24. Aurora
Aurora
W e sat in the back of the car, our hands intertwined, Mac’s thumb tracing my forefinger. Warm, stagnant air hung between us, more likely heavy from unspoken words than anything else. The leather seat creaked as I shifted.
Joshua’s eyes remained fixed on the road. Beside him, Dani stared into the black night. In the trunk, my backpack lay packed again. I was finally headed home this time.
I glanced out the window, the idea of “home” stirring unease in my chest. After speaking with Amara, I wasn’t sure the place I was returning was the same as the one I’d left behind.
Joshua navigated the winding streets with ease. The dim light of Dani’s phone painted faint shadows across the dashboard. The occasional flash of a streetlamp illuminated the deep lines on Mac’s face.
“Sir?” Dani’s hesitant voice broke the quiet.
“Yes, Dani,” Mac spoke just above a whisper.
“I’ve just heard from Paul. The flight is ready. We can depart as soon as we board the plane.”
“Thank you, Dani.”
Mac’s silence had deepened after his walk with Conall. His jaw clenched now, eyes distant. I squeezed his hand, wanting to bring him back to me. He gave me a slight smile, his eyes looking at our joined hands, before staring out the window again.
I shook my head and turned to look out my window. There were so many questions surrounding Mac, so many tangled threads, the most complicated being his interactions with the O’Cillians—his comfort around the manor and Conall, the similarities between Mac’s family and his. And I had nothing but the faint nagging that Mac was withholding the real truth. I remembered his quiet confession in the cave, the way he’d sneak away to swim in that cave alone. I shifted in my seat again, biting my lip and fighting the confusion that swirled in both my head and heart.
Were the happenings at Dún Na Farraige like Oak Leaf Hallow? Two hundred years ago, my ancestors taught young witches the craft at the plantation. The apothecary gardens still bloomed, and brides flocked to the ornamental gardens, long renowned for the plants we sold, for their wedding photos. Had vampires learned how to function among humans at the manor as the young witches learned to function at home?
Mac’s hand tightened around mine, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re very quiet,” he said, his voice soft, almost coaxing.
I turned from the window, locking eyes with him, those familiar ocean-blue depths searching mine. “I could say the same about you.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. What are you thinking of?”
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “There are just some things that don’t make sense.”
“Vampires rarely do.”
I glanced down at our hands, intertwined so easily, but my chest tightened with doubt. Did I really know this man sitting beside me?
I sighed, my eyes tracing the familiar depths of his, so like the waters we’d swum in earlier. “It isn’t just that, Mac.”
He leaned closer, his voice a low murmur, his fingers brushing my jaw. “Then what is it, starlight?”
My voice faltered. “Do I even know who you really are?”
Mac turned, his gaze slipping to the window. When he finally looked back at me, his hand rose, fingers warm against my cheek. He leaned in and kissed me—soft and hesitant but sure.
“That is who I am,” he whispered. “I know I haven’t told you a lot, but I need you to understand—I have nine hundred years of history. Nine hundred years to protect you from. All of them stories for another day.”
His whispered words lingered between us. Nine hundred years. Their weight settled in my chest, and though I smiled, uncertainty still gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. What was so horrible that he thought I needed protection?
We passed through the airport gates without stopping at security, much like we had in Kentucky. The red lights lined the tarmac, and again, the plane waited for us, but it looked different this time. My ring did not burn as I looked at the tail and saw the O’Cillian crest. Joshua and Dani hopped from the car to attend to their tasks.
“Is this a different plane?”
Mac tilted his head. “No. Why?”
“I couldn’t see that crest before on the tail. I couldn’t see that crest at all until I drew it for Isla.” I pointed at the emblem, suspicion curling in my chest. “You said it was your plane, but that’s the O’Cillian family crest. Why?”
“Because Dún Na Farraige Estates owns it,” he said with a small shrug and a smile.
I pressed him again, my voice quieter now, my stomach tightening. “But why?”
A chill crept over my skin, my breath catching in my throat. A stiff hand closed around my heart, and I refused to ask the question I should because I didn’t want the answer.
“It’ll make sense in time,” he said, his voice steady. “For now, trust your heart.”
