40. Epilogue – Aurora
A month had passed since Cormac and I recognized the significance of our relationship—of being mates. We were still settling into some kind of routine, splitting our time between the plantation and finding the Cure.
Even now, it wasn’t straightforward. Isla had joined us once we learned the area of Scotland we were focused on was where her family was from. Locator spells would only get us so close before my pendulum would seemingly send us in the opposite direction. The frustration of those failed attempts lingered in the air between us, an unspoken weight we both carried but never let consume us.
It didn’t help that I had a coven halfway across the world to care for and a plantation to manage on my own. Jade helped as much as she could, but it wasn’t the same as having Aunt Amara by my side. I couldn’t leave for more than a few days before something happened that needed my attention, including when we had been called back two days ago to assist with finalizing arrangements for a wedding that would have encroached on some of our sacred herbs.
Cormac and I sat in the plantation’s parlor, the aroma of polished wood and old books threading through the air. On the table in front of me was a drawer we had pulled out of Aunt Amara’s vanity. Lyra had taken almost everything that belonged to my aunt when she moved out, leaving me with little to remember her by. My aunt’s presence still lingered, and I often glanced at the shadows in the corners, wondering if any of them were her keeping an eye on me—just as my mother did.
My fingers traced the pendant hanging around my neck. There was no escaping that both Amara and my mother had once worn it, and I followed in their footsteps. It was the only thing I would ever need to remember them. After all, they were only a séance away.
I looked at the drawer and sighed. We had brought it down here to get away from the suffocating feeling that sometimes embraced me when I spent too long in her room. Someday, the air would clear out, and my aunt’s spirit would no longer feel tied to the space. Until then, I would go through her remaining belongings here in the parlor. I gazed into the drawer. Several pieces of jewelry were mixed with my aunt’s hair ties and bobby pins, haphazardly thrown in and mixed with other trinkets.
I sifted the mess through my fingers, a necklace hooking on one. I held it up, a smile claiming my lips. My eyes flickered to Cormac, and my voice caught in my throat. “I remember this necklace. My aunt used to wear it when she was going somewhere fun, like a carnival.”
I lowered it into my palm and wrapped my fingers around it. Memories of her laughter flowed through me, the background full of music and people talking. The smell of the funnel cakes she would buy for Lyra and me wafted through the air, the sound of the dried grass crunching beneath our feet as we hurried to the next attraction echoing in my mind.
Cormac put his hand on my knee, steady and warm. “It sounds lovely,” he said before gesturing to the drawer. His eyes filled with understanding as he watched the emotions cross my face. “But what are you going to do about the rest of it?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Once I make sure there’s nothing else worthwhile in here—like this necklace—I’ll end up throwing it all away.” The words felt heavy on my chest. How could I throw away pieces of my aunt’s life? But I knew I had to let go.
His eyes held mine for a moment, offering silent support as I braced myself.
I pushed all the hair things to the side when something caught my eye at the bottom of the drawer. It flipped down after being held up by a hairpin. The soft clink of the metal hitting the bottom of the drawer drew out a faint echo.
“What’s this?” I said. I reached in and found an envelope with my name on it. My breath caught as I pulled it out, my fingers trembling as I held it.
Cormac tilted his head. “It’s like she knew you would find it.”
My vision blurred as emotions surged, her absence more palpable than it had been in weeks. “I’m sure she knew I would,” I whispered.
I turned it over, slid my finger under the edge, and ripped it open. The tearing paper seemed impossibly loud before I pulled the folded letter from its confines. It was written in my aunt’s eclectic, curly, and loopy handwriting—reflecting everything she had been. The familiar curves of the letters brought a fresh wave of grief as I ran my fingers over the page.
My heart pounded in my chest and my breath stuttered as I sat back to read it aloud.
