35. Aurora
Aurora
I sat next to Jade in a seat of fake blue leather, ready to leave New York City for Cork. There was no describing the weight on my chest, and I had hoped having a few hours of solitude in the air would help, but it had been just the opposite. Images of Mac’s betrayal consumed my thoughts, followed by Amara lying in her casket, the lid being closed after Lyra and I had given her a last kiss. I shut my eyes and laid my head on the headrest with a sigh, willing them to stop but failing as we chased our only hope left for finding the Cure—Conall having remained where I knew how to find him.
“What are you thinking?” Jade asked, her voice soft. She handed me a bottle of juice.
I took a sip of the sweet liquid, feeling it roll down my throat, creating a cool path as it hit my belly. I shook my head, more memories flooding back. The last time I was on a plane was with Mac. My question about why the O’Cillian knot was on the plane now seemed ridiculous, the entire argument ludicrous. And I had just accepted the explanations like a love-struck, simpering teenage girl taken by the hottest guy in school. I clenched my jaw, annoyed by my naivety. All at once, it felt like the responsibility of the world weighed on my shoulders.
“Hey, Rory.”
I turned my head without raising it from the seat. Jade’s eyes shone, glistening with tears she struggled to hold back.
“What is it?” I asked, concern lacing my voice as I shot up to sitting, and my hand flew to my pendant. My heart clenched as I felt both the High Priestess and the Heir pendant hanging together. It would take a long time to get used to it being there.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered, her forehead creased as she struggled to look me in the eye.
I tilted my head. “You might have to be a little more specific than that. What in the world are you sorry for?”
“I didn’t want to be part of the spell to find Mac’s family. When Amara came to my mother and me, I originally told her no.”
My eyes widened. “You told your High Priestess no?”
Jade nodded, a small, guilty smile playing on her lips. “It didn’t go over very well.”
I raised my brows, and a warmth filled my chest at her defense of me. “I can imagine.” The thought of someone defying Amara like that felt almost incomprehensible.
“I didn’t want to betray you, Rory. And I didn’t want to betray Mac because I know how much you love him.”
I nodded, urging her to continue. “So why did you do it, then?”
Jade shrugged. “My mother and I talked, and we realized that if we were there, we had a chance to protect you, to know exactly what was happening, and to help when it was all over.”
My shoulders relaxed, and a smile played on the corner of my lips, our friendship rooting itself again in my heart. I took her hand. “That makes a twisted kind of sense.”
Jade’s eyes searched mine. “So you forgive me?”
I squeezed her hand. “Jade, I already had. I know you didn’t want to be part of this. I know you would never hurt me. Everything happened for a reason. We just need to figure out what it is.”
Jade leaned forward, hugging me close. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you as a friend.”
I pulled back, still holding her hand. “You won’t lose me.”
Jade shifted, curling her legs up and somehow smashing herself into the tiny airplane seat in a way that I couldn’t believe was comfortable. She wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her chin on her knees, and looked at me.
“So... tell me about him.”
I raised an eyebrow. “About Mac?”
“Yeah. Tell me about Cormac O’Cillian. Your Cormac O’Cillian, not the stories we’ve heard.”
I took a deep breath, my cheeks warming as I remembered the whisper of Mac’s lips on mine, his hands tracing familiar paths along my skin. It felt real, but that was the problem. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure who Mac was anymore. How much of him was real, and how much was a carefully constructed shield to protect himself—and, maybe, me?
Our conversations played like echoes in my mind, the way he spoke about the weight of family, the depth of his feelings. They stood in stark contrast to the blood-soaked tales of the O’Cillians, merciless vampires who spilled blood without hesitation. Could those two versions of him exist in the same man? Or was I fooling myself, blinded by how he made me feel? I wanted to believe in the Cormac I thought I knew, but—
A sudden wave of panic gripped me. “What if he staged everything? What if we haven’t heard from him because he ran?” My voice wavered, betraying the fear I’d tried to suppress.
Jade shook her head, her eyes soft. “I saw how he looked at you when they pulled him away. He was fighting.” Her words should have reassured me, but they didn’t, as a hint of doubt crept into my mind. Had I misread everything? Was I so lost in my feelings for him I couldn’t see the truth?
“Maybe he’s just an excellent actor,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jade’s expression softened further. “Did he ever actually lie to you?”
The question hung between us. I opened my mouth to answer, but the truth lodged in my throat. Had he lied? He’d evaded and skirted around specific topics, but had he ever looked me in the eye and said something that wasn’t true?
I wasn’t sure. And that uncertainty unnerved me more than anything else. “By omission, yes. But I don’t think he ever outright lied. He answered questions, but only just enough. And he never told me he was an O’Cillian.”
