28. Aurora
Aurora
M ac and I stalked up the stairs and into my room. My lower lip quivered in anger, a chill running through my entire body as I stood in front of the French doors leading to the gallery, my arms crossed over my chest. Through the windows, the night stretched over the dark forest. The list of things that had gone wrong since I set foot in Georgia kept multiplying. I took a deep breath, my lungs yearning for the heavy, deep, scented air from outside instead of the cool, crisp, air-conditioned mass that froze my chest. Why had Mac been hunched over a body? Where had he spent his hours after? Why were Lyra and Aunt Amara teaming up against me, especially after Amara had told me to follow my heart?
Mac’s arms wrapped around me from behind. I allowed his hand to guide me to face him and pull me to his chest. The warmth of his body was soothing as I leaned my head against him and sighed, inhaling the fragrance of the brackish Irish waters that never seemed to leave him. My hands clung to his silky shirt, looking for the strength to keep pushing forward. “I don’t understand,” I murmured.
He placed his hand against the back of my head and held me close. Something about the embrace felt different from before—strong and protective yet utterly gentle. My heart slowed as I settled into his arms, my eyes closed. Here, I could pretend everything was right with the world, even when it was falling apart around me.
Finally, I pulled back and pointed at the seating area in front of the fireplace, its charcoal-gray velvet edged with cypress taken from the plantation itself. The light from the chandelier cast a serene glow over the area. Mac followed my motions, his gaze hard under the lines etched on his forehead. I glanced around and let out a small, nervous laugh. “I wish I had something to offer you to drink right now.”
A playful glint flashed in Mac’s eye, and I knew his mind had concluded I had a drink to offer him, but one he wouldn’t ask me for. Instead, he shrugged, a faint smile stretching over his lips. “It’s okay.” His eyes flickered back and forth across the chairs before he sat in the one less used.
I took my seat in my usual chair, marveling at the man across from me—so proper in everything he did, bound by a duty to his family so much like me. I smoothed my hands over my hair, pulling it back from my shoulders. Mac watched, his eyes never faltering, his soft gaze confirming his patience was never tested. Time must move differently after nine hundred years. My voice was small as I looked into his eyes, finally choosing a topic. “So… do you want to explain the dead guy?”
Mac sighed, shaking his head and biting the inside of his cheek. “I’d love to explain it, but I can’t. I don’t know where he came from. But one thing’s clear—he was a message for me.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck.
I tilted my head, my brow furrowed in confusion. “Why do you say that?”
He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone, and tapped on the screen. “Because this is what sent me there.” He handed me the phone.
I looked at the map, a pin in the location where I had found him. Above it was the O’Cillian crest. “Who would even know that you’re here? And whose number is that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice growing tense. “It seems to be a burner phone. But brutal killing isn’t my style. It is—” His sentence broke off abruptly, leaving an ominous silence between us. His hand tightened into a fist on his knee as he clenched his jaw.
I leaned forward, frustration rising in my chest, tired of the half sentences and stories for another day. I grasped my pendant, my knuckles turning white. “It’s the style of who, Mac? Who are you not telling me about?”
Mac shook his head again, his eyes darkening. “Nobody. It’s not worth talking about right now. What is important for you to know is that I teach all of my sirelings, any vampire who asks really, how to feed without pain or death.”
Anger rose in my chest as I sat back with a huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “So you want me to believe it wasn’t you—that you had no hand in killing the person whose body you were found leaning over, even if you didn’t feed from him? You’re telling me it was in the style of some random vampire, but you won’t tell me who?”
“Aurora, please,” he mumbled, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. He reached across the divide between us, putting a hand on my knee. “I can’t yet, but I promise—”
I yanked my leg to the side, shaking his hand off. “Then when?” I shot back, my voice rising as I sat up straight in the chair. “When are you going to finally tell me the truth? The truth about who you really are and what you’re hiding?”
Mac’s shoulders slumped, his body seeming to fold under an invisible weight. As though every movement drained what little strength he had left, his head sank into his hands. His fingers trembled before he dragged them through his dark hair, clutching at it as if trying to hold himself together.
When he finally looked up, his eyes—raw and exposed, brimming with a pain I had never seen before—met mine. My chest tightened as I pressed my lips into a thin line. I couldn’t look away from him.
“Please, Rory,” he whispered, his voice almost hoarse. “I need you to trust me. To know that everything I’m doing—everything—is to protect you.”
“That’s the problem, Mac. You keep trying to protect me. Protect me from what? You have a fear with no evidence. I’m going to be the High Priestess of one of the most powerful covens ever created. We’ve been charged with keeping the balance between light and dark—with protecting a Cure we can’t even find—and we’re failing.”
I sat forward, my hands on my knees, my palms open to him. I wanted to take his hands in mine, to understand him. I took a deep breath. “My coven is dying, and you can help me.”
Mac raised his eyes, a hollow, glassy look consuming them, the surrounding skin pulled taut.
“Why won’t you help me?” I demanded, my voice cracking as I struggled to hold back tears.
He took a deep breath, his eyes falling to the floor. “Because you’ll get hurt. I… I care about you. More than I should.” Mac refused to lift his gaze to meet mine.
