Chapter 37
37
Anora
T he atmosphere changes once Hazel leaves the cabin. I’m sitting by the fire in Amir’s lap, warm and tucked against him, while House of Zorah shares stories from before the curse. It’s comforting to see them reminiscing about their mates, with easy laughter filling the room.
Gabriel has Olivia and their twins tangled up in his arms like he somehow has more than two hands. Kane doesn’t even try to hide the way he watches Tami, eyes following her every move as if she’s the only person in the room. Micah and Skylar sit close, completely in sync.
Micah is in his element, leaning forward as he recounts stories from before the Great War, his voice steady and vibrant, painting pictures of a time most of us can only imagine.
Amir joins in after a while, entertaining the children with simple but striking magic. He flicks his fingers, and soft gold and silver ribbons of light spiral through the air, heading toward Angie’s son, Aaron. The boy’s eyes light up when the magic circles him, lifting him gently off the ground.
“Wow!” Aaron beams, floating a few feet in the air, his arms spread wide like he’s flying. Amir gives it a moment before twitching his hand, guiding Aaron back down, steadying him as his feet touch the floor.
Snapping his fingers, Amir fills the room with glowing, floating bubbles. The kids burst into giggles, poking and popping them while they shimmer and disappear in flashes of light. I glance at Amir and smile. He turns to meet my gaze and steals a quick kiss.
When I yawn, Amir shifts, sliding out from underneath me and standing with me. He drapes an arm around my waist. “I think it’s time I put Anora to bed,” he says, his voice light but purposeful.
Tami stands up from Kane’s lap, and I can’t help but laugh softly at Kane’s scowl, like he’s annoyed she’s left him even for a moment. “Let’s go to the market in a few days,” Tami offers casually.
“I could use a little retail therapy,” Olivia says, chiming in with a grin.
Nia, sitting quietly in Levi’s lap, looks like she has something to add but hesitates. Tami catches it and turns to her. “Go ahead, Nia. You’re just as much a part of this family as anyone else,” she says, her tone encouraging.
Nia hesitates, but Olivia cuts in first. “What about the spa opening?” She huffs like it’s a pressing issue, earning a sharp glare from Tami. Then, without missing a beat, Tami shifts her expression back to a kind smile, locking her focus back on Nia.
“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Tami says, though she’s still glaring out of the corner of her eye .
There’s an awkwardness lingering in the air, subtle but noticeable. Angie seems to sense it too—she shifts slightly in her seat, her expression tightening. It becomes clear to me then: Nia isn’t exactly popular with the others. I can understand why. Considering she named her daughter after someone who once crushed every bone in my hand with a single motion, it makes sense. Still, Tami manages it gracefully, easing the moment with her usual patience.
I glance up at Amir and nod. It’s time for us to leave. He takes my hand, brushing his lips over the back of it before lacing his fingers with mine. He leads me to the door, holding it open before stepping out with me. The cabins are close enough that I don’t bother throwing on a coat, but the cool air nips at my skin. Amir’s fingers stay wrapped around mine as we walk in silence, his grip firm but comfortable.
He’s quiet, his gaze forward but far away, like his mind is someplace else. “Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.
Amir looks down at me, his mouth curling into a small smile. His face could stop anyone mid-sentence. That smile—charming, effortless—it gets me every time.
“Ah, I remember hearing about that phrase in your studies. ‘Penny for your thoughts,’” he says, teasing just a bit before his expression grows serious again. “I’m strategizing—thinking about how to deal with Aya, how to reunite with my sisters, Asma and Alina. How to destroy dark magic for good. And, most importantly, how to break the bond that still ties your powers.” His words stack, one after the other, heavy with purpose.
I can’t help but laugh a little at how overwhelming it all sounds. “Wouldn’t it be easier,” I say jokingly, “if we just found some abandoned island and disappeared for a while? Just the two of us? ”
He raises an eyebrow, smirking faintly. “Tempting,” he mutters, glancing at the cabin as it comes into view again.
“That sounds like a lovely suggestion. How about now?” Amir’s voice is calm, but when I glance at him, I realize he’s serious. My eyes widen, and I quickly shake my head.