Aunt Amara’s words haunted me, bouncing around in my mind. Trust your heart. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the frustration rising in me. My voice rose as my blood heated under my skin. “How can I trust my heart when you’re still holding back?”
“When you return to Savannah and eventually take your place as High Priestess,” he breathed, “will you tell me everything?”
His words cut through me, and my shoulders fell. I hadn’t thought of it that way before, and the realization made me pull back. I ran my thumb along the band of my ring.
“Aurora,” my mother’s voice whispered, “follow the path you know you must take.” I shook my head and gritted my teeth.
Mac stepped out of the car and glided to my side, opening the door with a familiar ease. I took his hand, but my mind was stuck on that crest. It felt like a knife twisting deeper with every step.
The narrow hallway closed in on me as we boarded. I slid into the seat, the same one from before, but everything felt different now. Mac’s gaze followed mine to the bed in the back—an unspoken invitation that sent a flutter through my chest. If he thought for a minute he was getting me back there, he was so wrong.
His voice was soft, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. The tenderness in the gesture made my breath catch.
“If you don’t want to share a bed with me, I understand. I can have Dani set up a second bed.”
My heart pounded at the implication, and I shifted in my seat, avoiding his eyes for a moment before shaking my head.
His gaze was filled with emotions I never expected to see in a vampire: tenderness, love, vulnerability. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I wasn’t used to seeing this side of him—so raw, so open. My throat tightened. I didn’t want to be separate from him, but questions burned in my mind. Will you tell me everything? I knew the answer to his question. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Just like now, our supernatural duties required us to follow our own paths yet somehow together. I took a deep breath.
“I trust you,” I murmured. I trusted him—at least, I wanted to. But something was still just out of reach, something dangerous. My stomach knotted at the thought.
He smiled, and my body pushed forward against the seat belt as the plane taxied. Within minutes, we were airborne. Dani appeared from the back of the plane, moving with her familiar grace.
“Sir, would you like your usual nightcap?”
Mac nodded. “Yes, please. Rory?”
“Bourbon, please. Not a lot.” My voice came out quieter than I intended.
She grinned. “Of course.”
She disappeared into the galley, glasses clinking. Mac turned his attention back to me. He leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Rory, I learned something when Conall and I went out that I need to tell you.”
I bit my lip. I'm not sure I wanted to hear it, but it was something he wanted to share. “Go on.”
“Runa was out on the beach, and I confronted her about where to find the Cure. You see, it was her I learned about him through.” He ran his fingers along the edge of the table.
“Did she tell you anything?”
“Only about the coven,” he said. “She said the coven’s mandate was not only to keep the balance between the hunters and the O’Cillians but also to protect the Cure.”
My eyes opened wide as my jaw dropped. “Why don’t we remember him?”
“I think because of the same spell that caused you to forget the O’Cillians and the crest. But you are obviously breaking that spell, and I don’t know how.”
I ran my hand over my face, the ring’s band gliding over my chin. I knew how, but now wasn’t the time to tell him because I didn’t know what was next. I gritted my teeth, wanting to scream, furious at the information, wondering what my aunt knew. “Why didn’t Aunt Amara just ask me to bring the grimoire home?”
“Are you sure it has nothing to do with me?”
As Dani placed the glasses on the small table between us, I stared at the blood still swirling in his glass, the dark hue reminding me of what he was, regardless of how sophisticated and caring he came across. He took a sip as I grimaced, then set the glass down, his gaze never leaving mine.
“I haven’t wanted to leave you to go feed. It’s what I need to live,” he mumbled. “And I won’t take it from you—unless you ask.” He took another sip, his eyes watching me intently, waiting for my reaction.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, shifting the topic. “I asked Aunt Amara about you—about us.”
He furrowed his brow as he sat back. “And what did she say?”
“She won’t stand in the way. Neither will the coven. Her taking the grimoire wasn’t about you.” As I said it, my heart settled, the words soothing the ache that our argument had caused.
“Well, that’s good to hear.” He smirked, the edge of his mouth curving up. “I’d rather not make enemies of witches.”