“If you had known, would you have gone with him?”
“No.” I almost laughed at her question. “Of course not.”
“Don’t you think that might have something to do with why he didn’t tell you?” Jade’s voice was soft, but it struck a nerve.
I shrugged, trying to keep my tone casual. “Maybe. Their family doesn’t exactly have the best reputation.” I let out a hollow laugh. “The most terrifying part is that Mac’s just as lost as the rest of us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s so invested in finding the Cure. When Isla showed us the grimoire, he was the one who let it go with Lyra. Deep down, it was like he knew that without the coven, he’d never find the Cure.”
Jade smiled, a hint of admiration in her eyes. “We didn’t even know it was missing.”
“Exactly. Without him, we’d have only had the lineage and no idea where to look.” As I spoke, I felt the weight of my doubts lifted, piece by piece. I had never wanted to trust a vampire, but somewhere along the way, that had changed. And more than anything, I wanted to find him. No, I needed to.
A surge of resolve rippled through me. I would find him, no matter what dangers or secrets lurked in the shadows ahead, and I knew the truth. We settled back as the plane taxied. I shifted in the tiny seat, the stiff pleather rubbing and poking against my skin. Eventually, I rested my head on Jade’s shoulder. It would be a long flight, but I knew that when we landed, we’d be one step closer to the manor—and Mac.
Several hours later, I woke to find a blanket draped over me and a pillow beneath my head. I blinked, adjusting to the dim cabin light, and realized I was asleep against the window. I’d been far more comfortable in Mac’s bed on his plane.
The memory of that luxurious warmth—the safety from the silk sheets and whispered promises—gave way to a world distant and dangerous. I sighed, a flicker of guilt surging up my back for longing for something associated with him, especially when everything between us was shrouded in uncertainty.
Most passengers around me were awake, some reading, others preparing for landing. Sitting next to me, Jade had a book open in front of her, but she closed it as soon as she noticed I was awake. “Well, look who finally woke up. Do you feel any better?” she asked.
I rubbed my face, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. “Yeah, I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
“They’re about to come around to collect everything before we land,” she said. “I was going to wake you in a minute, anyway.”
“That was a good nap, then.” I smiled at her.
Jade grinned back. “There may have been a little magic involved.”
I laughed. “You spelled me?” I thought back to the juice she had given me at the start of the flight and shook my head. “You aren’t supposed to spell your High Priestess,” I said, the sarcasm dripping from my tongue.
She shrugged. “You needed it. So much has happened; this was the only time you could clear your head and rest. I know Amara’s funeral was hard for you. And I’m sure you haven’t slept well since Mac has been gone.”
I squeezed Jade’s hand as I adjusted in my seat. She had stood beside me for so long, supported my every move, and now she was beside me as we rushed headlong into finding Mac. My heart warmed as I realized how much I cherished her being by my side. Would things have turned out differently had Aunt Amara sent Jade after me instead of Lyra?
I shook my head with a smile, knowing that Jade had given me exactly what I needed. “You’re right, but next time, tell me.”
“Would you have taken it if I had?”
“No, probably not,” I admitted, laughing with her.
The fasten seat belt sign illuminated, and the pilot’s voice echoed through the cabin, alerting us to prepare for landing. Jade held my hand as the plane touched down.
We made our way through the airport with our carry-on luggage. We decided not to bring too much in case we couldn’t find Conall and needed to return immediately. We found the car Evangeline had arranged and piled into it.
As we pulled up past the gates of Dún Na Farraige, I looked over the soft green landscape. The sun was setting beside us, painting the sky with reds and purples. Fear crept into my heart. What if Conall wasn’t here?
The driver took us to the public beach just down the road, where we thanked him and exited the car. The scent of the salty water floated over me, raising my heartbeat and calming me all at once, while the crisp wind blew off the water, tossing my hair around my face until I caught it and tied it into a low ponytail. I took a deep breath and set my sights on the manor, stepping onto the rocky beach.
“Worst case”—I smirked—“we can go to the cave and at least be out of the elements for the night.”
Jade smiled. “I’ve heard stories about that cave. I didn’t think our friendship had gone that far.”
We giggled, the nervous sound brittle and out of place against the somber landscape. As we trudged across the beach, the crunch of our footsteps over the sand and stones seemed to echo in the stillness. The rhythmic crashing of the waves offered little comfort, their soothing lull now overshadowed by the need to find Conall.
We finally reached the moss-covered stone steps, picking our way along them through the cliffside. When we reached the top, I pounded on the door. The woman with ash-blond hair walked along the beach toward us, the same one whom I had seen just after Mac and I made love in the cave. Had she been following Jade and me?
