Chapter 16 Aurora #4
Jameson’s truck sits at the edge of my driveway, swallowed in shadows. Both doors hang wide open. He’s not in the truck. My heart slams against my ribs, my vision going pinprick sharp.
He’s not in the truck.
Where the fuck is he?
“What does Jameson have to do with this? Is he human? How did he know what I was before I did?”
My eyes fill with tears again as my body shakes violently.
Ezra’s by my side in an instant, wrapping himself around me, his hand rubbing my back in calming circles.
His shadows curl around my shoulders, hesitant at first, then firm, like hands pressing comfort into my bones. One trails up my spine before vanishing, as if reluctant to let go.
The shaking finally stops, and I sink my body into his.
Was I wrong about him?
Ezra feels safe, his hands feel kind, and his warmth brings me peace.
“Jameson was human, Aurora. He belonged to an organization called the Disciples—”
“The Disciples of Humanity’s Light,” I whisper into Ezra’s shoulder.
Ezra keeps tracing those peaceful circles on my back, making me want to purr in his ear.
He leans back so he can look into my eyes.
“Did he tell you who the Disciples are? Did he tell you what he was?”
“I-I noticed a tattoo of a flower on his wrist and commented on it. He told me that some cult he was in as a child used it for their ceremonies. To keep monsters away. In a fucked-up way, I guess he told me the truth. I just didn’t listen.”
Haunting images of hands wrapped tightly around my neck invade my thoughts while hot, angry tears stream down my face again.
Louie’s there in a heartbeat, nosing at my hand, grounding me with steady warmth and the kind of patience only she can manage.
“Nothing that happened tonight is your fault, Aurora,” Ezra says. “Jameson was, from what I can tell, a highly ranked hunter in the Disciples. He had access to magic and secrets meant to kill the underborne. That’s how he found you.”
“Oh …”
Nothing about this makes any sense.
“Where is he now?”
Louie and Ezra exchange a conspiratorial look, then Louie says, “Ezra took care of that monster.”
He looks away from me for a long moment. When his eyes return to mine, there’s a hint of regret now swirling within the storm.
Ezra exhales slowly, eyes flicking to mine, gauging my reaction.
“Aurora, I must tell you something about myself. Something that may earn me another well-deserved ‘fuck off.’”
He pauses. His throat moves as he swallows, which is super distracting.
“Just know that I would honor your request, but I will never stop protecting you, even if it’s from a distance.”
He waits, allowing what he just said to sink in. I should be nervous. Maybe I am.
But honestly? What more could there be?
It’s been a seriously fucked-up night. My neck is throbbing, and I’m exhausted.
“Can we skip the cryptic shit and get to it? I’d really like to go to bed.”
My little flame of rage flares back to life. I was afraid I lost it after my ordeal with Jameson, but it feels stronger than before.
Plus, I’m proud I took that motherfucker’s dick while he screamed like a little bitch.
Maybe that’s why Ezra’s touch doesn’t disgust me the way it should.
Ezra looks startled. But he doesn’t hesitate.
“I … fuck … I can only consume human flesh. I’ve tried animal flesh, but it makes me ill.
For the past few thousand years, though, I’ve dined solely on those who have done terrible things like murder, rape, child abuse, and the like.
And before you get any ideas about me being some sort of hero, I only do this because they taste better than other humans.
Tonight is the first time I consumed someone outside of my feeding cycle.
Jameson had to die for what he did to you, so Louie kept watch while I took my time devouring him.
His flesh was so sweet, Aurora. He caused a great deal of pain and death during his short, pathetic life. ”
He looks ashamed, but there’s something else there, too—something lurking behind his stormy gaze. A dark tendril snakes along his wrist, pulsing once in inky comfort before sinking back into his skin.
“So, you currently only eat people who hurt other people? And they taste better?”
Did I somehow lose my ability to access the logical part of my brain? Because his diet of the wicked and cruel doesn’t bother me as much as it should. Even if it is self-serving.
“Yes, Aurora. I only feed about every three months. When the hunger hits, I find someone on the trail. Usually someone trying to outrun the shit they’ve done.”
Ezra obviously finds the hunt thrilling. And to my utter surprise, I wonder if he’d let me join him.
“Good. I hope you made him suffer, Ezra. I hope he screamed and cried and begged for his disgusting, insignificant life.”
But it isn’t just rage I feel. The way his blood slid over my face—the heat of it, the taste of it—should disgust me.
But it doesn’t.
Not even a little.