I smiled. “And how often has that happened?”
He shook his head. “Only once.”
I narrowed my eyes, intrigued. “Just once?”
“Once is enough,” he said with a small chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s a story for another day.”
I teased, “You say that a lot.”
“There are a lot of stories,” he admitted, his tone quieter.
He took his time finishing the drink, the slow movements adding to the shifting tension building between us. I sipped on my own, searching his every move for a hint about what was next. Was our argument forgiven, or would it linger? Then, without a word, he stood and extended his hand toward me.
My heart fluttered, excitement and nervousness mixing as I poured the rest of my bourbon down my throat. I didn’t notice the sharp burn as I reached for his hand.
“Are you sure about this?” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around mine, his voice soft but full of unspoken questions.
I nodded, though part of me was still trying to convince myself as much as him.
His touch slid to the back of my neck, sending a thrill running through me. “Why?”
I met his gaze, steady this time, my voice firmer. “Because I know you’re not compelling me. I want to be with you, and that is my choice.”
He chuckled a soft, dismissive sound. “Compelling you has never been successful, though I still don’t fully comprehend why not.”
I shook my head. “That’s the other reason.” His brows furrowed, a small crease forming between them as I continued. “I know why you can’t compel me. And there are things about the coven I won’t be able to share—not now, and certainly not when I’m High Priestess.” I exhaled, the tension in my shoulders loosening, though the unease lingered. “I’ll have to be okay with not knowing everything all the time.”
Mac’s arms slid around me, his warmth engulfing me. His lips brushed mine, the kiss gentle but charged with everything unspoken. When he finally broke the silence, his words were a soft breath against my lips.
“There is one thing I can promise you.”
“What’s that?” My voice trembled as I forced the words out.
“I will always protect you.”
His words were simple, but they hit me harder than anything else he could’ve said. My heart clenched, and I knew it was the closest he’d come to telling me what I desperately needed to hear.
He led me to the bed at the rear of the plane, my heart speeding in my chest. He closed a door behind us, giving us as much privacy as possible. My eyes flickered to the partition, wondering where the other vampire had gone.
“Don’t worry,” said Mac, pulling me to him. “Dani has gone to her own berth, and I’m sure is paying us no mind whatsoever. Paul may have even joined her by now.”
I gave him a slight, embarrassed smile. Before I could open my mouth to speak, he stepped closer to me and slid his arm around my back, his scent of the harbor wafting over me. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you blush? I can smell your blood rising to the surface of your skin in an amazing bouquet—better than the finest wines I have tasted.” He lowered his mouth to my neck and kissed it. “I cannot wait for the day you grant me a taste,” he growled before he moved his lips to mine, his tongue slipping past them.
I put my arms around his neck, holding him to me as his hands pulled my hips into his. I could already feel the hardness of his cock against me again—a feeling I would never tire of. I ran my hand down his back, the silky feel of his black dress shirt soft beneath my fingers, concealing the hard muscles below. The smoothness of his pants was a distinct sensation as I placed my hand on his ass, pulling him tighter to me.
His lips broke from mine, and he stepped back, sliding his shoes from his feet as he did. The pale skin of his hands contrasted sharply against the black of his pants as they found the button. “Come, join me on the bed,” he said, his voice soft as he pushed his pants to the floor. He picked them up and laid them over a chair, moving his shoes and socks next to it before crawling into the bed, his cock straining against his boxers.
His eyes never left mine, and I was startled at its normalcy, as though we had been together for years, and it was just another night spent together. Excitement rose in my chest as I removed my skirt and put it over the other chair, my shoes next to it. My shirt stopped at my hips, leaving my dark blue panties on display. I turned toward the bed to join him.
“Ah, not yet,” he said. I raised an eyebrow in response. He pointed at my panties. “More.”
I kept my eyes on his as I removed the material from my legs, a smile spreading across my lips. I balled them in my fist and threw them at him with a laugh. “Is that better?”
He caught them out of the air and folded them into a small square that he slid into the pocket of his shirt. “I think I’ll keep these,” he said. “You won’t need them tomorrow.”
