her body now super tense. Her heartbeat changed too; it’s pounding a little slower, almost as if it’s suddenly heavier. The crazy need to pull her to my side and soothe whatever is distressing her is almost too much to bear. But she will push me away if I try anything, and mating bond or not, my ego won’t take the rejection well.
“Who is she?” I ask.
“One of the members of the witch council,” she replies.
The lady is still talking, but I’m busy observing Aurora. It’s only when she mentions Aurora’s name that my attention diverts to her.
“It’s showtime,” she murmurs.
With squared shoulders, she walks toward the stage. I’m about to follow her, but a strong hand clasps around my arm.
“Don’t,” Ronan warns.
There’s an angry retort on the tip of my tongue. I’m fucking pissed that Ronan is keeping me from going after Aurora. I know he’s right. But my savage instinct is clouding everything.
“Let me go,” I grit out.
“Your eyes are glowing red. If you don’t control yourself, you’ll be hexed faster than you can blink.”
He’s not wrong, but damn, it hurts so much. I look at the stage, and that’s when everything and everyone fade into the background. My pulse is now pounding in my ears and my body is infused with pure red-hot rage. There’s a man standing next to Aurora, looking smug and shit. Their hands are linked together. That must be her fiancé.
Not even Ronan with all his muscles will be able to keep me in place. A roar is in my throat, ready for the battle cry as I launch myself at the enemy. But suddenly, a pair of dark eyes appear in front of me, and with a few whispered words, I black out.
Aurora
It’s official. I’m engaged. My mother warned me they would announce it tonight. But no matter how hard I worked to accept my fate, to not let the news crush me, I can’t pretend I’m not screaming inside. How can I marry this jerk? A unworthy man who I loathe.
If the union was only on paper, a true political alliance, it’d be easier to stomach. But I have to have sex with him, bear his children. I’m beginning to doubt if being the High Witch is worth the sacrifice.
To make matters worse, Saxon is here. I couldn’t believe my eyes or how my entire being was craving him like he’s the air I breathe. It isn’t only because he looks like sex on a stick wearing a tuxedo. The need goes deeper. It’s raw, primal.
Calvin is gripping my hand in a tight hold, but all I feel is disgust at the contact. Unlike the actual sparks that seem to fly every time Saxon touches me. I seek his face in the crowd, noticing immediately something is terribly wrong with him. His eyes are bright red, trained on Calvin, and his fangs are exposed. Oh my God. He’s going to murder Calvin in front of all these people.
Suddenly, King Raphael appears in front of him. I’m not sure what he does, but a moment later, he and Ronan drag a stunned Saxon out.
“Earth to Aurora,” Calvin says next to my ear, making my skin crawl. Yeah, that will bode well for our honeymoon.
On instinct, I pull away. “Back off, perv. We’re not married yet.”
Calvin’s expression turns dark. “You’d better start treating me with more respect, darling. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior once we’re married.”
“That’s a long time away and many things can happen before then.” I storm off the stage, not caring that I’m blowing the charade this is a happy union.
I know that as soon as I leave, the gossip will start. My mother will be mortified that I behaved in such a disrespectful manner, but she can’t have her cake and eat it too. I agreed to this alliance, but I’m not going to pretend I don’t hate Calvin.
Back in the La Morte mansion, I could sense Saxon—as crazy as it sounds—but as I search for the connection now, I find nothing. Unsure where Ronan and the king took him, I have to cast a quick location spell. He just touched me, so it’s easy to do it without the help of a magical stone or crystal. They’re outside, probably about to leave. Shit. I need to know if Saxon is okay. As soon as I walk out of the ballroom, I lift my skirt and break into a run.