Chapter 6 Harbinger
I braced my palms against the cold tiles to keep from dragging her back and burying myself inside her again. Ice-cold water hammered my back, but it wasn’t substantial enough to serve as a distraction.
She was becoming a weakness. Every time she fired back with that sharp tongue or fixed me with those crimson eyes, the beast inside me lost its mind.
I should’ve cut her out of my life the moment I realized what was happening. Before she consumed me completely.
But I needed her.
Her blood, her magic, her quick mind that caught details others missed.
Even things that I missed; I felt oddly proud that she had revised my plans within moments of reviewing them.
And the way she threw herself into danger for my guild, for Phoenix, without a second thought.
She was nothing like I could have imagined.
I stilled under the freezing spray, letting the rush of feelings course through me. Damn it all to hell.
I’d had women before. Plenty of them. But none had ever made me question my sanity.
Aurora fought like she was born for war, yet I’d seen her eyes fill with tears over Phoenix’s stolen voice.
She was brutality and tenderness in the same breath, and somewhere along the way, she’d become essential.
Not just wanted, but needed. And that made her dangerous.
I gritted my teeth, forcing my thoughts away from her and onto the soap in my hand. The lather swirled down the drain, carrying away blood and grime but not the weight of what I’d just promised her.
Had I really vowed exclusivity? To her? It was like some stranger had inhabited my body and spoken those words. I hadn’t made promises like that to anyone, not even before the war had started and tomorrow’s dawn was a sure thing.
But even now, with her scent fading and clear thinking returning, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
The warmth spreading through my chest had nothing to do with lust. Not the electric jolt when our skin touched or the sweet burn of her blood in my veins.
This went deeper. It had crept up on me between arguments and battles.
While I’d been trying to figure out her angles, assess the threat of her magic, she’d been dismantling my walls piece by piece.
I’d watched her fight for my guild like they were her own family.
Seen her rage over injustices that had nothing to do with her.
Witnessed her stubborn refusal to back down even when it meant risking her life.
Somewhere in all that chaos, I’d stopped seeing her as just a powerful ally or a dangerous enemy.
I’d started seeing her.
And I was fucked.
The road ahead would try to kill us both.
First, I’d hunt down my brother, and with Aurora’s abilities, I might actually stand a chance.
Her Blood Manipulation would call to him like a beacon.
Then I’d put the Shepherd in the ground.
Aurora’s power could tip the scales, but I’d be the one to end that bastard.
After that? I’d walk away.
She belonged back in her Republic, wearing the crown she was born for. Making real change instead of bleeding out in the Gloom. Millions relied on her. Keeping her here would destroy everything good in her—or get her killed trying to save me.
I’d already decided. Use her power to free Conin. Kill the Shepherd. Then cut her loose before I dragged her down with me.
It was a simple plan. A clean break.
So why was I already dreading the moment I’d have to watch her leave?
I shut off the water with more force than necessary and combed my fingers through my damp hair. Time to face her questions. She’d earned her answers.
The glass door creaked as I pushed it open and reached for the towel rack. My hand hit bare wall. Right. Laundry day wasn’t until the weekend, and I’d only had one towel.
Which Aurora currently had in her possession.
I turned to ask for a corner of it and stopped dead. Every muscle in my body locked up. Stark naked, she dabbed the towel across her damp skin, chasing water droplets that gleamed in the candlelight. My mouth went dry. My wolf howled, restless and wanting.
I forced my jaw shut before I made an ass of myself.
Narrow waist, elegant spine, shoulders that looked fragile enough to snap under pressure. Pure fucking lie. Beneath that flawless ivory skin lived concentrated death.
Her midnight hair clung to wet shoulders, trailing water down curves that could lure a man right into his grave.
Soft in all the right places, deadly everywhere else.
The gentle dip of her back led to a firm ass, but those slender legs could shatter stone.
And I’d still choose them any day wrapped around my head while I feasted on her.
She bent to towel her calf, and my blood headed south once again.
Fuuuck.
She knew exactly what she was doing to me, and I was falling for every second of it.
I braced my hands against the copper bar above the glass door and stretched my torso just to have something to do with myself other than stare. My cock jutted proudly, and I couldn’t do anything about it.