I blinked, his words sinking in. Amara’s reasoning why he would help the coven was in the back of my mind. “What do you mean you care more about me than you should?”
Mac stood and walked to the doors that led to the gallery, his back to me for a long moment before he turned. His face was so conflicted, so torn, my heart went out to him, and my anger faded. He leaned against the doorframe, looking out, refusing to look at me, his voice small as he finally spoke. “I don’t understand why, Rory, but I am so drawn to you. I can’t let you out of my sight. I need to be a part of your life. And that’s never happened before.”
My heart fluttered at his words. “You can’t be serious. In nine hundred years, you have never had a serious relationship?”
Mac crossed the room and kneeled on the floor in front of me. He placed his hands on my lap, taking my own in his, and gazed into my eyes. My heart raced as the warmth of his hands engulfed mine, chasing away the chill in my spine. The one thing I could be sure of was that Mac would protect me, even if it meant hurting himself by lying to me. I hated it, but I understood.
“I can tell you, after these past few days, I’ve never felt this before. There’s never been a woman I wanted to take as my mate—until now.”
“You want to take me as your mate?” I almost scoffed. I didn’t dare hope his words were true after the number of stories he hid.
Mac squeezed my hands and nodded. “But we have to see this through first. And your coven’s curse. How do we know a vampire and a witch being mated won’t do more harm?”
Fear caused my breath to catch in my throat as I struggled to find words, unsure if they should be words of fear or words of love. In the back of my mind, I heard Aunt Amara telling me to follow my heart. What wasn’t she telling me? I cupped Mac’s cheek in my hand, brushing my thumb gently along his skin, feeling the stubble. “I may not know,” I said softly, “but I think someone does. I think Amara might help us.”
Mac leaned into my hand, nodding as he placed his over mine. “But do you think it’s really wise to ask her right now?”
I shook my head. “No. But we’re going to have to figure this out together.” I leaned my forehead into his. “We can’t go on pretending we’re separate—that our supernatural worlds don’t affect one another.”
Mac’s face softened, and he nodded. “I promise, I'll explain everything once we find the Cure.”
I took his hands in mine again, holding them tightly, as I pulled my head back, looking into his eyes. “I wish you could trust me enough to tell me now. Because until you do, how can I be sure? How can I know this”—I gestured back and forth between us—“is real?”
His gaze softened, and for a moment, I saw something like regret. “Because your High Priestess Regent and I are both telling you the same thing, Rory. Follow your heart. It will know if this is real.”
Before I could respond, Mac rose on his knees and leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine. The soft and sweet kiss had a lingering intensity behind it. His tongue gently slid against mine, sending warmth flooding through me. One hand held mine to his cheek, the other on the back of my neck as I melted into his kiss. As our tongues danced, I searched my heart. There was no hesitancy, no doubts, not a single voice telling me to stop.
Mac’s arm slid behind me, pulling me forward. I parted my legs as I slid to the edge of the seat, feeling his hips between my thighs. I inhaled sharply before he pressed his mouth to mine again, his fingers threading through my hair, his tongue plunging deep as though he would never get enough of me. My hands circled his neck, resting on his shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple as he worked his mouth against mine.
“Ah!” A squeal of joy escaped me as his hand tightened around my back, and he lifted me into his arms. His laugh reverberated against my lips as he carried me to my bed, reaching across as far as he could and setting me down before climbing between my legs. I placed my arms behind me and scooted away, giving him room to follow. The force of his kiss pushed me back until he was lying beside me, propped up on his elbows.
His fingers gently traced down my necklaces, lingering softly on my pendant before moving across my stomach. My muscles contracted, pulling away from his hand as a warmth shot through my core, my nipples hardening. I smiled into his lips, urging him with my kiss to continue. He found my body again, his touch so light it felt like a feather as he continued to the side of my stomach, down my hip bone, and along the outside of my thigh, careful to avoid any hint of coming close to my center. His hand rested on my knee as he continued to deepen our kisses, the fire in my belly growing with each lick of his tongue on mine.
His tongue continued relentlessly, his hand unmoving. I placed my hands on his chest, gently pushing him away from me and catching his gaze. “Make love to me,” I whispered, “soft and slow.”
He smiled down at me. His voice was a soft, low rumble. “I’ll always give you anything you ask me for, Aurora.” He lowered his lips to mine again and his hand traced a path up the inside of my thigh, a thrill going through my body. Reaching my center, he brushed his fingers up and down the outside of my panties, my wetness soaking through. Without removing them, his finger circled my clit, the muted feeling causing my body to scream for more as his tongue danced over mine.
He rose to his knees, still consuming my mouth, his tongue engaging mine in a soft exchange of grazes. I felt the bed move as he removed his shoes, followed by his pants, boxers, and socks, leaving them on the floor. He hooked his fingers around my panties and urged them off my legs, leaving a trail of dampness along my thighs before he settled down next to me again. He pulled his lips from mine, glancing toward my ankle, cupping it with his hand before he slowly dragged his fingers up my leg, causing goose bumps to rise on my flesh even though I was practically as clothed as I had been before.
