Page 82 of Vampire's Hearth

Why were they attacking him? Didn’t they come to help him? My heart raced, and my eyes grew wide as I watched him struggle.He’s not safe. Not even with his own kind.

Mac let out a grunt and rolled forward, throwing the vampire off him. His movements were slower than usual, weakened by the magic, but he was still fierce. Grabbing one of the fallen stakes, he swung with everything he had, sending the vampire flying across the clearing. But it wasn’t enough. The vampire got back up, eyes locked on Mac with deadly intent.

I darted between the vampire and Mac, my voice cold and commanding. “What do you want?”

More vampires were closing in, circling us like predators. Their eyes were not focused on the witches but on Mac. Amara moved to my side.

The lead vampire sneered. “We don’t want you, witch. We want him.” My stomach twisted as the vampire pointed at Mac.

My eyes narrowed. “And what do you plan to do with an O’Cillian?”

The vampire’s grin widened. “I don’t need an O’Cillian. I just need Cormac.”

The name hit me like a blow. Cormac. And they weren’t here to help him. They were here to take him.

Magic flared from my fingertips, and the vampire collapsed, writhing in pain. “He is ours,” I said icily, focusing all my energy on him. Out of the corner of my eye was a movement I didn’t quite register.

“No.” Amara’s cry echoed. Her body whipped around, turning in front of me, her gaze full of pain, sorrow, regret, and love, catching mine as her back absorbed the blow of the vampire diving toward me, throwing her to the ground.

“Amara.” I shrieked, magic crackling at my fingertips, ready to help her. My eyes blurred with fear as she and the vampire rolled across the ground. I couldn’t get a clear shot.

And then I heard the scream. It sounded like it was from far away instead of right there. Amara’s scream—sharp, piercing, cutting through the chaos as the vampire bit into her neck.

Mac roared and launched himself at the vampire, ripping him off Amara. His strength was flagging, but his determination was unstoppable. He yanked the vampire back, fingers digging into his chest, and with a savage twist, Mac tore out the creature’s heart.

The still beating heart cascaded blood over Mac’s hand as the remaining vampires pounced on him, grabbing his arms and forcing him down.

“Leave me!” Mac shouted, his voice hoarse.

“Not bloody likely,” one of them snarled as they dragged Mac toward the trees with lightning speed.

I ran after them, my lungs burning, but they were too fast. They knew the land—they had planned this. Within moments, they disappeared into the shadows of the woods, and Mac was gone.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I turned back to the clearing, my eyes darting to where Amara lay, her blood soaking into the earth. I needed to help her, but my heart raced after Mac, knowing I might never see him again if I didn’t save him soon.

Aurora

My thoughts were torn in two as I ran back to where Amara lay, surrounded by our closest family. Lyra kneeled at her side while Willow pressed against the gaping wound in her neck. Silence hung in the air. Not even the sounds of the night insects could be heard.

“Mama, you have to,” Lyra cried, her voice shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Amara winced as she shook her head. “I won’t. I can’t.” Her throat rattled as she struggled to fill her lungs.

My breath caught in my chest. This couldn’t be happening. I took a small step forward, shock making my fingers numb.

“Mama, please,” Lyra begged. She was no longer the hard and unfeeling woman who stood between Mac and me, but a child full of fear.

Evangeline rushed to my side, placing her hand in the center of my back, urging me forward. “Quickly, go to her.”

I closed the gap between Amara and myself and fell to my knees at her side, sinking to the ground the way my heart sank in my chest. My fingers trembled as I took her free hand in mine. She looked so small, her power seeming to have drained from her. She turned her face toward mine. Her voice was weak and raspy as she spoke. “Aurora…”

I glanced at Lyra. Her tears shimmered in the candlelight. Her voice was pleading, her hatred momentarily forgotten. “She won’t drink the blood.”

I shook my head, struggling to process her words. “What do you mean?”

My mouth fell open as I spotted the cloth in Willow’s hands. Amara’s blood coated both the fabric and Willow’s fingers. My breath shuddered as I attempted to draw in oxygen. There was no time—an ambulance wouldn’t make it here in time. The only way to save Amara was for her to drink the blood we’d taken from Mac, the blood we’d used to complete the spell.

The cleansing air flowed in through my lips, expanding my chest and steeling my resolve. “Amara, you have to drink,” I begged, my voice cracking, betraying my fears as I tightened my grip on her hand. “I’ve already lost one mother. I can’t lose you too.”

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