She straightened to her full height—still eight inches shorter than me—and tilted her head back, devouring me with her eyes.
Firebolts zinged down my spine.
“Eyes over here, Projector,” I drawled, snapping my fingers to break whatever spell had her staring. The heat in her gaze satisfied my wolf, and a smug grin spread across my face.
She blinked hard, like she was snapping out of a trance, just as I reached for the towel.
She jerked it away, clutching the fabric against herself.
I raised an eyebrow and gestured around the bathroom. “My room, my bathroom, my towel. Unless you want to dry me off, hand it over.”
Her pupils dilated for a split second, long enough to show me she wouldn’t have exactly minded that, before her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Keep it,” she snarled, and whipped the towel straight at my head.
She actually growled at me, a low throaty sound that seemed contradictory coming from her slender throat.
I caught it with a laugh, and oh boy, how freeing that was. The flash of annoyance on her face was worth the chill of standing there dripping wet. Aurora had a wildcat’s unpredictability that kept me constantly guessing.
I liked that about her.
“Nice aim,” I said, snapping the towel with a sharp crack just to rile her up. “Though your follow-through needs work.”
“I wasn’t aiming for your hands,” she shot back.
Beaming, I dragged the towel over my hair.
She was fighting so hard not to look below my neck that her jaw muscles were twitching from the strain.
But when I passed the fabric over the slow-healing wound on my chest, her lust shifted to sharp curiosity.
The cut burned like hell, but I kept my expression blank.
Her eyes narrowed. “Why hasn’t it healed?”
I shrugged. “It will. Just needs time.”
I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out. My body had definite ideas about what to do with Aurora naked in my bathroom, and none of them involved conversation. But with her, nothing ever went according to plan.
“It’s the blade, isn’t it?” she asked, cutting through my wandering thoughts. “Something to do with your varcolac blood?”
Too perceptive for her own good. But wrong this time.
I shook my head. “Opposite, actually. My varcolac blood will heal it.”
“But how? We’re both—”
“Immortal?” I cut her off with a bitter laugh.
“Cut off our heads, we still die, princess.” I leaned closer, catching the sweet scent of her hair.
“Set us on fire, cut out our hearts: dead. Unless you’re talking about full-blooded originals, centuries old.
Then beheading’s the only sure bet.” I tried to keep my voice level, but talking about her people always brought out the worst in me.
My wolf was even less forgiving when it came to those leeches.
“Being immortal doesn’t mean invincible.
Ageless? Maybe. Deathless? Not even close. ”
A flash of outrage sparked in her eyes.
Good. I wanted her angry. Anger was safer than whatever else was building between us.
“What about keeping them connected long enough to fry their brains?” she fired back, stepping into my space. Her head tilted back to meet my eyes, face set with stubborn pride.
I scowled. Guilt punched through my gut. The memory of her convulsing on the ground, blood streaming from her nose and eyes, haunted every moment I closed my eyes.
“In Sibiu, when you broke our link,” she continued, jabbing her finger in my flesh, “then again tonight.”
My chest tightened, but she didn’t give me a chance to speak.
“You should know… you’ve broken a few projectors yourself by now.”
She spun away and bolted from the bathroom. I followed, catching her elbow as she grabbed a wool blanket from the chair.
“I didn’t break them,” I growled, desperate for her to understand. “It was the Voices they heard during connection. And I always warned them.”
“Like you did with me?” she hissed, yanking her arm free to wrap the cover around herself. “Giving me that bullshit order in the middle of battle? Projectors died because of you.”
“Only one, and he killed himself!” The words exploded from me before I could stop them. I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that. Every muscle in my body went tight, shoulders hunching like I was bracing for a blow.
Neither of us spoke, our ragged breathing loud in the sudden quiet.
“He stepped into the sun,” she whispered. “Purebloods don’t just throw away their lives.”
I ran a hand through my wet hair, hollow abscesses of guilt spreading through my chest. Her words hit too close to home, ripping open wounds I thought had healed. The memory rushed back. Finding Conin’s body frozen under snow, alone in his final moments, bleeding out with no one to comfort him.
I went still, trying to lock it away again.