Chapter 16 Aurora #3
“You aren’t Lucifer’s daughter,” he continues, his voice heavy enough to drag the truth into my bones.
“But you are a direct descendant of Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar, known as a Daughter of the Morning Star. You’re like me …
like Louie … except destined for more than either of us.
Fuck, Aurora, you were born with the kind of legacy that makes kings kneel and priests turn their backs on religion. ”
There’s no hesitation in his eyes. Just certainty. And something that looks a hell of a lot like worship. Real worship. Not the flirty kind mentioned in my dozens of Kindle books. The on-your-knees-before-God kind. The terrifying kind.
“You’re not just powerful, little lupine. You’re inevitable.”
Ezra’s thumb gently caresses my cheek, keeping me calm and focused.
“W-what does that mean? That I’m … a descendant of Lucifer? Am I evil? Am I like the anti-Christ?”
“No, little goddess, you are a shifter of reality. Your destiny is to unite the underborne and humans, transforming our world for the better. At least that’s what I believe.”
“Underborne?”
Apparently there’s a whole slew of unfamiliar words I need to learn, on top of recovering from Jameson’s assault and coming to terms with the fact that I’m not fully human.
“The supernatural creatures of the world, Aurora,” Ezra says. “Well, most of them. Angels and demons refer to themselves as ‘erevald.’”
His gaze drops for just a second, as though the truth tastes bitter every time he says it.
He scoffs, shaking his head. “And me? I’m neither. Just something spat from the void, before names had meaning. A cosmic fuck-up no one bothered to clean up.”
Ezra plants a soft kiss on my forehead, and all I want to do is melt into his arms again.
Can’t this wait until tomorrow? Or like, never?
Louie’s head snaps up while a threatening growl rumbles in her chest.
Ezra smiles against my forehead, his breath hot and sensuous as he whispers, “Be careful, hell-pup. We had a deal, remember?”
My gaze shifts to Louie. “A deal? What kind of deal?”
Louie bares her teeth, her voice twisting into a vicious snarl.
“This pretentious fucker came to me in the woods to ask for passage into our home because he plans to fu—”
The shift is instant. One minute, he’s flesh and heat, my body tucked against his. The next? Shadows curl around him, swallowing him whole.
When they dissipate, a massive black dog stands in his place.
Too long. Too lean. A nightmare wrapped in fur.
Everything about him is almost right. Almost. Like a god tried to remember what a dog looked like and got … close.
I should be terrified. But … I’m not.
The old stories echo in my head. Guardian of the dead. Keeper of the threshold.
I called him “Grim” before I ever knew the truth.
And now? I wonder if he’s always known me—not just the girl, but the atoms. The dust. The tiny eternal flicker that drifted through the stars before finding a body to call mine.
My ancient protector. My own Grim.
He found me in the dark. And dragged me back with teeth, claws, and blood.
Wait, are those tattoos peeking out from beneath the thin fur on the inside of his leg?
Is that a rabbit sitting in a field of clover?
The uncanny dog growls at Louie with a row of vicious-looking teeth. Drool drips on the floor, and blind rage emanates from his massive body.
Louie, ever my protector, jumps in front of me.
But Ezra won’t hurt me. I can stop this.
With slow, deliberate movements, I stand and carefully walk toward the massive black dog. Louie whines when I kneel in front of the bloodthirsty creature and gently place my hands on his beautiful, furry neck.
“Louie, I’m okay. Thank you for always protecting me. But this time, let me protect you. Ezra won’t hurt me.”
His eyes as a giant canine are the same steel grey as his human eyes. They’re fucking mesmerizing. The moment he turns his focus back to me, the storm swirling in them calms and his body relaxes.
“Ezra, my sweet Grim, will you change back and finish what you were telling me … please?”
The massive black dog huffs, shaking himself out as his shadows flick outward in mild irritation. Like Ezra is struggling to contain them even in this form.
I glide my hands across the smooth, glossy fur on his neck, stifling a giggle when his tail wags.
Ezra shifts, then uses my hand as leverage to pull me to him. He wraps his arms around me, leaning his head on my shoulder and angling his face toward me, so that his breath grazes my neck. It’s ragged and panicked.
When our bodies touch, his shadows press in, too, curling around the small of my back in an absentminded embrace. They shift like restless hands, uncertain but wanting.
Whatever connects us, whatever pulls when we’re apart, doesn’t hurt as much when I’m near him like this.
Ezra wouldn’t hurt me.
Not even as a terrifying black dog ripped straight from my nightmares.
