Chapter 14 Ezra
Ezra
The shadows move first. Some slither ahead, stretching long across the floor, twisting toward the door. Others coil at my feet, hungry and eager.
They already know where I’m going. Who I’m hunting.
Not the worthless male.
But the woman with fire in her blood and my name carved behind her heart in the space where want and wrath intertwine.
I don’t remember grabbing my coat. Or crossing the room. But suddenly, I’m at the door. My hand’s already on the knob, fingers curled tight, my body moving before I even realize it.
I was made for this. For her. For war.
A slow, sharp smirk pulls at the corner of my mouth.
“She’s a monster.”
The words scrape from my throat, raw with something brutally close to emotion.
My shadows flicker, shifting at the sound of my voice.
They know. They feel it too.
She’s a monster, just like me.
I step outside, the night swallowing me whole, grounding me in purpose again.
Jameson seems normal, but he’s not her equal. She’ll burn through him, just like all the other humans she’s been with. I’d buy tickets to watch Aurora hand this male his balls on a gilded platter. Because eventually, this Jameson will fuck up.
Male humans are disgusting pigs.
Yes, I’m aware I self-identify as a monster, but I’ve never raped a woman. I’ve never murdered a woman who didn’t deserve it. I’ve never stalked a woman to make her feel fear, and even now I watch Aurora to keep her safe. If she sensed my presence and seemed scared, I would back off immediately.
She is mine. But I will not force her. I will not break her. I will not twist her mind to see what I see.
She will realize, in time, and then come to me willingly.
Because I am the only one who can satisfy her. I am the only one who is her equal.
My shadows coil, pulsing around my wrists like shackles.
Are they agreeing with me? Issuing some kind of warning? I have no fucking clue. I don’t speak shadow gremlin.
I stroll through the woods, watching some of the shadows burrow under piles of dead leaves or slither up trees. Some, however, curl against my wrists and neck, nuzzling close in quiet comfort.
Wonderful. Half my shadows are chasing squirrels, while the rest are convinced I’m seconds away from emotional collapse.
They’ve been with me through blood-soaked battles, watched me topple empires, and helped me tear enemies limb from limb. But please, by all means, let’s cuddle like we didn’t bathe in blood yesterday.
I take up my usual position outside Aurora’s house at the tree line, shaking the sleeping shadows from my body.
I still don’t know what these inky fuckers are up to, but I need every part of me alert tonight. They’ve been twitchy all damn day, too aware of the things I haven’t said out loud.
Once I’ve convinced my shadows to settle at my feet, I glance at the little green cottage. Aurora is on the porch talking to the hellhound.
It’s almost as if she knows, somewhere deep in her soul, that Louie isn’t exactly a normal dog.
When the hellhound springs into the dark, I drift closer, helpless against her pull.
She’s leaning over the porch railing with a dreamy look on her face, staring at the night sky.
Her beauty is mesmerizing as the moonlight reflects off her freckled skin and her coppery hair waves in the autumn wind.
Once again, Aurora seems lost in her thoughts, leaving me curious about what occupies her mind.
The thing that links us pulls a little tighter, and something in my body shifts.
Damn it! They react to my thoughts and stalk toward her. When I call them back, I’m surprised to see the Irish wolfhound with the deer antlers, the Cù Fèidh. It’s an interesting amalgamation, something I’ve never seen before.
That night at the bookshop, my shadow reached out for her. I didn’t summon it. I didn’t think. And yet they twisted into woodland creatures and danced on the wall, each little beast a pathetic attempt to please her.
When I’m wearing the flesh suit, it takes a ridiculous amount of focus to pull my shadow beyond my body. Every movement has always been controlled.
But with Aurora, they didn’t wait for me. Something in them already belonged to her.
They twist in her orbit, the same way I do.
And when I got angry, when I put her in danger, it wasn’t the playful pieces that rose to protect her. It was the oldest part, the core of my shadow, that split off and chose the Cù Fèidh as her protector.
In that tense moment at the shop, she thought the shadow beast was my rage come to life.
But she was wrong.
The Cù Fèidh manifested to protect her … from me.
There’s something uniquely fucked-up in knowing your own body would happily turn on you and shred you down to bone if it meant shielding her.
To avoid harm, I tempered my anger before the creature attacked. I’m confident in my ability to fight, but to fight a piece of myself? I’m not sure I’d win.
I shiver as the beast returns to my body, making me feel whole again. When my gaze shifts back to Aurora, she’s staring straight at me even though I know she can’t see me hiding within the shadows. She whispers my name so softly the wind almost steals it before it reaches me.
My name on her lips makes me whimper, need sinking its claws in.
A tremor rolls through my shadows, raking across my gut—devouring the sound, savoring it like I do.
Just when I step forward, ready to go to her, Aurora turns, storms through the door, and slams it shut behind her.
About a minute later, a pickup truck turns into her driveway.
Fucking Jameson.
Finding out who Aurora was going on a date with was easy. Small towns talk, and Hettie and Candy talk the loudest. Hettie flirts. Candy glares. But they gave me what I needed.
