Chapter 39 Aurora
Aurora
My rage simmers, controlled but far from quelled. That soul-eating bitch better pray we never meet.
I inhale deeply, searching for some sunlit slice of peace, when Emme slithers forward.
A purr vibrates at the back of my mind, whispering delightful things we could do to Vesna. I can feel the vampire’s blood dripping from my hands, her black heart thump-thumping in my palm.
Maybe that ancient war cunt taking up space in my skull isn’t all bad.
She mentioned the Vermilion Maw last night, when she first woke up in my head. I didn’t think much of it at the time. But when Ezra said it a few minutes ago, I felt her attention shift.
Now she’s smirking, that cruel little curl in the dark that makes me want to punch my own frontal lobe.
Once my fiery form fully recedes, the three of us pile into my car and set off for Iain’s house once again. I turn the radio on and hum along to “Control” by Halsey to distract myself from the thought of dealing with that asshole wrakh again.
After a week alone in my own head, it’s kind of nice having my shadow monster boyfriend tracking my every move, his stare memorizing what a week without me tried to erase.
His hand slides up my thigh, a quiet challenge to anything that might try to tear us apart.
The eddies aren’t impressed. Eddy #1, the boldest little shadow, trails up my neck, curling at the base in a coil of lazy contentment. Eddy #2, cheeky as ever, slides up the back of Ezra’s hand, giving his wrist a nudge-nudge, like C’mon, do something.
Ezra huffs a quiet laugh, ignoring their blatant meddling.
His shadowy council of savage suitors coils around him, their sightless gaze unwavering. They track every movement, every breath, terrified I might disappear.
How could I not name Ezra’s fucked-up little army of handsy voidlings.
Collectively, they’re the eddies.
After Eddie Brock from the Venom comics.
Yeah, I’m a nerd.
Whatever.
Every little shadow has its own personality, each becoming more distinct by the hour. The only thing they seem to have in common is a disturbingly sweet obsession with me.
Plus, they’re so fucking adorable.
“Have you heard from Luca yet? Are they safe?”
Ezra has a sibling. Which feels … wrong. As if the world wasn’t already maxed out at one traumatized, man-eating shadow monster.
But Astrid exists. And Luca? He sounds like the perfect salve for her battered soul.
I wonder if there are more?
“Yes, darling. They’re safe. Luca sent a message this morning.
Astrid’s still healing and apparently happier since meeting me.
Surprising, really, considering she broke my face.
They’ve found a place in Northern Pennsylvania, so they won’t be stuck in that dreadful slaughterhouse much longer,” Ezra says, squeezing my thigh.
Eddy #3, the shy one, twitches at the motion, trailing after Ezra’s fingers before snapping back, guilty it got caught. I know seeing Iain is important, but I would much rather spend the day in bed being worshipped by Ezra.
“And Thane? When do you plan to tell him you know what he is? To find out why he’s here.”
Ezra sighs, turning to the window, probably hoping to spot Bigfoot and the Mothman making out over a table set for high tea so he doesn’t have to answer me.
His shadows twitch, something uneasy rippling through them. One coils tightly around his wrist, while another slinks toward his ribs, desperate to disappear.
“I will deal with it, little lupine. But not today.”
His voice is soft and thoughtful. And maybe a little scared.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think the ancient shadow monster is afraid of losing a friend.
“I guess I should talk to Eve, too. She deserves to know who she is,” I say, chewing on my lip.
Eddy #1 grazes my chin, obviously concerned I might hurt myself.
“When will you speak with her?” Ezra asks softly.
“I’ll deal with it, Grim. But not today,” I smirk.
Eddy #2 flicks smugly toward my chin, like he’s saying, Good girl.
Ezra chuckles softly, but his fingers tighten on my thigh. Just a little.
In the rearview mirror, Louie nods along to something loud, her headphones barely muffling the aggressive, bass-heavy song bleeding through.
When she asked about music, I handed her Spotify and watched the obsession take root.
I gave her a few suggestions, but Louie found her own path—female-fronted metal.
Something raw.
Something that thrashes under her skin and bares its teeth.
Her lips move silently, smirking around her fangs, and I grin.
It’s the first thing that’s truly hers. No trace of me, no tether to Hell, no mark of magic. Just Louie. And I love that for her.
My ancient car wheezes into the wrakh’s driveway, rattling ominously before sputtering to a stop. I have no clue what to expect this time. Iain was a complete dick when we were here a few days ago, although it seemed like he warmed up to me toward the end of our meeting.
I steal a glance at Iain’s house. The rubber duck wreath is gone.