But would he hurt Louie? Push him hard enough, and I’m not so sure.
“I’m sorry.” Ezra’s voice is low and hoarse. His fingers twitch against my skin as he holds me closer. “I try not to let my … more primal side take over. But I lost myself for a moment.”
His stormy gaze flicks to Louie, a hint of danger still rolling beneath the surface.
Reluctantly, I pull away from him and clear my throat, while I gently glide my fingers over the painful bruises on my neck.
“Okay, let’s set this deal aside for a moment.”
Ezra and Lou watch as I pace the length of my living room.
What does this all mean?
When I finally stop moving, I turn back to Ezra, who sits in my reading chair again, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“You said I’m inevitable, and talk like I’m meant to lead armies, but I can’t even stand up without shaking. So, where is it? Where’s the part that makes me more than just broken? Did my mother take that too? Or am I just … wrong?”
Ezra shifts restlessly in his seat, his shadows flickering at his feet, nervous echoes of his own discomfort. A tendril curls around the chair leg before snapping back into the dark.
He glances at Louie.
“What was that look for?” I ask, my tone sharper than intended.
For two creatures who can’t seem to stand each other, they’re fucking fantastic at keeping secrets. My patience at this point is almost non-existent and my neck hurts like a motherfucker.
“Ezra, mate, you can take this one.” Louie grins at Ezra.
At least, I think she does. Has she always had that many teeth?
Ezra glares at the hellhound before turning back to me, his features softening once more.
“Aurora, what I’m about to tell you may be a bit awkward, so I hope you’ll forgive me if my words come across as … hm … embarrassing or vulgar.”
He pauses there, waiting for my permission to continue.
“Okay …”
Ezra shifts, his jaw tight, eyes flicking to the side.
Is he blushing?
“This is according to folklore and notes from the Disciples, mind you,” he says, voice carefully neutral.
“I’ve never met a Daughter of the Morning Star, so I can neither confirm nor deny the information I’m about to give you. But …”
He pauses and takes a deep breath, his gaze flickering to mine with quiet hesitation.
Apparently, he thinks everyone is immortal and has all the time in the world.
“A Daughter comes into her power after her first sexual experience.”
He looks away. Just lets the silence bleed.
“Well, that’s some archaic bullshit,” I grumble under my breath.
Oh, fuck. He knows.
The hot tingle of embarrassment claws up my neck, just like he said it would.
But underneath that? So much goddamn anger I could scream.
If any of this is true, what a dumb fucking way to gain power. But after tonight, I think I understand. Sex is power. Jameson wielded it like a weapon and made me feel small.
But Ezra? Ezra’s touch at the bookshop was the opposite.
It was powerful. It made me feel powerful. It’s still archaic and misogynistic as hell. But maybe I’m beginning to understand what Lucifer and Lilith were striving for.
I just caught the wrong end of it.
Ezra takes a tentative step toward me, then thinks better of it, giving me space.
I’m out of my depth here, standing in a room with ancient creatures who live in a very different reality than I do … well, did.
Okay, Aurora. Time to address the massive elephant currently stampeding through the room.
“It’s kind of obvious I’m a virgin, isn’t it? I’m not ashamed of it. In fact, I’m proud I never settled for a shitty lay in some random dude’s basement.”
My eyes meet Ezra’s, which ignites the swirling grey tempest once again.
“But maybe it’s for the best that I’m still a virgin. I can’t be very dangerous if I don’t have any power. Wouldn’t they just leave me alone if I promised to never have sex?”
“No. They will continue to hunt you, Aurora. The Disciples know where you are now, and it’s only a matter of time until someone tries to kill you again.”
Meanwhile, Ezra’s shadows ripple, thickening into a shape that pulls itself from the wall—tall, lean, and stitched together from smoke and broken prayers.
The Irish wolfhound with antlers steps forward, slipping in and out of existence. Its massive form shifts as though reality itself isn’t sure if it should exist. It watches me, tilting its head as its shadowed eyes strip me bare.
Ezra doesn’t turn, doesn’t flinch. He merely nods to the creature, acknowledging its presence. One warrior to another. His shadows ripple in response, mirroring the gesture—a silent, otherworldly salute.
That thing watches him, then me, its antlers swaying as if caught in an unseen current. The beast dips its head, then sinks back into the dark, joining Ezra’s other shadows now gently curling at his feet.
“I guess everything Jameson said makes sense now … Oh, shit!”
I lunge for the windows, shoving the curtains aside. Cold air from the glass stings the tip of my nose, but I barely register it.