Aurora
After shooting my father, I collapse to my knees. My fingers release the gun and shake in violent, uncontrollable tremors. My father chokes on his own blood as life drains drop by drop from his face. The pain is unbearable, but inside, there’s not a shadow of doubt. Only emptiness.
He stumbles close and drops down beside me, swaying. He cups my face, turning it toward him and blocking my view of Arthur’s convulsing body. I see only my husband’s dark eyes. Now there’s as much darkness in me as there is in him.
“You believed me?” His voice is wrecked, his throat mangled by the garrote. “Me …, not him?”
“You’re the only one who’s never lied to me,” I whisper. Tears burn my cheeks, leaving salty trails.
“The tea …? You didn’t drink it?” He searches my face.
“You told me not to …,” I sob, realizing that even in the peak of my fury and hurt, I obeyed him. “I only pretended.”
Relief flashes in his gaze.
“My good girl …” He presses his forehead to mine, showering my cheeks and temples with quick, hot kisses.
I close my eyes, soaking in his warmth.
Desire stands and, grabbing me under the arms, yanks me to my feet. “Come on. We need to go, Aurora.”
“I killed my father …” The words lodge in my throat, heavy as lead.
He snatches the velvet box from the table. “Look at this. See the inscription? ‘To my princess.’ It was meant for you. Inside was a garrote, Rory. He was going to strangle you with that cord.”
I stare at the box, and horror washes over me in a new wave. My hand goes to my stomach, covering it.
“He would have killed my baby …” My whisper cracks. “I couldn’t let him do that. To any of us.”
There’s no remorse in me, no horror, no desire to turn back time. Only an icy, ringing clarity.
Knowing I did the right thing, pulses through me with each heartbeat.
I’d shoot again. And again. Watching the body at our feet grow still, I realize I didn’t kill my father.
I killed a monster who wanted to take not just my life, but the lives of our future family.
The lives of all the children Desire and I will have.
If the price of our freedom is blood on my hands, I’ll wear it like jewelry.
I chose the man who protected me over the one who wanted to destroy me.
“You did everything right. Come on.” Desire puts his arm around my shoulders, guiding me through the hallway and helping me down the stairs.
He settles me into an armchair in the living room. I feel like a rag doll. “Sit here for a bit.”
“No!” I grab his sleeve, my fingers cramping. “I want to fly away … far away. Just the two of us …, the three of us.” I stroke my stomach with my other hand. “No one else.”
“Of course, we’ll fly away.” Desire nods, stroking my face. “Just give me ten minutes, okay? I need to erase our tracks and check the cameras, outside and inside.”
“Cameras?” I look up in fear.
“They should be off, but I need to be sure.”
I vaguely realize that my father intended to kill me, which is why he gave the staff the day off. And the cameras …, he probably turned those off too.
I sit in a daze while Desire finishes his work. Soon, he returns, utterly composed. “Let’s go.” He takes my hand, and his palm feels like my only anchor in this crumbling world.
We step outside and get into his car. As he starts the engine, I glance at my rental car sitting alone by the porch.
“The family will pick it up,” Desire says, pulling out of the driveway. “I made the call. They’ll also handle the traffic cameras in the area. According to the records, we were never here. We’re ghosts, Rory. No one will ever hurt you again.”
I nod and lean back in my seat. I look at my husband—his hard profile, the marks of the struggle. Desire is the only person in the universe who will never betray me. And I trust him with my life as easily as I gave him my soul.