“No, Amir. I wouldn’t dare be that selfish,” I say. I notice the way his expression flickers, just for a second, like he’s disappointed.
He leads me into the cabin without another word, heading straight for the fireplace. A quick snap of his fingers, and fire bursts to life. The glow spreads across the room, warming the space instantly. I smile, walking over to him. His hands are already moving to my face, cupping it as I wrap my arms around his waist. I tip my head back, and he presses his lips to mine in a kiss that’s all heat, all hunger.
“I have you alone again, finally,” he murmurs against my lips. His voice is low and rough, igniting something electric in me. I smile, matching his fire with my own, kissing him deeper.
His hands slide down from my face to my chest, and I can’t help but laugh softly. “You’ve got a thing for these,” I tease, giggling as he groans against my lips. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes blazing.
“How about I wash your hair tonight?” Amir says suddenly, raising an eyebrow at me.
I blink, caught off guard. “You—you want to wash my hair?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I’m trying to wrap my head around it, but he doesn’t hesitate. He starts a slow circle around me, gently picking up a strand of my hair, running it between his fingers as he moves.
“Your hair is your crown,” he says, his voice firm, almost reverent. “You’ve been neglecting it. I’ve been neglecting it. I want to fix that.”
I follow him with my eyes as he continues to circle me, watching the way he studies my hair like it’s precious. His words make my cheeks warm, but I don’t push back. He stops in front of me, his expression softening.
“Let me take care of you,” he says. It isn’t a question, and the way he says it makes me pause. I press a finger to my lips, thinking for a moment, then nod.
Before I can prepare for what’s next, Amir scoops me off my feet and teleports us straight into the bathroom. The air shifts so suddenly that I instinctively grab onto him. When my feet hit the floor, he chuckles at my reaction.
“I know teleportation doesn’t bother me,” I say, shaking my head, “but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
He laughs softly, snapping his fingers. Towels, shampoo, conditioner—all of it appears on the counter, neat and ready. I blink at the setup. “How do you do that?”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have,” he says, smirking, “simple spells like this become tedious. It’s like second nature now.” He pauses, a softer expression crossing his face. “It reminds me of Angie’s son. That boy—he reminds me of myself when I was young.”
I grin, stepping closer, my hand brushing his arm. “You were so good with the kids today. You’re like a natural. And they called you ‘Uncle.’ That was sweet.”
“I do enjoy the term,” he says with a small smile. But then his face changes, falling into something more serious. The warmth in his eyes dims slightly, and my stomach knots.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, though I don’t like the look on his face. He steps back a little, his head lowering. He looks... guilty .
“Anora,” he starts, then pauses, gathering himself. He looks up at me, meeting my gaze. “Earlier, at Kane and Tami’s cabin, I could smell the change in your scent.”
I frown, confused. “What do you mean?”
“The longing,” he continues, his voice soft but steady. “For a child. You didn’t say anything, but I could feel it. I could smell it. It was there.” He hesitates again, and I see the sadness in his eyes. It hits me just as much as his words do.
“I don’t—” I try to speak, but he interrupts me, lifting a hand to keep me from stepping closer.
“Please, Anora. Let me finish.” His voice takes on an edge, but it’s not angry—he’s just desperate to get the words out.
I stand still, arms folded across my chest. “Fine. Talk.”
He exhales sharply before finally speaking, his voice dropping lower. “I am a vampire. Vampires cannot procreate. No matter what happens between us, I can never give you a child.”
The words land like a punch, and my hand instinctively moves to my stomach. I blink, trying to process what he’s just said. He’s my mate—he’s everything to me. But the impact of his words sinks in. I’ll never carry his child. I’ll never know what it’s like to be a mother.
I breathe in deeply, my disappointment washing over me, raw and sharp. Amir must sense it. I know he can. He lowers his head again, clearly broken by what he’s just told me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “I hate that I’ve disappointed you.”
The pain in his voice pulls me from my thoughts. I step toward him, hesitating only slightly. When I reach him, he doesn’t back away this time. His hands come up, wrapping around me as he pulls me into his chest. He buries his face in my hair, holding me like I might disappear.