In its place is a massive grapevine monstrosity covered in My Little Ponies, each figure haphazardly glued in place. I wonder if they hold some obscure magical purpose. Or is Iain just that fucking strange?
I turn back to Ezra, who gives me a tight-lipped smile. His shadows flicker across his chest, sniffing out trouble.
Not real danger. Just Iain. Which, honestly, is fair.
Still, they’ve met him before. They know he’s a prick, not a threat. So why are they so twitchy?
“I suppose I should take the lead here, although I’m feeling quite out of depth when it comes to you, Aurora.”
“I know the feeling. Maybe Iain’ll give us a few pointers and agree to create the magical wards on your property without being a total prick this time.”
Sure.
And maybe some magical accident will wipe out the Disciples tonight.
We both know Iain will be a total shithead.
Aside from magic, it’s the only thing he seems good at.
Reaching behind me, I tap Louie on the knee, letting her know it’s time to get out.
The second our feet hit the ground, Iain bursts from the house, wrath wrapped in a Care Bears T-shirt and ready to throw hands.
“What the fuckin’ fuck are you doing back already? You’re trespassin’, and I’m one breath away from wakin’ the thing in the well and lettin’ it stretch its legs!”
I blink.
The thing in the well?
What the fuck is in the well? And why the hell does it have legs to stretch?
Of course, he says it like he’s threatening to unleash a guard dog.
Oh, Lorewood. You beautiful bastard.
Iain’s Care Bears T-shirt is so tight I can see the tattoos beneath it, inked along every line of muscle. His basketball shorts hang low, revealing a frankly irresponsible amount of V-line.
Ezra goes rigid beside me, shadows rising like a curtain about to block my view. I elbow him before they can commit whatever possessive nonsense they’re plotting.
And that’s when I notice the scars. Faint but jagged, cutting across the tattoos beneath the fabric and down his legs—evidence of a life that’s been anything but easy. I wonder what terrible things he’s lived through to earn scars like that.
My heart might break for him … if he weren’t the human equivalent of stepping on a LEGO at 3 a.m. on your way to pee.
The wrakh charges at Ezra, but I step in front of him, place my hands behind my back, and flash him my sweetest smile. Iain comes skidding to a halt, standing nose to nose with me.
“Hello, Iain. It’s so nice to see you again.”
All I have to do is contain my rage and be nice to the motherfucker.
Can’t be that hard, right?
Iain lunges for me, dragging me into a death-hug, his hands flitting over my arms, my waist, my thighs.
I glance at Ezra, who watches with the kind of stillness that makes galaxies nervous.
Then Iain cups my ass. Again.
Oh, come on. At this point, I’d take the thing in the well over this handsy prick.
Ezra growls low, a sound too old to be human.
His shadows lash out before either of us can react, lunging toward Iain’s fingers with lethal intent. They stop just shy of snapping bone, shivering with frustration as Ezra reins them in at the last possible second.
That’s when I shove him away as hard as I can, and accidentally send him flying across the yard.
Oh … Whoops.
“Shit,” I whisper, rushing toward the grabby asshole I just body-checked with my rage magic.
“I’m so sorry, Iain. I didn’t know that would happen.”
I reach out to help him up, but he slaps my hand away with an angry scowl.
Ezra’s there in a rush of shadows, towering over Iain with his hand wrapped tight around his neck.
“Iain, why must we do this every time we meet?” Ezra growls, removing his hands from the wrakh’s throat, then helping the insufferable asshole to his feet.
The eddies aren’t so forgiving. One shadow hovers over Iain’s chest, twitching, debating whether to sink in.
Ezra exhales sharply. The shadow ripples in frustration, then reluctantly retreats, curling back against him.
“You said you’d help her, Iain, that all she had to do was ask.” Ezra’s voice is smooth, but absolute. “Well? She’s asking.”
He steps forward, shadows lapping at his feet. “We both know there’s trouble brewing. You feel it. So, enough bullshit. Enough posturing. I trust you and your magic. Or I wouldn’t have brought her here.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Ezra. Every time you darken my doorstep, my life turns to shite,” Iain grumbles, yanking at his shorts only for them to slide right back down his narrow hips.
“Hello, little blackbird. Back so soon? I see you’ve fucked the ancient monster then. And now you’ve got yourself a fancy little shifter tattoo, eh? Christ, girly, you’re a walking death wish.”
He presses a smug kiss to my knuckles, his roguish grin practically asking for a throat punch.
“You’ve got some serious power running through that tight little body of yours, sweetheart,” Iain purrs, wrapping his arm around my waist.
The eddies don’t take this lightly. One slides between his fingers and my ribs, forcing space between us with an almost disdainful flick.