Page 51 of Vampire's Hearth

“You mean, as neutral as you are today, teamed up with and married to some of the hunters?”

I cringed, knowing he had a point but also knowing we had no other choice. I ignored his question. “What happened?” I asked, fearful of where this was going.

“The High Priestess became pregnant with her second husband’s baby. Unfortunately...”

I gasped. “The High Priestess died giving birth to her second daughter.”

Mac nodded solemnly, stopping and turning toward me, catching my gaze. “Yes. That was the beginning of the High Priestess curse.”

I dropped Mac’s arm as a pain stabbed my heart. “Then how can I ever…?”

I suddenly found myself looking around, recognizing the place we had stopped. A chill went down my spine. I couldn’t understand what this meant. The green fields stretched out around me, and there was a wall in the distance—the same one from my dream in the woods.

Mac took my hands in his. He looked deep into my eyes, his voice steady and reassuring. “The O’Cillian curse and your own are related but not the same. I fear that finding the Cure will not impact your curse.”

My heart and shoulders fell.

His finger lifted my chin so he could look into my eyes. “Aurora, I won’t let anything hurt you. We’ll figure out what needs to be done—why the curse happened and how to break it as well as find the Cure.”

I wanted to pull away, but I was lost in his gaze. More than anything, I wanted to believe him. Beyond the wall, the sun was setting, painting the sky in oranges, purples, and pinks. The cold breeze wrapped around me, and I could smell the sweet scent of his cologne as I felt his hand on the bare skin of my back, pulling me toward him.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice thin and strained.

“More than anything,” he said before his lips claimed mine. His hand held me close to him as I melted toward him, the heat of the moment engulfing me as I focused on how softly his lips touched mine, the hesitance, followed by a firmness that spoke to his own desire. A dampness spread between my legs, my body screaming of wanting more in a way I was afraid to confront. I knew I wasn’t alone as I felt the ridge of his cock hardening against me.

Gasping for breath, he broke away from me, resting his forehead on mine. “We should get back.”

The insects of the night sang their songs, the cold air enveloping me, taking away the warmth of Mac’s body pressedagainst mine. The moonlight danced on the dew-covered grass, more exquisite than it had been when it shone down upon me during the ritual that started this madness. My heart seemed to betray my deepest desires. Of course I wanted love, but I also wanted a marriage and children, regardless of my coven’s curse. How could I be stupid enough to believe that being with a vampire was something that could work?

I wanted to argue, to tell him to forget the world and take me where we stood as he had in my dream. Instead, I let him guide me by the hand, through the garden, the night heavy with the scent of roses—and my heart more conflicted than ever.

Aurora

Several days had passed in our search to find something—anything—that would lead us to the Cure. Mac, Conall, and Declan often spoke in hushed tones, conspiring with each other on where to look next, hoping to locate any information about the descendants of Donovan O’Cillian among the centuries of documents at the manor. Isla, the same one Mac had texted from Kentucky, scoured the county archives trying to find where Donovan’s family may have lived besides America, hoping to pick up the family line in another location, but it was as though they had disappeared.

Lyra rarely left our room unless it was to eat. Instead, she watched television and complained about being in a house full of vampires. I reminded her several times that she was freeto leave, but she would scoff and vow to me that her mother insisted she stay. She didn’t even want to join when Conall had shown me the cottage on the grounds, the original home of the Clan O’Cillian.

Periodically, Mac would bring me a journal or a document and ask if I could use it to dowse. My attempts always ended in disappointment, the air saturated with magic—an unrelenting hum that pressed against my senses no matter where I went. The ring on my finger sometimes burned, a sharp, fleeting pain that offered no explanation, only deepening my frustration. And even worse, Mac and I hadn’t discussed nor repeated our after-dinner walk, though his eyes would sparkle each time they met mine with unexplored emotions.

I pushed it from my head as I made my way to the drawing room where we had been gathering for our meals. Conall sat in his usual spot, nursing a warm beverage. In the middle of the table were empty mugs and a silver carafe. I approached and pointed at a chair.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

He looked up as though his abilities allowed him access to my spinning thoughts. His brow relaxed, and he had a gentle stillness about him. His lips held the faintest hint of a curl—a kindness I would never associate with an O’Cillian. “Not at all. It would be my pleasure. I had Joshua make some coffee for the Americans. Would you like that or tea?” He held his teacup up a little higher.

“Thank you.” I poured myself a cup of coffee from the silver carafe he pointed at. A sharp, acidic aroma rose with the steam, a reminder that it was a new day, and I vowed to be a part of locating the Cure. I hadn’t come here for vacation.

“Does everyone always sleep so late around here?” I asked. I had noticed it was practically noon by the time I had come downstairs.

Conall gave me a smirk. “You’re in a house full of vampires. We might walk in the sun, but we still prefer the night.”

I smiled and raised the cup to my lips, his words immersing me in the truth. The first sip emitted a warmth that settled the chill that had crept into my bones—a gentle hopefulness that my logical mind didn’t want to indulge. I stared into the glass, my fingers running along the rim.

Conall tilted his head, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow. “So what’s got you so contemplative?”

I shook my head, trying to dispel my insecurities about what was going on with Mac. “Probably nothing that would interest you.” The truth was, I wasn’t sure how much I could confide in him. He knew Mac and I were close, but how much did he know about the conflict swirling inside me? Still, I could feel his gaze on me, waiting for more.

“Mac told me he’s a dhampir,” I said slowly, testing the waters, “but he also mentioned that Aine isn’t a vampire. So does that make your family dhampirs too?”

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