I close my eyes and rest my head against him. “I’m still here, Amir. I love you. That doesn’t change.”
“No, Amir, stop apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong,” I say, pulling back to meet his gaze. “Yes, I’m a little disappointed. I wanted those moments. I wanted to see you watch our baby grow inside me. I wanted to watch you hold our son or daughter for the first time, to see you bond with them. But none of that matters. What matters is you, Amir. I love you, and nothing will change that.”
His breath hitches at my words, and he cups my face with both hands. “Anora,” he whispers, but before he can say more, I giggle as he pulls me into a kiss—deep, full of love, passion, and a kind of need that warms my chest. His hands drop to my waist, carefully slipping at my clothes. There’s no rush, just deliberate movements as he focuses entirely on me.
“I still want to wash your hair,” he murmurs against my lips. “But after that, I’d like to make love to you again.” The spark of excitement in his voice makes me laugh softly.
In an instant, his clothes vanish with the snap of his fingers. He grabs the shampoo and conditioner before leading me into the shower. With another snap, the water starts, warm droplets cascading over us. He sets the bottles along the wall, then guides me gently under the showerhead. I close my eyes, letting the water run over my body, the heat soothing me. I giggle when I feel his hands brush over my nipples, his touch teasing and affectionate.
“You give me so much, Anora,” he says softly. “This love you’ve given me—it’s raw, unconditional, and it means everything. I don’t deserve you.”
I open my eyes, but he’s already focusing on pouring shampoo into his palms. He works it through my hair gently, his fingers massaging my scalp as he lathers my curls. He’s careful, treating my hair like something special, something treasured. With each slow, deliberate movement of his hands, I feel my neck and shoulders completely relax.
“Feels nice,” I murmur, almost embarrassed by how soothing it is.
He stays quiet, concentrated, making sure every strand is coated. When he tilts my head back to help rinse the shampoo out, his hands cradle the back of my neck, steadying me as warm water washes the suds away. My eyes stay closed, but I smile faintly, unable to help myself.
Conditioner comes next, and his fingers slide through my hair with gentle precision. He takes his time, detangling as he works it in. His touch is steady and calming, yet loving in a way that sends warmth coursing through me.
When he rinses the conditioner out, he doesn’t rush. His hands keep finding places to linger—my shoulders, my back, the soft curve of my waist. Then he reaches for the soap, lathering it in his hands and carefully running it over my body. His hands glide over every inch of me, cleaning me with the same slow care he used on my hair.
Standing under his touch like this, I feel spoiled—royal, even. Like everything right now is centered around making me feel loved, safe, cared for. I don’t want it to end. I wish this moment could last forever, the two of us hidden here in the warmth of the shower, the rest of the world forgotten.
When we’re done, Amir grabs a towel and pulls me from the water. He wraps it snugly around me, ensuring I’m dry and warm, then begins drying my hair with another towel. His movements are graceful, purposeful, as if he’s done this a thousand times.
Once my hair is damp but no longer dripping, he walks me to the sink, where he grabs leave-in conditioner. I watch through the mirror as he pumps some into his hand and gently runs it through my curls, smoothing it carefully. He doesn’t miss a single section. Then, grabbing a wide-tooth brush, he begins to detangle, slow and patient, working from the ends of my hair upward.
I can’t stop watching him. The look in his eyes, the care he’s putting into everything, is almost overwhelming. It’s love—real, tangible love—and it’s so much, too much all at once. Emotion swells within me, and my throat feels thick. I can’t keep it together anymore. I reach my breaking point.
I turn to him abruptly, letting the towel fall from my body, and I pull him into a deep, needy kiss. He freezes for only a second before his hands are on me, gripping my waist firmly. Without breaking the kiss, Amir grips my thighs and lifts me into his arms. My legs wrap around him instinctively as he carries me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
I cling to him, my hands tangled in his hair, my breathing ragged against his mouth. The connection between us feels like a lifeline, strong and unbreakable.
Every ounce of love he’s shown me tonight is mirrored in the way I hold him now. As he gently lays me down, that need for him only grows, and my heart beats faster. I’m anxious for him, for us—this bond we share. It feels unshakable, eternal.