Chapter 34
34
Anora
I wake up against Amir’s chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over my skin. My body feels sore, yet content, and flashes of last night stir to life in my mind. His touch, his care, the way his beasts emerged and took over—it wasn’t frightening.
It was so raw, so consuming. I catch myself smiling, my fingers curling around his arm, still wrapped around me. It’s strong and powerful, but the way he holds me shows how careful he is with me, how much he values me.
My breath hitches as I remember the intensity in his eyes last night, the hunger that burned there, unfiltered and consuming. He was on top of me, his presence everywhere, claiming, loving, overwhelming in a way that left me feeling wanted. Needed.
I run my fingers over my neck, and the memory of his bite—a sharp, sensual moment—nearly makes my head spin. A possessive, undeniable mark.
My eyes snap open, and I sit up suddenly, clutching my neck. My heart races, my palm pressed against it as the thought hits me. Did it change me? Am I different now?
“Anora?” Amir’s voice is steady, calm, pulling my attention. He’s watching me, his golden eyes soft but curious.
“Am I a vampire? Did you turn me?” My voice shakes as I ask it, scared but... hopeful?
Amir laughs softly, shaking his head. “No, angel. It doesn’t work that way. You’d have to be dying, and you’d need to drink my blood for the change to happen.”
I relax against him, my face against his chest. “Oh.”
He chuckles again and strokes my hair, his fingers gliding through the strands before pulling a lock closer to examine it. His frown is instant.
“Your hair’s a mess,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Dry. Brittle. I’m going to fix that. I’ll wash it, comb it—take care of it properly.”
I can’t help but laugh, snatching my hair from his hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” he says, pulling me back into his arms.
“Last night was...” My words trail off as his grip around me grows stronger.
“Magical,” he says, his voice heated and firm. “Beautiful. Perfect. Everything. All at once.” He pauses before adding another word, and another one, and another, until I’m laughing and hiding my face in his chest.
“I’m sore,” I tell him, smiling against his skin, “but I’m not complaining. I’d do it all over again.”
He kisses the top of my head, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “My beasts...” He exhales deeply. “Last night was different. Letting my lion out, the way my tail and tongue reacted—I didn’t scare you, did I?”
I shake my head and tilt my face to look up at him. “No. You don’t have to apologize. I loved it. I love you. I love them.”
His golden eyes flash with emotion, and he brings his lips to mine in a slow, deliberate kiss. It feels like time stops. The world outside dissolves, and suddenly there’s no one else, nothing else. When he pulls away, I’m breathless, dazed, smiling like an idiot.
The blanket slips from my shoulders, and I quickly grab it to cover myself, embarrassed. Amir stops me, though, pulling it back down and leaving me bare in front of him.
“Don’t hide,” he says simply. His voice is soft but commanding. “There’s no need for that. We’re one now. Completely.”
His fingers graze my neck, skimming over the mark he left behind, and a tremor courses through me. My head tilts back, surrendering to the sensation. His touch sparks something smoldering just beneath the surface, and my body responds instantly—heart pounding, melting into him once more.
His hand grips the back of my neck, pulling my face to his. Our mouths collide in another kiss, one that’s deeper, wetter, hotter than the first. Stars flash behind my closed eyes, and I have no idea how long we stay like that. Minutes? Hours? It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but Amir.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. He strokes my neck again, his fingers lingering on the mark.
“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and rough but full of tenderness. “This mark bonds us. Forever. The world will see it and know you belong to me.”
His words light something in me, and I beam up at him. “When do I do the same for you?” I ask, excitement bubbling in my chest at the thought .
“It has to happen naturally. You can’t force it,” Amir says, his voice calm and steady.
My excitement fades as his words sink in. I don’t feel it—the urge to claim him—and the sadness settles in quickly. My face falls, and he notices. His hand comes up to gently stroke my cheek, his touch soothing but not enough to push away the gnawing disappointment.
“You’ll feel it, Anora, I promise,” he tells me softly. “But I can’t tell you when. It could be days, weeks, months—it just has to come naturally. When it happens, it’ll be primal and raw, and there’ll be no stopping it.”
I run my fingers over the smooth skin of my neck, tracing the claim mark he left on me. I want that same drive, that same need. I want to mark him, to show the world he belongs to me just like I belong to him.
“Give it time,” he says again, his voice patient. “It’ll happen when it’s meant to.”
I pout despite his attempt to reassure me. My fingers trail over the tattoos on his arm. I hadn’t noticed them before—not this closely. They ripple over his deep chocolate skin, bold and intricate, covering nearly every inch.
“What do these mean?” I ask, brushing my fingers over the raised designs.
He glances at his arm briefly before looking back at me. “They’re time stamps,” he says simply.
“Time stamps?” I trace another design, confused but intrigued.
“I was counting the years,” he explains, his tone soft. “Each one represents the years I waited for you.”
I glance at his arm again, noticing just how many there are. My throat tightens. So many years. So many lifetimes waiting for me.
“I hate that you had to wait so long for me,” I whisper, my chest aching at the thought of him enduring that kind of loneliness.
His hand cups my cheek, and he smiles down at me with tenderness in his eyes. “You’re worth the wait, Anora. Every second.”
His words melt something inside me, and when he leans in, I meet him halfway. His kiss is familiar now, comforting and electrifying all at once. There’s no hesitation in the way I respond, no second-guessing—I’ll never deny this, never deny him.
