Chapter 26 Aurora #2
“Christ, Aurora,” Ezra growls, stepping away from me and running his hands through his hair.
Looks like I won this round.
“If I don’t leave now, I’m afraid I never will. And that should worry you, little lupine.”
He grabs my hands, then plants a soft kiss on my lips before rushing out the door without looking back.
Ezra’s so intense—but in a way that makes me feel both untouchable and safe. He’s given me exactly what I need after Jameson—a sense of control.
Ezra let me rage, let me grieve, and never made me feel like I was too much.
So, what do I do with all of this? The pain. The peace. The softness. The rage. They’re all here, every one of them screaming for center stage.
I’m not ready to speak with Eve yet. I need to take some time for myself, allow my mind to settle, before I grovel at my best friend’s feet for forgiveness.
In the early morning darkness, I quickly make the bed, then decide to get cleaned up. When I step through the door, I groan with happiness when I see the huge, elegant shower and deep Jacuzzi tub.
All my toiletries are in the bathroom, neatly laid out and ready to use. I take a few happy minutes to arrange my things, then prepare myself for a long, hot bath.
When I look up, my smile falters. In the mirror, the bruises bloom darker than yesterday. They’re deep violet, nearly black.
Ugly reminders of Jameson’s hands.
Of the pressure and the fear.
My skin should be mine. I shouldn’t have to see him when I look at myself.
The bugs under my skin stir, rustling and skittering along muscle and marrow.
Then Jameson’s hands—his breath—crash into my mind like a fist to the ribs.
I want them out.
The pain. The memories. The fucking fear.
All of it.
But I can’t afford to break.
There’s Ezra. The underborne. The Disciples.
The power I was born into but never asked for.
The crown the previous Daughters abandoned, too heavy to carry.
But it’s mine now. And I’ll fucking claim it—for them.
Leaning against the bathroom counter, I take a deep breath to steady myself and calm the bugs. Since the attack on Friday night, I haven’t had a single free moment to myself. I haven’t really processed what happened.
I can sleep a little easier knowing Ezra devoured Jameson. He can’t hurt me anymore, at least not physically. But the Disciples are still out there, and as far as I know, they still want me dead.
The danger isn’t over. I know that.
But it’s not the next attack that terrifies me. It’s the quiet in between.
The silence isn’t peace. It’s a fucking invitation. Room for Jameson to crawl into my head and scream his lies through the void.
Ezra is gone. Louie is unconscious. Eve doesn’t know—and she can’t. Not about the supernatural bullshit, anyway. She can handle the human mess, the trauma, but not this.
I’m alone.
My breath stutters, chest cinching until it feels like the air won’t fit.
It starts as a tremor in my fingertips, then spreads.
Cold. Clawing up my arms. Down my spine.
Is this who I am now? … No, because fuck that.
I refuse to let that sentient, man-shaped pile of micro-penises haunt me every time the world goes still. Jameson’s attack will always haunt me, but I’m stronger than that … stronger than him.
When I look in the mirror again, the woman who stares back looks fierce and determined.
She looks like fucking royalty.
The razor-sharp edge of my panic attack softens, my breaths become deeper, and my heart slows.
When I finally feel like myself again, I sink into a scorching bath filled with eucalyptus and mint-scented bubbles. Every knot, bruise, and sore muscle initially screams against the heat, then slowly loosens, softens, and lets go.
I connect my phone to the Bluetooth speaker Ezra grabbed from my bathroom at home and allow my mind to wander while “Aqua Regia” by Sleep Token plays hypnotically in the background.
This is what happens when you fuck around with ancient shadow daddies and Spotify shuffle.
Of course it’s this song. It always is when I’m just unstable enough to need it.
And this morning?
This morning, I need the sexy piano ballad wrapped in an existential crisis to remind me that feeling everything is still better than feeling nothing.
The melody isn’t just in my ears—it curls around me, bar by bar, note by note, dangerous and divine.
It presses into my skin, sears through my bones, scorching the skittering bugs along the way.
Wildflowers slip from my bloodied hands, replaced by the cold steel of a sword.
This isn’t a song; it’s a prophecy, an ancient embrace.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m ready to answer it.