“But—”
“That will teach you to throw things at me you don’t want me to keep.” His eyes sparkled from the banter. “Are you coming to bed?”
“Why do I have to be half naked to get in bed, but you don’t?” I asked, my voice brimming with suggestion as I slid onto the sheets next to him.
“Because you haven’t asked me for anything else.” He lowered his lips to mine with a tenderness that sent a thrill into my center. “Would you like something else?”
I nodded.
“Say it, Aurora,” he commanded, his hand trailing down the center of my chest, feeling the breaths catching in my throat and my heart pounding.
I swallowed the lump that had risen. “I want to see you naked above me.” I could barely recognize my own words, not used to speaking my desires so plainly. Mac didn’t hesitate, removing the rest of his clothes with haste. He nestled himself on his knees between my legs, looking over me.
His hands caressed my thighs, his eyes dropping to the place between them. “Your cunt is still swollen and glistening from earlier,” he said, continuing the trail up my sides, warmth spreading through me as his fingers grazed my bare skin while pulling my shirt up.
I nodded as I raised my arms above my head to allow him to pull the material over my head. I felt the last of it on my fingers and started to lower my arms.
Mac’s hand caught my wrists. “Leave them there. I like the way your breasts are held in place, waiting for my lips on your nipples.”
I let him guide my hands back over my head as he lowered his lips to the sensitive nubs that had hardened with his words. The fire grew between my legs as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, followed by the other. His cock rested softly on my entrance as he focused his hands and mouth on my chest.
He pushed forward, my tight cunt stretching for his enormous cock, his movements slow and focused. He placed an elbow on either side of my head, his hands in mine, our fingers intertwined. His movements were so slow I felt each ridge of his veins as he slid into me and back out. His gaze locked on mine.
My hips moved almost involuntarily in anticipation, rising to meet his. Instead of encouraging him, he pulled back. I dropped my hips to the bed, and he resumed his tantalizing movements, his pace heightening my desires. As he filled me again, the base of his cock caressing my clit, I whimpered beneath him.
“What do you want, Aurora?” His question was even more gentle than the words had been earlier.
I looked at him, pleading with my eyes, raising my lips to his, and grinding into him with my center. He pulled his cock back while consuming my mouth. When he finally removed his lips from mine, I could feel his breath as he spoke, his eyes closed, his forehead on mine. His fingers tightened their grip on my hands. “Tell me what you want.” He opened his eyes and held my gaze.
My heart felt as though it was in a steel vise, pounding against a cage of my own making. Turmoil filled my stomach, the idea of sharing my thoughts foreign, but he needed to hear them. I bit my lip, lifting my hips and trying to reclaim his cock, which sat with just the head inside me. He inched forward. “Tell me,” he whispered, his gaze piercing my soul, longing for those words in the same way I longed for different ones just a few minutes ago.
I lifted my lips to his, pulling strength from the man above me who desired every bit of me, every part of my senses, including my voice. I pulled back. “Fuck me.” My words were a simple command. “Fuck me until I come screaming your name.”
He moaned as he slammed his cock into me in a quick stroke, his arms squeezing me to him as best they could.
“Happily.” Gone were the soft and subtle movements, replaced by hard, almost punishing strokes that fanned a flame of desire inside me unlike any from before, my words emboldening him.
I wrapped my legs around his back. Our breaths came in short synchronized gasps as the pressure mounted in my core, his slow start having nearly driven me mad. He bent to my chest and pulled a nipple into his mouth, sending courses of pleasure through me. I shattered completely with the force of his hips driving into me. He never slowed, his hands on my elbows holding my arms above my head, waves of pleasure washing over me. His name tore from my lips on a small scream as he rammed into me one last time, his cock pulsing with the rhythm of his orgasm.
Silently, without a word spoken, he pulled from me, kissing me deeply before gathering me to his chest. I placed my head on it, feeling the rise and fall, accompanied by the faint hum of the plane’s engines outside the window. He flipped a switch above his head, and the main lights turned off. He kissed my forehead and ran his fingers up and down my spine. My eyes felt heavy as they closed, my heart full. Never had I expected to find myself here, but I’d hold on to this, to him, no matter the cost.