When I pull back, I glance around the room, my mind turning to the bigger picture. I’m here now, on Wintermoon. With him. But what next? There’s so much at stake. Aya. The radicals. And Andrew—we need to check on him.
I turn to Amir, my expression serious. “We need to check on Andrew,” I say.
He smiles at me, calm as ever. “Already done. I handled it while you were sleeping.”
Relief washes over me, but I listen as he continues.
“He’s taking refuge in the Detroit mayor’s mansion. Apparently, the mayor has ties to a local shifter clan—a highly protected one.”
“What kind of clan?” I ask, my brow furrowing.
“Dragon shifters,” he says after a beat. “The Ash Clan. They’re the last of the dragon shifters.” His voice turns cold, distant, filled with a regret I don’t quite understand.
I sit up straighter, watching him closely. “Why are they the only ones left?”
His expression darkens, and I can feel the heaviness of whatever memory he’s reliving. I think back to my dreams—the war, Aya’s spell wiping out so many innocent lives. The images still haunt me. Women. Children. All of them gone in an instant .
“I executed them,” he says finally, his voice low and steady. “For their crimes. They slaughtered so many on the battlefield—entire packs, clans, prides.”
His words hit me hard. “But they thought you killed their women and children,” I whisper, the pieces falling into place.
“They did,” he admits. “But it wasn’t me. It was Aya.”
“It wasn’t you!” I blurt out, anger rising in my chest. “It was Aya! She’s the one who?—”
He cuts me off with a small, sad smile. He doesn’t need to say anything. I already know. Guilt isn’t something you can easily shake, even when it isn’t truly yours to bear.
“Yes, Anora. I know you saw what happened. I still don’t understand why Fate keeps sending you back to witness those horrors,” Amir says, his golden eyes flicking to mine.
I raise an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Probably because she knows you won’t tell me anything.”
He laughs, deep and warm, but there’s a thin edge to it. “You might be right, angel. I would shelter you from it all if I could. As a king, I have to bear these things alone. I had no choice back then. The shifter community wanted revenge for what was taken from them, even if they realized later they were wrong.”
He sighs heavily, looking ahead like he’s staring into some dark void. His shoulders tense, his jaw tightens, and I know he’s reliving it—the Great War, the destruction that came with it.
“My sister, Aya, knew if she could get the Dragon Shifters to turn against me, I would lose,” he says finally, his voice low. “Aya wants total power—not just over humans but over supernaturals too. She believes the only way to maintain balance on Earth is by enslaving everyone—humans and shifters alike. That’s why Brookstone and Blackburn Enterprises exist. That’s why radical behavior is on the rise.”
I press a finger to my lips, piecing it all together in my mind. “Why would she do this to her own kind?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Amir’s expression darkens further. “In her eyes, the supernaturals she cursed are a lost cause. Their loyalty is hardset with me—and with the curse broken, shifter children are being born again. Aya sees a clean slate. The youth are easy to manipulate, easy to mold into soldiers for her agenda. She wants an army to keep humans in submission. The chaos, the radicals—it’s all a distraction to hide her true intentions. If supernaturals are too busy fighting each other, no one notices what she’s really doing.”
“Oh my God,” I murmur, my hands clenching in my lap. “That’s terrible.”
Amir places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “While I was in my slumber, she used radicals to murder shifter families, taking the children for her cause. Thankfully, Gabriel, the House of Zorah, Kade, and Damon stopped her from going further. But Aya found a way to manipulate my Master Coven—a group that was formed to help maintain balance while I slept. She whispered to them, turned them against me.”
“Whispered?” I ask, confused.
“Aya has a unique power. Her voice can bend anyone with a weak mind to her will. A single whisper can make someone do anything she wants.”
I shudder, the heaviness settling in my chest. “How are you going to stop her?”
“There’s a book,” he says. “One of my children is collecting it now. It’s an ancient text that can destroy dark magic forever. Aya knows I’m serious about ending her power, and that’s why she’s been making bold moves. She appeared at the bar with the radicals to create a distraction.”
“The distraction,” I repeat, nodding slowly, the pieces clicking into place.
“She attacked you to force my hand,” Amir continues. “She thought hurting you would convince me to return the key to her spell book.”
“Why can’t she just take it?”
“That’s one of Fate’s laws,” he explains. “She was entrusted with the key to protect the universe’s oldest spells. If she lost it or became negligent, the only way for her to get it back is if I give it to her willingly. She’s bound by that rule—she can’t take it by force.”
I look down at my hands, flexing my fingers, then glance back at Amir. “My magic... Maybe there’s something I can do to help. I was bound for a reason, right? When will you help me break my curse?”
He smiles, leaning in to kiss me. It’s soft but full of promises. “I’m going to bring it up before the House of Zorah today. Angie is a Blackwood witch, powerful in her own right. Maybe she knows of a way to break it. I thought claiming you would do the trick, but evidently, it didn’t.”
His words sink in, but then something else snaps into focus in my mind. “Breakfast!” I blurt out, remembering my plans. “And I’m supposed to see Olivia!”
I jump out of bed too quickly, and the moment my feet hit the floor, my legs buckle under me. Before I can hit the ground, Amir teleports, catching me in his arms effortlessly. He’s already chuckling by the time I look up, embarrassment written all over my face.
“Ridiculous,” he mutters with a smirk, shaking his head as he carries me into the bathroom.