The woman reached the base of the stairs, her gaze calm and unsettling as it swept over us. “Looking for the O’Cillians?” she asked, her voice soft and bell-like, almost too soothing for the tension crackling in the air.
I stared at her, suspicion coiling in my gut. “I need to speak to Conall. Do you know where he is?”
She shook her head as she studied me, her pale hair catching the faint light. “I haven’t seen him for a few days. Then again, I’m not always here.” Her words drifted in the air like a lure, too casual, too indifferent.
My mind raced. Could I trust her? There was something off in how she lingered, something calculated in how her gaze never quite broke from mine. Why had Mac glanced at her that night on the beach?
She took another step closer, placing her foot on the bottom stair. Her presence felt invasive, like the slow advance of a predator deciding when to strike. My pulse quickened. “Unless you can get us inside, I don’t need to talk with you. I just need to find Conall.”
She tilted her head, studying us as if weighing her options. “If they don’t know you’re here, you’re trespassers.”
Her words triggered a memory—Mac’s voice warning me about trespassers and the dangers of approaching the O’Cillian home uninvited. I narrowed my eyes, my mind whirling. How much did she know? And what part had she played?
“I am the High Priestess of the Coven of the Blood,” I said, my voice sharp and cold, a layer of power surging beneath the words. “What do you want with me?”
The woman’s eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name, but her foot withdrew from the step as if my words had drawn an invisible line she wouldn’t cross. A chill settled over the moment, an understanding, perhaps. “I see,” she said, her voice quieter but no less unsettling.
The door behind me creaked open, and Conall stood in the entrance. His hair was neatly combed, and the soft scent of soap clung to him. A grin broke out across his face, but it faded into concern as his eyes darted from me to the empty space beside me—where Mac should have been.
“Rory, what are you doing here?” His gaze flicked from me to the woman standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Runa.”
“You know the agreement, Conall,” Runa said, her voice like ice. “These two are trespassers.”
“They’re invited,” Conall replied, stepping aside to let Jade and me pass.
Just before I stepped across the threshold, my gaze locked with Runa’s. So this was the Dearg Dur. Her eyes glimmered with something dark and unreadable. Was it a warning or recognition? My heart skipped a beat, a flicker of unease curling into my stomach. The moment between us sent a chill through me as Conall ushered us in and closed the door behind us.
“What was that all about?” Jade asked, her eyes still wide with lingering fear.
I shook my head, trying to push the unsettling feeling aside. “It’s a story for another time.”
I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, but I needed to focus Conall’s attention on the one thing that mattered: Mac. I turned to him, locking onto his eyes. “Have you heard from Mac lately?”
Conall’s face fell, and my stomach tightened. “I thought he was with you.” His eyes widened in shock. Then he masked it in an instant, forcing an expression of indifference. “But my friends don’t always have to update me on their whereabouts.”
Ice ran through my veins. My breath faltered. “Nor your brothers?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady. It wasn’t an act; he had been abducted. My body tensed, and a cold rush of fear crept through me.
Conall’s face darkened, his calm exterior cracking. “Maybe we should go upstairs.”
He guided us up the oak staircase, through the morning room, and into the solarium. Jade’s eyes widened as she took in the manor’s grandeur. But all I could feel was the oppressive weight of the moment pressing down on me.
The solarium was breathtaking, the last vestiges of the sunlight creating dramatic lines of color over the harbor. The whitecaps on the waves in front of the rocky shore created an idyllic setting, more suited for a painting than the backdrop for this conversation. The beauty of the space clashed with the icy dread curling in my chest. It was a cruel irony—this place, so full of light, while we were about to discuss something shrouded in darkness.
Conall gestured for us to sit. We sank into the sofas, but I could barely feel the softness beneath me.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Conall’s voice was tight, strained—an attempt to hold the moment together before it unraveled.
I shook my head. “Your brother.”
Conall sighed, pouring himself a drink from a small drink cart in the corner. He took a slow sip before facing me again. His eyes traveled between Jade and me as he paced behind the couch. I toyed with the pendants, both hanging together around my neck. He clenched his jaw and spoke. “Cormac finally broke.”
I shook my head. “I found out after my aunt attacked him, but then he disappeared.”
Conall froze and focused on my hand. The truth was laid bare in the space between us, heavy and impossible to ignore. A twist of dread tightened in my chest as I saw the flash of recognition in his eyes.
“My condolences on your loss,” Conall said at last, though his voice was distant. His sharp eyes narrowed as if turning over a thought. “It wasn’t Mac, was it?”