My fist curls at my chest, resisting the urge to rip my ribcage open just to see what’s still beating inside.
Instead, I sit here thinking about how Sleep Token single-handedly convinced me that being emotionally rearranged and sexually obliterated by a man in a mask is a valid lifestyle choice.
I take thirty blissful minutes to soak in Ezra’s massive tub, then finally force myself to get out and start my day.
My very strange day.
Which includes checking on my hellhound who is now in a human body, as well as calling my hysterical best friend to let her know the guy she set me up with tried to rape and murder me.
Christ, two days ago, my life mostly made sense. Now, it’s just a chaotic, but admittedly beautiful, mess.
Pulling on a comfy oversized T-shirt and a pair of running shorts, I tiptoe down the hallway to Louie’s room.
“Lou? Are you awake?”
I wait a few seconds with my ear pressed against the door.
Shit, I guess she’s still out. I really fucking miss her.
Maybe some coffee and breakfast will help the yucky feeling still crawling under my skin. When I enter the kitchen, I realize Ezra wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t have any food.
I seriously doubt he’s ever used this kitchen, at least not how it’s meant to be used. The meager pile of snacks Ezra brought from my house looks severely out of place in his empty, sterile kitchen. At least he grabbed my coffee!
It takes almost twenty minutes to find a coffee machine in Ezra’s barren house.
The fact that I found one is a miracle. He has appliances and kitchenware, but they’re brand new, boxed up, and stored in his pantry.
Thankfully, this coffee pot has a reusable filter, so I set everything up and bounce on my toes while the coffee brews.
There’s exactly one mug in Ezra’s entire damn house, and it says, “I like big books, and I cannot lie.”
I stare at it for a second, then burst into an unladylike snort-laugh that echoes off the stone counters.
This is so anti-Ezra in every way. I bet Thane gave this to him as a gag gift.
Except … Ezra doesn’t seem like someone who would keep a silly, sentimental present.
Wait.
Unless he kept it because Thane gave it to him.
Well, that’s fucking adorable.
While I sit at the kitchen island, I sip my coffee and begin a grocery list. When I’m certain I’ve covered the basics, I grab my mug and wander through the house.
To say Ezra’s living room is stunning is the understatement of the century. Somehow, I missed that when I tried to kill the vampire. Guess I got distracted …
The reflective glass makes up two of the three walls, which are situated right along the edge of the woods. Ezra’s right; the floor-to-ceiling windows really create the illusion of being outside.
The third wall is a built-in bookshelf packed with every genre of book imaginable. I spend a few blissful moments browsing, but when my gaze drifts toward the comfy-looking couch and coffee table, something catches my eye.
Are those my copies of 1Q84 and The Only Good Indians?
I brush my fingers over the familiar tear in the cover of 1Q84.
Proof that it’s mine.
That Ezra didn’t just grab books; he grabbed my books.
I sink into the overstuffed couch with a happy sigh, my book clutched to my chest.
But just as I settle, my phone blares, breaking the quiet with all the grace of shattering glass.
Crap.
I already know who it is.
My fingers hover over the screen before I exhale sharply. I remind myself that I am, in fact, a badass bitch … then swipe to answer.
“Finally! What the actual fuck, Aurora? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Blink twice if you’re being held hostage. I’ve been trying to call for an entire day! No one’s heard from you, Louie isn’t at your house, and we stopped by Ezra’s—”
Eve pauses, then mutters under her breath, “Shit, I just told you to blink twice, like I could even see you.”
She inhales deeply, then asks softly, “Wait. Did you even make it home from your date?”
Eve sounds pissed … and worried. I really fucked up. Her panic is just love dressed up like fury, so I approach the conversation as gently as I can.
“Hey, Eve. I’m, uh, really sorry I scared you. I’m okay, and I have Louie with me. It’s … kind of a long story—”
Eve cuts me off while Thane asks about me in the background.
“I’ve got all damn day. Give me the highlights now, but I need proof of life. You’re meeting us at The Cardinal later for dinner, okay? I’ve been so worried!”
Eve sobs into the phone while Thane gently consoles her. I’m glad she didn’t have to go through this alone.
Now, how the hell am I going to tell Eve about Jameson without making her feel guilty? Strip away the supernatural, water it down all I want, he’s still a monster. She’ll blame herself no matter what.