His gaze locked on mine, a coy smile playing on his lips. He dropped his lips to my chest, kissing along my collarbone as his hand reached my thigh and continued its upward path. I closed my eyes, focusing on every feeling, every sensation of his hands against my flesh. I inhaled sharply as he never stopped, sliding his finger into my wetness until it fully penetrated me. His thumb massaged my clit. He shifted the arm he was leaning on so he could palm my breast through my dress as he dragged his finger out of me before pushing it back in. My pussy grasped at it, wanting more as he found that spot along my inner walls that made me shiver in delight. He pulled his finger out again before pushing it back in, lightly pinching my nipple this time as he grazed my clit again with his other hand. A moan escaped my throat as I shifted against his finger inside me.
He kissed the middle of my neck before lifting his head. I felt his gaze looking down on me and opened my eyes to him. “I love that sound,” he growled, his voice low before he kissed me again, one finger relentlessly stroking my insides, the other hand rolling and pinching at my nipple through my dress.
My breaths were coming in short gasps, my hips rising to meet his hand as his finger fucked me. A familiar feeling built in the base of my spine as he caressed me from the inside, rolling against my inner flesh, causing every nerve in my body to feel like it was on fire. I stood on the edge of a pool of oblivion, being taken higher with every stroke, the tension building as my clit burned under his thumb. His finger slid inside me, his other hand pinched my nipple, and his thumb pressed on my clit all in a concentrated moment. The glorious combination of sensations filled with pleasure and a hint of pain threw me off the edge and into the pool where I was drowning in overwhelming ecstasy. My body shook as my pussy grabbed at his unstopping finger, which continued to caress my insides. I pushed my hips against his hand, burying the delight as deep inside me as I could as I struggled for breath against the onslaught of euphoria.
I caught my breath, sweat on my brow, as I placed a hand on his chest and one around his neck. I kissed him, my tongue grinding against his. After a moment, I pushed him back before reaching for his cock. He moved his hips, keeping it out of my reach, and shook his head. “Your request was that I make love to you. You’ll get your chance another time.”
He lay on his back and pulled me to straddle him. I raised my eyebrow. “Do I at least get to remove your shirt?” He nodded, pulling my lips to his as I undid the buttons, pushing the silky material aside and off his arms. As soon as they were free, I felt his hands on my hips, pushing my dress over my head. For a moment, it felt as though I was suffocating as the garment covered my face before he threw it onto the floor with the other clothes. He grasped my hips and took my weight in his hands, lifting me to my knees as though I were nothing more than a leaf on a breeze.
He lined his hard cock up with my entrance before he lifted his hips, pushing into me, holding me above him. There was no weight on my knees at all, his strength taking over. I gazed down at his chest, watching his abs flex as he lifted his cock into me again. I closed my eyes and moaned as it slid in to the hilt, embracing its ecstatic feeling of fullness. When I opened my eyes, Mac held my gaze with his, taking in every expression. I smiled down at him, placing my hands on his chest, feeling his muscles beneath me as he pushed into me and pulled out again and again. The movements stoked the flames in my core, causing them to grow, my desire heightening. It was maddening I couldn’t meet his strokes as he held me above him.
His thrusts increased, using my breath as a guide. Each time my breathing sped up, so did his thrusts, bringing me closer to the edge. I tried holding off, wanting to keep him inside me for as long as I could. His cock stirred untold pleasures along with unknown emotions in my soul. I looked into his gaze, the softness of his eyes, the desire to see me shatter as much as I wanted it—regardless of how much I fought it. His words confirmed my read of him as he pushed into me, pulling me down on top of him, grinding into my clit. “Come now, Aurora.” His words were the catalyst that threw me over the edge, wave after wave of pleasure radiating through me from where my pussy grasped onto his pulsing cock, shaking my entire body.
I collapsed onto his chest, unable to remain upright through my orgasm. He held my hips to him as a growl fell from him, his own release following mine. He rolled me onto my back, taking his position above me again, claiming my lips. His hand went to my naked breast, massaging it.
He lifted his lips from mine and smiled at me, tracing my collarbone. I reached a hand to his cheek. He leaned into it with his eyes closed as I caught my breath, my heartbeat returning to normal. After a moment, he opened them again, his soft gaze locking onto mine. “I hope you don’t think we’re done, my starlight,” he breathed, kissing me. “My love.”
I tilted my head to the side, my hair crunching against the mattress. “What did you call me?” My voice cracked as I asked the question.
“Starlight? It fits you perfectly.” He smiled at me.
“The other one,” I whispered.
His eyes met mine, the depths of who he was rising to the surface of the oceanic blue, shimmering with unspoken emotion. “I love you, Aurora. And I intend to spend the rest of tonight making sure you know that.” His lips met mine in a hungry kiss.
My heart cried out as the physical sensations met the emotional ones, and I fought tears of joy. He pulled away from me, his gaze even softer than before. “I love you, too.” My response felt small and inadequate. Words couldn’t convey the depth of the feeling in my heart.
Regardless of our different lives, my place in the coven, or even who he was, there was no denying I was in love with him.