The pig hauls his bulk out of the car, checks his reflection like he’s God’s gift, then struts up to her house. Minutes later, they leave through the front door, chatting and laughing.
Motherfucker.
That’s supposed to be me.
The shadows lash out, a barely contained, rage-filled, flickering snarl of ink.
They can’t stand this asshole either.
However, when he places his hand on the small of her back and she pulls away, a tiny part of me rejoices. The traitorous shadow bastards snap, recoiling so hard they shake the trees around me, scattering bright-colored leaves in a noisy, not-at-all subtle betrayal.
“Brilliant,” I mutter. “Lovely work, you twitchy little fucks.”
Even the dark turns toward her, like sunflowers reaching for light. Even me.
Aurora never shied away from me. Never flinched at my touch.
Until I fucked it up.
A shadow slithers over my shoulder, gently patting me. I rip it free, teeth bared, hating how much I need it.
Something about Jameson is a massive red flag, but it’s contradictory to everything I’ve learned about the man. So, I decide to follow Aurora on her silly little date and watch her squirm while she struggles to stay interested in this dullard.
Maybe I’ll even play with her a little like I did at The Cardinal. The thought of wrapping my Umbraeth around her again makes my cock instantly hard.
But then an unfamiliar buzz interrupts my fantasy, making me growl in frustration.
“Fucking cell phones,” I mutter, yanking it from my pocket.
Oh, goody. It’s Thane.
Which means something’s wrong.
“Ezra. I’m sorry to bother you, but we had a break-in at the shop. I’m not sure what’s happening. It doesn’t look like anything is missing, but the cops need you to get here as soon as you can. Christ, they broke the window, too. I’m so sorry.”
He’s out of breath and sounds like he’s teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.
“Are you okay, Thane? I hope you weren’t there when this happened.”
“Um … I’m okay, Ezra. Thanks for asking. I closed the shop around five, locked up, and then went to The Cardinal to meet Eve. I wasn’t there for more than an hour when the security company called me about the break-in.”
Once again, the bloody cosmos kicks me in the dick.
This is an issue only I can resolve. It’s my shop, after all. And Thane sounds very upset over the entire ordeal. But I don’t want to leave Aurora alone with the cave dweller who just drove off with her in his truck.
Shit! I’ll come back later to make sure she’s home safe and sound.
My shadows disagree. Violently.
They lash and coil like vipers, dragging at my ankles as I move away from her.
I grit my teeth and force them to submit. They don’t get a vote.
“I’m very glad you’re okay and that you weren’t there when this happened. Good store clerks are hard to find. I will be there in a few minutes so we can clear this up quickly.”
“Uh, right, okay. Thanks, Ezra. See you in a few minutes.”
After I hang up and curse the cosmos in every language I know, I head toward town, keeping to the shadows. The idea of small talk right now makes me feel murderous.
When I arrive at the shop, I immediately spot the two cop cars parked on the street, their blinding lights silently flashing.
The broken window of the shop frames Thane and two police officers deep in conversation.
The officers take notes while Thane stands with his arms folded and head bowed, his deep baritone drifting through the shattered glass.
Perfect. A crime scene.
Exactly what I wanted to deal with tonight. I should be watching Aurora right now, not babysitting cops and insurance agents.
But sure, let’s all waste my time instead.
It takes almost three hours to get through the bullshit—police reports, insurance claims, and every other mundane thing I can’t stand. With that nonsense finally out of the way, I move to the back of the shop to sift through the mess the intruders left in the antique books section.
The back room is a wreck. Broken shelves and scattered books cover the floor in a mess of wood and paper.
But even in the chaos, something doesn’t sit right.
Glass crunches under my boots as I step deeper into the wreckage. My shadows won’t settle, twitching like they know something I don’t.
After sweeping up the glass, I print an inventory sheet and start going title by title, crossing off each book, then placing them carefully back on the shelves.
The list dwindles. Slowly. Annoyingly. But it shrinks.
I reach the final few titles.
And then I see it.
A charm tangled in torn pages and splintered bindings, tucked between the debris.
I pluck it from the wreckage—a weathered metal emblem, no bigger than a coin, braided with dark hair streaked in silver and rose gold. I turn it over, eyes narrowing at the etching on its surface.
Intricate lines twist into a symbol I don’t recognize. Beneath it, words shimmer faintly, slipping from view when I try to read them.
Just as I’m about to give up, the words pull into focus.
The Unseen Lingers.
A cold pulse rips through me.
My grip tightens. My gaze snaps to the shattered case.
Nothing obvious is missing. Shelley, Stoker, Poe—all accounted for, if a little worse for wear.
But something still feels off.
My gaze shifts. And that’s when I see it.
The gap.
The little green book with the gold foil cake on its spine.
The one she fawned over for an hour.
Gone.
What the fuck?
My shadows surge, writhing and snapping, reacting before I can even process why.
Realization slowly sinks its teeth in, smirking around a mouthful of my ignorance.
“Shit … Aurora …”