Ezra wraps me up in his arms again, his breath hot against my ear, as his shadows slither along the couch and pool behind me like something half-awake but listening.
“Oh, he begged and screamed for me, little lupine.”
Why does it feel like he could pin me to the floor with nothing but his voice and a blood-soaked hand grazing my cheek?
A teasing nip at my ear sends heat pooling between my thighs, and something—a shadow, maybe—brushes against my lower back, a fleeting, possessive touch before retreating.
“H-how did you know I was in trouble?”
I rest my head on his chest again as my eyes droop with exhaustion. His body is so deliciously warm, the heat seeps into every aching part of me.
“Ah, well, the book you were salivating over in my shop? The one that called to you? It was missing after a break-in tonight.”
A shadow slowly slides over the armrest of my couch, deliberate as a predator considering its next move. It coils, then flicks away, curling back around Ezra’s wrist.
“I don’t know if the intruders took it … or if it disappeared on its own.”
Ezra’s voice lowers, stripped of its usual armor.
“But the moment I realized it was gone, I knew something was wrong. That you were in trouble. I won’t let anything like this happen to you again, Aurora.”
Ezra nuzzles my neck, carefully avoiding the more tender spots.
He unwraps his arms and takes a few steps back, leaving me cold and anxious. The yawn I’ve been trying to stifle finally breaks free.
Shit, it’s almost one in the morning.
“You should get some rest, Aurora. Everything else can wait until tomorrow. Ezra knows where the front door is,” Louie growls.
I rest my hand on Louie’s back while Ezra nimbly moves around my kitchen, refilling the ice packs for my neck.
My body was just violated in an unimaginable way. But it could have been so much worse if it weren’t for the monster currently fighting with the childproof lid on my Advil bottle.
But I feel all kinds of fucked up and need to discuss this with someone I trust.
“Ezra,” I whisper as I enter the kitchen.
“Yes, Aurora?”
When he turns around, I notice the broken Advil bottle in his hands. Ezra gives me a shrug and a small smile.
“Would you mind waiting here for a little while? I want to take a shower and would like some time with Louie.”
“Whatever you wish, Aurora. May I use your reading chair and borrow a book while I wait? You have quite the collection.”
Something inside of me is so goddamn pleased when he says that.
“Of course, Ezra. Help yourself. I’ll try to be quick.”
As I walk away, Ezra gently grabs my hand, then softly kisses each knuckle.
“I’ll be here,” he whispers.
“Louie?”
The hellhound trots back to the bathroom as I trail behind her, idly running a finger over my knuckles.
Jesus Christ. I’m in deep fucking trouble.
When I enter the bathroom, the bloody woman in my mirror makes me freeze in horror.
That’s me. I barely recognize myself.
Blood smears my skin, dark and cracked where it’s dried. One eye looks like it bled beneath the surface—red veins spiderwebbing across the white, blooming like fractures in glass.
Blue-black bruises crawl up my throat, each fingerprint sharp as frostbite burned into my skin.
They could have warned me. I look like a zombie extra in a low-budget horror flick.
And Ezra still looked at me like he wanted to devour me.
What the hell is wrong with him?
“Christ, Lou. Why didn’t you tell me I looked like this?”
“Didn’t seem important.”
The hellhound turns in a few circles before curling up on the bathroom floor.
The three of us are going to have a long talk about honesty in the coming days.
But first? I’m going to puke.
I hit the tile hard, throw open the toilet lid, and everything—dinner, the drugs, fear, whatever’s left of my sanity—comes up in hot, violent heaves.
Louie shifts closer with a soft whine, pressing her body to my side like a living shield.
“Are you okay, Aurora? Should I get the billion-year-old thing sitting in our living room for you?”
A broken laugh slips free, sharp and wrong as it echoes off the toilet bowl. I slide back until my spine hits the vanity and let my head hang.
“I need to know, Lou. Can I trust him?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
Louie’s body tightens, every muscle primed to defend me, whether the threat ever comes or not. “Did he save your life? Sure. Did he enter our home without your permission? Yep. Was it my fault he did that? Yeah …”
“Wait. Was that the deal you two were fighting over? You allowed him to walk into our home while I was fast asleep? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I wanted to keep my fucking life, Aurora! He promised not to harm you and would only touch you with your permission. He kept that promise, right?”
“Well, kind of.”
“What the fuck does ‘kind of’ mean, Aurora?”
Louie’s ears twitch while her lips lift into a terrifying snarl.
“I-I was dreaming of him … touching me. In my dream, I begged him for more. And, well … he listened.”
My face is on fire with shame.