voice floated through the door. “No, you can’t take it.”
“And why not?” hissed Lyra. “The only thing Aurora is going to do is give it back to the vampires and watch this coven burn.”
“The High Priestess is the only one who can open it. It wouldn’t matter if I gave it to you or not.”
“Why is everyone always protecting her? Can’t you see she’s going to destroy us? She’s going to allow those monsters to continue to live. The balance will be destroyed.”
Evangeline pushed the door open. Scarlett stood toe-to-toe with Lyra, clutching the grimoire to her chest. Relief visibly washed over her when she saw the three of us.
“I’ll take that for the High Priestess,” said Evangeline, walking directly to Scarlett and taking the book. Scarlett nodded.
“Why are you all doing this?” screeched Lyra. “I can’t believe you would follow her!” She stormed out of the room and out the back, the door slamming closed behind her as she stalked into the darkness.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” asked Scarlett, her eyes gazing in the direction Lyra went.
Evangeline nodded. “I think she will. It will just take her some time.”
Valentina walked into the room, leaning on her cane. “She’s lost too much, too fast. It’s understandable that she’s lost her way.”
I looked out the door, wishing for the cousin of my youth—when we would play in the gardens together, taking turns with Jade on who would be “it” during a game of hide-and-seek. Nothing would be the same again; her mother was no longer here to guide us both.
“What did I interrupt?” asked Valentina, raising an eyebrow.
I smiled at her as she shuffled to a chair. “We just came in to get the grimoire. We need to figure out what our next step is.”
Valentina nodded. “That is what Amara would want. What is your heart telling you to do?”
Scarlett smiled. “That is an excellent question.”
I shook my head. Why was everyone telling me to follow my heart? Was it fair that my heart was screaming I needed to find Mac? Not Mac—Cormac O’Cillian. My soul was filled with fear after not hearing from him. Where was he? I lowered my voice. “Is it horrible that my heart is telling me to find Mac?”
Evangeline shook her head. “Your greatest gift will be your ability to listen to your intuition and follow it. If your heart is telling you to find Mac, there is a reason. Just as there is a reason you fell in love with him.”
I shot glances at the other two crones, who smiled at Evangeline’s comment. “You are all fine with your High Priestess loving a vampire?”
Valentina looked at me, compassion in her eyes. “There is a reason—something bigger than any of us—at play here. Amara knew it, and we promised to help you see it through.”
The truth of her words settled over me like a cloak, heavy but comforting. I had to follow my heart. It was the only thing that would guide me. I took a deep breath and nodded. “I know what I have to do next.”
Jade jumped in with our earlier thought. “We need to go to Conall O’Cillian in Waterford. We need more O’Cillian blood to find Mac, and we need to understand the spell to find the Cure.”
I could feel the unease ripple through the group. My stomach twisted at the idea of facing Conall again, of asking him to give more than he’d already sacrificed—his brother. But Jade was right. We didn’t have time to be delicate about this.
My voice was firmer now. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Jade and I will go to the manor. I’ll try to talk to Conall, but we have to be prepared for him not to be there. Or for him to refuse.”
Valentina knit her brows together, always the cautious one. “Do you really think an O’Cillian will help?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to steady the nerves that threatened to overwhelm me. “There is nothing we can do without him. And I need to know the truth about Cormac. How much of our relationship was a show?”
Valentina gave a slow, approving nod. “Then it’s settled. You’ll leave tomorrow. We’ll handle the coven—and Lyra. May the ancestors guide you both.”
The others nodded as Evangeline handed me the grimoire. I clutched it to my chest. “The two of you should go to the dinner but get home early. I’ll make the flight arrangements for you.”
I nodded and looked at Jade. She took my hand and led me along the familiar path back to the bridal suite, where I put the book into my bag. Together, we started the walk upstairs. The din of people talking floated down the stairs as I halted at the bottom, turning to my friend.
“Do you think we’ll find him?” I asked, my voice low, uncertainty creeping into my words.
Jade shrugged, her confidence unwavering. “I think we’ll find what we need, one way or another.”
I nodded, but my thoughts were still tangled with doubt. The last light of the day had faded into darkness, and with it, any hope of simple answers. Tomorrow, we would go to Conall. But even as the plan solidified in my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same.