I swallowed, a tremor of panic rippling beneath my skin. “No,” I whispered. “Mac had nothing to do with it. My aunt had created a spell based on the one to find the Cure as a guide. She used it to prove to me he’s one of you—an O’Cillian.” My voice faltered. “But she never finished the ritual. Vampires attacked us before she could.”
Conall stiffened, his jaw clenched, and his gaze sharpened. I saw something darker flicker behind his eyes. Something dangerous.
“One of them killed her. Right in front of me,” I finished, the memory too vivid, the sting of grief fresh. My fingers curled into fists, the edge of the High Priestess pendant biting into my palm. Conall’s silence pressed in on me, a judgment unspoken but heavy.
“What did he look like?” Conall asked, his voice sharp.
I furrowed my brow. “Why does that matter?”
Conall’s gaze hardened. “Tell me. What color was his hair?”
“Black, with red streaks at the ends. Why does it matter?” I cried, my voice rising.
Conall’s face softened, but a shadow crossed over his features. “It wasn’t Aiden.”
My heart lurched as his name settled into the silence between us. My pulse quickened, fear flooding through my veins, making my hands twitch before I regained control. Aiden—the second youngest O’Cillian brother. Was he the one in Charleston?
“Aiden?” I whispered, my heart hammering in my chest. I could feel the gravity of the situation sinking in deeper, like a dark weight pressing down on the room.
Jade, silent until now, finally spoke, her voice breaking through the tension. “Why would Aiden be after Mac and not the coven?” Her confusion mirrored my own, her brows furrowing as she looked between us.
Conall’s head shook as if he were reluctant to answer or uncertain himself. “I don’t know, but it would make sense if he were after Cormac if he knows about the Cure.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow around me. Aiden. The Cure. Mac wasn’t just another brother in this war. He was the one searching for the enemy—one that Aiden might destroy. I could see how the pieces fit together now, and with that came the terrifying realization: we were all trapped in something far more significant, far deadlier than I’d imagined.
“Aiden’s not just after Mac,” I breathed, the truth slipping out as my thoughts raced. “He’s after everything. The family, the Cure—anyone in his way. He’s the unkillable vampire, the one who took over Charleston, isn’t he?”
Conall’s eyes closed, the confirmation unnecessary. The room fell into a tense silence, and I could feel our shared fear settling like a heavy fog. We weren’t just in danger. We were standing at the edge of something much darker. And Aiden was the shadow moving behind it all.
A vague movement from the doorway beside Conall startled me, grabbing my attention. Conall froze in place, staring at Mac as he paused before walking through the door. His black suit hung neatly from his shoulders, his hair perfectly combed. Not a scratch or mark on him, nothing out of place. My pulse raced even faster, my mouth falling open in relief as my mind processed he was standing here. I wanted to throw myself into his arms, but my jaw clenched, and my feet refused to move. How was this possible?
“Yes, our brother Aiden is the vampire you are seeking.” Mac’s soft voice and his presence filled the air, but it wasn’t comforting. He stood next to Conall, his gaze on me. “Aurora, I cannot convey the depths of my sorrow for everything my family has put you through. When I got back to Oak Leaf Hallow, Valentina told me you had come here. I got here as fast as I could.”
I looked down, unable to meet his gaze. On the flight to Ireland, I thought I had been ready to see him and forgive him, but now that he was here, acting as though nothing happened, fury gripped my insides. Had he just stepped off the plane we had traveled on together when he asked me to share my most intimate desires with him? He wanted the most vulnerable parts of me but couldn’t even be honest with me about his family. I knew he was a vampire and confronted that danger, anyway. How could I forgive him?
“How could you not tell me?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Mac’s face crumpled, guilt flashing across his features. “I didn’t mean—”
I stood abruptly. “I don’t know who you are anymore.” The relief that had filled the room when Mac first walked in now suffocated me. How was he even here? My heart pounded in my chest as my rage grew, making it hard to breathe. I didn’t care who was staring at me. All I could think about was how much had changed.
Without another word, I turned and stormed from the room. I heard Jade grab our bags and follow, her footsteps close behind, but I didn’t stop. Mac’s frustrated voice called after me, echoing through the cavernous space. “Aurora, wait! Please, just listen—”
But I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. I needed to get away, to think, to breathe. A cool draft hit me when I stepped into the grand hall. I drew a long breath over my lips, my chest heaving as if I’d refused to breathe for far too long. The tension inside the solarium still clung to my skin, but as I became the one to walk away, I could finally feel the tightness in my chest loosen.
My thoughts were racing, crashing into one another like waves against jagged rocks. Where had he been?
I kept walking across the hall, toward the stairs, toward solitude. “Aurora…” Jade’s voice was soft as she followed, her concern clear in every syllable. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, unable to form the words, my throat tight with emotion. I wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.