“So, my date with Jameson did not go well. I don’t know how to say this, but he, um, assaulted me and kind of tried to kill me. I’d be dead if Ezra hadn’t been out for a late-night walk. He saved my life. That’s where I am now … his house. I’ve been asleep since late Friday evening.”
It’s a version of the truth, at least.
“What … the fuck. But we stopped by yesterday, and no one was there. So … nice, sweet Jameson, the guy who texted you non-stop, tried to kill you, and dark daddy Ezra saved you? Shit, I’m so sorry, Aury. You wouldn’t have been in that situation if I hadn’t pushed you into it.”
“It’s not your fault, Eve. Jameson was very charming until he drugged me, forced his dick down my throat, then tried to strangle me. Heh.”
Silence. Absolute silence.
Then a sharp inhale, like Eve’s trying not to scream.
I’m really glad I didn’t mention the oral castration.
“Shit, Aury. Do you want us to pick you up and take you home? I’m sure you’re exhausted. And you should probably see a doctor.”
Huh, I never actually considered that.
Aside from the bruises and, ya know, the whole near-death trauma spiral, I’m just peachy.
Probably shouldn’t say that out loud.
“Oh! Yeah, that’s probably where we were when you stopped by yesterday.”
I’m counting on Eve’s bullshit detector being offline this morning—because odds are, we were dealing with that asshole wrakh when they came by.
“I was really out of it, but Ezra made me go to the hospital to get checked out. I don’t remember much from yesterday.
But, um, Ezra told me I could stay here for a few days.
I don’t want to go back to my house so soon after being attacked in my own driveway.
But if you could pick me up for dinner, I’d appreciate it.
And, E … I’m so sorry. I just wasn’t thinking straight after the attack. If Ezra hadn’t found me …”
Seriously, if Ezra hadn’t found me, I would have suffered, then died—painfully and violently.
I guess badass supernatural queens can cry, too. Right?
“We’re good, Aury. I’m so fucking sorry I pushed you to go out with Jameson. I’m just so relieved you’re safe.”
She pauses. I can practically hear the wheels in Eve’s head turning at light speed.
I brace myself for the question I already know she’s going to ask next.
“So, you’re staying at Ezra’s place. With Ezra?”
“Heh, yeah. I’m staying with Ezra,” I say lightly, but my voice catches just enough to make Eve inhale sharply.
“Bitch.”
“What?”
“You’re fucking him.”
“What? No! He just … saved me. He had to go out of town for a few days, so he said it might be safer if I stay here. See? I’m all by myself.”
Well, at least until Louie wakes up.
Somewhere behind Eve, Thane yells, “Did she just say Ezra went out of town? He knows he owns a business, right? Like … a real fucking business? With customers? And an employee who should probably know when his boss bails?”
Eve quietly calms Thane with the voice she uses on irate customers.
I hear Thane huff, then mutter, “Unbelievable. Next time he pulls this shit, I’m stealing his espresso machine as payback.”
They mumble and whisper on the other end of the line as they quietly discuss something.
Then Eve says, “Ah, okay. Well, as long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.
Thane seems relieved that you’re at Ezra’s house, which is strange but comforting.
He says it’s a fortress, whatever the hell that means. We’ll pick you up around five.”
“Great! I’ll be ready!”
“Girl, be as ready as you want. But you can bet your ass I’m coming inside to snoop,” Eve says, sounding calmer and more like herself.
“Oh, please do, E. Ezra has so many dark, brooding corners. Maybe you’ll find his ‘Creepy Bookshop Owner’ Starter Pack. I bet it comes with a candle that smells like ‘Suspiciously Clean Bleach’ and a cursed tome that kills you in seven days,” I say with a giggle.
Eve snorts. “Let’s be real. Not finding a cursed tome would be the real twist. And I swear to God if I find a single tarp in his house, you’re moving in with me.”
I laugh, tension melting from my shoulders. “You’d fight Ezra for custody?”
“Girl, I’d win.”
“Gonna pop some popcorn for that show.”
“Someone’s gotta keep you safe. Okay, rest up and take care of yourself. We’ll see you at five!”