Page 95 of Vampire's Hearth

Cormac

“Rory, wait!” I called out, my heart pounding as I sprinted into the great hall, hoping to stop her. She crossed the room in front of me, not even glancing my way. I clenched my teeth as I contemplated what explanation I could give her. What words would excuse what I had done, the way I had treated her? I found none that would suffice before she led her friend into the stairwell.

My shoulders slumped as I walked back into the solarium, utterly defeated.

“I don’t know what to do, brother,” I muttered to Conall, who, without a word, made his way to the drink cart. The clink of glass echoed in the quiet room as he poured me a whiskey. He handed it to me, and I swallowed it in one burning gulp. Thefamiliar heat hit my throat, but the burn did little to ease the knot tightening in my chest. I had just watched her walk away. Could I ever hold her in my arms again and feel my lips on hers?

“Would you like to tell me what happened in Savannah?” Conall said quietly, refilling my glass without me needing to ask. His voice was steady as he spoke, but our fingers shook as he handed it to me. “Why is Rory wearing both pendants?” He laid his hand on my shoulder.

I hesitated. He knew why, yet he would force me to explain everything that made me fear the woman I loved would never again look me in the eye. After over a century, one of my brothers finally stood at my side.

“It was as she said,” I began, my voice tight. “After Amara cast the spell that revealed I was an O’Cillian, Aiden’s men attacked. One of them”—I inhaled deeply and stared into my glass—“killed her as she protected Rory.”

The room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick as I forced the words out. Conall’s hand dropped from my shoulder, his expression hardening even though he said nothing. I could still see the blood, the way Amara’s body crumpled in front of me, the helplessness that had rooted me to the ground.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the weight of Aiden’s deeds pressed in on me, suffocating. “I was already weak from the spell. Somehow, they knew when attack. They took me to Charleston.” I took another sip of the whiskey to calm my rising anger. “He knows we’re searching for the Cure. Somehow, he figured it out.”

Conall’s eyes widened. “Does he know Declan’s involved?”

I shook my head. “No, it was thanks to Declan that I’m here. Aiden confirmed the body at the warehouse was a message for me, a threat that I could end up that way as well if I refused to join him.”

Conall’s jaw tightened as he considered my words. His voice lowered. “If Aiden knows about the Cure, he won’t stop until he’s found.”

“I know,” I said. The last thing I wanted was to set Aiden off with a new mission to kill and destroy, and I feared I had done just that, now putting an innocent man’s life in danger. Did the man even know the power he held? I took in a sharp breath. “We have to find him first. It is the only way to protect him.”

“I agree.” Rory’s voice cut through the tension, bringing a fleeting smile to my lips. My shoulders relaxed from her presence in the room.

Jade walked close behind her, eyeing my brother and me, judging what we might do next. I couldn’t blame her, as the last time I had been in her presence, death had followed me. But I noticed the command Amara had held had transferred to Rory. She wore the mantle of power easily, and it suited her.

I stepped toward her. Desperation coursed through me, but I didn’t know how to fix this or undo the betrayal she must have felt. “I will do anything to make this right.” My voice was raw with emotion.

She held up her hand, a simple warning to come no closer. Under the icy veneer that shone in her eyes, I could sense the depth of her pain caused by my closeness. Her voice stayed flat. “I need your help.”

I nodded. “Anything.” My heart broke under her gaze and her lack of affection, but I had no one but myself to blame.

She held the grimoire in front of her, open to the page to find the Cure, the Gaelic words unreadable to her. I stood next to her—close enough to help but far enough apart to convey no intimacy between us. Conall hovered over my shoulder behind us, Jade on Rory’s other side. I translated the words, a language almost lost to time. As my eyes skimmed the page, a knot formedin the pit of my stomach, and my fate became clear. Perhaps her hatred was a blessing.

I swallowed hard. “Rory, the spell to find the Cure requires more than we thought.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean? Aunt Amara said we needed your essence.”

“That is a very poetic interpretation of the words here.” I pointed at the page. “Croí fuil. What you need isn’t essence. It’s heart blood. The heart blood of an O’Cillian son—coating ash wood.”

Jade reached out to steady Rory as her knees buckled beneath her. Her face paled, her voice trembling. “You mean one of you has to die?”

I nodded. She took a step back, her eyes moving between my brother and me. My voice was low. “That’s the only way to find the Cure. The High Priestess must stake one of us.”

Conall stepped forward, his usual calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal the storm beneath. “Brother, I’ve lived long enough. You have her. Let me do it.” His hands trembled as he spoke, and I saw the fear flash behind his eyes. He might stand there willingly offering his life, but he dreaded the finality of death, as each of us did. He tried to stand tall, but the weight of the centuries and our lives made him look smaller than I’d ever seen.

I shook my head as I gripped my glass, my heart pounding. Everything I had worked for over the past century to reunite my family was gone because of a ridiculous spell. Without them, without Rory, I was nothing, and my duty was to bring them together. If this was how it had to happen, it was my responsibility alone. “No. If death is required to put our family back together, then it will be mine and no one else. Do not speak of it again, Conall.”

Rory’s voice trembled as she whispered, “I don’t know if I can do this... How am I supposed to...?” Her words faltered as she grew pale, looking like she would collapse at any moment.

Her eyes darted between us, and I heard her heart racing as reality struck her. Not only would finding the Cure cost me my life but she would also be the one to take it.

I stepped toward her, my voice soft but steady, though fear twisted my stomach inside me. “Rory, I can’t make up for everything I’ve done. But this I can give to you. My heart’s blood will lead you to the Cure.”

Her eyes became glassy as she struggled to hold in her unshed tears. “There has to be another way,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation.

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