Dear Aurora,
If you’re reading this letter, then I know I am gone. I put you on a plane to Kentucky this morning, telling you to find the cave to bring home the way to find the vampire. Sometimes being the High Priestess is so very difficult because you know things that are going to happen that you wish you could change. And I know that by the time you’re reading this, what I wish I could change is that I was sitting right there next to you.
But what I would never want to change is who is sitting there next to you.
Her words made me look up. Cormac met my gaze, his eyes full of caring and love. He offered me a soft, reassuring smile that lifted a bit of weight from my shoulders. I focused again on the page.
The vampire sitting next to you is supposed to be there, your destinies pulled together by fate. You are where you are supposed to be, my child. It has only been in the past few weeks that I’ve understood something more about our coven—something we have forgotten. But something we will learn—with you as the High Priestess and him at your side. I don’t need to tell you this because fate would not allow it anyway, but never let him go, Aurora. He is yours. Together, you will finish what was started centuries ago.
The coven is safe with you. And with him. And with the Heir. The curse will be no more.
You are always one of my sister witches, and if you ever need to find me or your mother, you know how. Until we walk in the land of the ancestors together—which could be a very, very long time away for you—remember to find us and to hold us safe.
I love you, my child.
Amara
I looked at Cormac, shaking my head. “She knew,” I breathed. “She knew we were mates.”
He simply smiled. “How could she not?” he whispered before pecking my lips.
I was still confused. “What does she mean ‘The curse will be no more’? We never learned how to create a vampiric witch.”
Cormac wrapped his arms around me, pulling my head to his shoulder. I sank into the comfort of it. I had been so tired and relished a few minutes of silence.
“Wait.” Cormac pushed me away from him, his eyes wide as he peered down at me. “Do you hear that?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, concerned by the look of confusion that twisted his face. “Hear what?”
He reached out and placed his hand on my abdomen, the warmth of his touch seeping into my body. “Shhh...” He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. I didn’t even breathe as a smile came to his lips.
“Rory.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and wonder.
My breath caught in my throat as his fingers curled softly into my flesh. “No. I am not.”
He wrapped his arms around me, my heart pounding. “You are. I can hear her heartbeat!” His eyes shimmered with joy.
I held him for a moment, in shock, struggling to process what I knew was true, but my heart was soaring. I was pregnant with his child.
I sat back and looked at him, my heart sinking. If it was a girl... My aunt’s words came to mind. The curse will be no more. The fear washed away from me, my life with him ahead of me. Every one of my muscles relaxed in his arms.
He pulled back and searched my face. The love in his eyes was unwavering as it was joined with uncertainty. “What is it?”
“She’s the witch who will be sustained by blood, the second vampire-witch hybrid in the coven. The High Priestess curse is broken.” The words came out as a revelation, my heart pounding.
My thoughts went back to Amara’s letter. She knew the curse would be broken, that I would live a long and healthy life with Cormac at my side. I took his hands, our fingers intertwined as we stared into each other’s eyes, each processing the shock in our own way.
The sound of his phone ringing shattered the moment, breaking the calm. It was an unusual sound—no one really ever called him. He looked over at the table. The caller ID showed a long number but no name.
My brow furrowed, and a strange sense of unease gripped my chest. “Who is it?”
He shook his head and picked up the phone. “Hello?” he answered, putting it on speaker.
“Brother,” came a voice I didn’t recognize. There was a certain warmth to it, but the undertone sent a chill down my spine. “Just coming in from a swim. Congratulations on your wonderful news. However, let it be known that I have no intention of helping you and Conall.”
Cormac’s face tensed, his voice tight. “Lorcan. How wonderful to hear from you.”
The call ended. The silence following Lorcan’s words was suffocating.
Cormac set the phone on the table next to the drawer, biting the insides of his lips together. He gazed into the distance in quiet contemplation before turning to me. “How do you feel about a trip to Australia? Shall I have Jacob fuel the jet?”
A fragile trust. A buried secret. Fate bound them together, revenge could rip them apart.