Aurora’s Betrayal
AURORA’S BETRAYAL
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COVEY PUBLISHING, LLC
Published by Covey Publishing, LLC
PO Box 550219, Gastonia, NC 28055-0219
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Copyright © 2019 by K.A Knight
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Covey Publishing, LLC
Book Design by Covey Publishing, www.coveypublishing.com
Copy Editing by Covey Publishing, LLC
Printed in the United States of America.
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ISBN: 978-1-948185-89-9
First Printing, 2019
Contents
1. Aurora
2. Alexander
3. Aurora
4. Alexander
5. Aurora
6. Aurora
7. Benjamin
8. Aurora
9. Jason
10. Aurora
11. Aurora
12. Alexander
13. Aurora
14. Ezra
15. Aurora
16. Aurora
17. Alexander
18. Aurora
19. Aurora
20. Aurora
21. Alexander
22. Aurora
23. Aurora
24. Aurora
25. Aurora
26. Alexander
27. Aurora
28. Aurora
29. Aurora
30. Aurora
31. Darius
32. Aurora
33. Aurora
34. Aurora
35. Aurora
36. Jason
37. Aurora
38. Ben
39. Aurora
40. Ezra
41. Aurora
42. Mikael
43. Aurora
44. Aurora
45. Darius
46. Aurora
47. Alexander
48. Aurora
49. Aurora
50. Ezra
51. Benjamin
52. Aurora
53. Jason
54. Aurora
55. Ezra
56. Aurora
57. Aurora
58. Mikael
59. Aurora
60. Alexander
61. Darius
62. Jason
63. Ezra
64. Benjamin
65. Mikael
66. Aurora
Epilogue
Translations
About the Author
Also by K. A Knight
Note from Publisher
Tellulah Falls
Sanguin
Hidden Embers
1
Aurora
The bed I lay on is pure white and probably the comfiest fucking bed ever. With a groan, I sit up. The room resembles something out of a dream. Marble floor, white and gray walls. Massive white sofas.
But the best bit? Two French doors open out onto a balcony covered in every flower imaginable.
The only problem? The locked door.
Oh, and I think I might be dead.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in this room, but I memorized the layout and how many steps it takes to walk between the bed and the door. Forty-five, if you’re curious. Thirty steps from the door to the balcony.
Now, I stare at the ceiling. If this is death, it sure is boring.
What are my guys doing now? Have they moved on? Disappeared as quickly as they appeared? Is Lane looking after Nev? Hmm. She better take care of him after they bury me.
Sighing, I run my hands along the silky bed sheets.
I miss them. Jason’s sweet smile. Ben’s laugh. Ezra’s kiss. Alex’s confidence. I even miss Mikael. I miss our nightly talks and games. The way his eyes lit up when I told him something embarrassing. The way his lips twitched when I begged him not to laugh.
I close my eyes and imagine I’m in the guys’ living room.
We cuddle on the sofa watching films. Their warmth and smells surround me like the best blanket. Oh, look. There are cookies. Damn. I miss cookies. Do they have them in the afterlife?
Like, “Oh, yes, you’re dead, but this here’s a cookie bag which never runs out and changes flavor at will.” I wipe the drool away.
I know I should be worried, but for once, I’m calm.
Lost in my thoughts, the door banging open makes me jump upright. The long, white, swirly dress I wear moves as I do. One shoulder slips down to reveal my pale skin. The bodice, with a tight sweetheart neckline that tucks in at the waist, gives way to a skirt that flares out down to my feet.
When I see the person framed at the doorway, I gasp and stand.
Okay, Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. Yes, that’s a Wizard of Oz quote, but I think it fits the current situation, so leave me alone.
2
Alexander
It’s been two weeks of no change. Her body is alive, yet her eyes don’t even twitch. I can barely feel her. I stroke the hand I hold. Mikael coughs behind me, and with one last squeeze of her hand, I turn to my brother.
Mikael woke up two days ago, confused at first. The healer didn’t expect him to wake up at all, but whatever Aurora did to him allowed him to heal. The healer suggested Aurora might have sparked his magic, allowing it to recharge, and he awoke once it did.
He’s still weak, and his sore throat sports a killer scar. Other than that, he’s fine.
However, he’s as worried as the rest of us. Running footsteps sound outside the room, and I move to stand in front of her body before Mikael sits up.
Ben runs into the room. His once longish hair is dull and greasy, and he’s lost weight, but for the first time in two weeks, something akin to emotion fills his face. He stares at me, excitement and hope lighting up his blue eyes. His chest heaves, and as I knew he would, he glances at Aurora before swallowing and looking away. He rubs his hair, not bothered by the disarray. Stains cover his shirt, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t showered in days. It’s a total contrast to our usual smooth-talking lady’s man. The worry is doing a number on him.
Just another thing I need to add to my list to sort out.
“I think we’ve found someone who can help,” Ben rushes out, excitement and desperation clear in his voice.
At his words, I stand up straight and hope blossoms in my chest. I show nothing on the outside, though, not wanting them to know how much I need someone to help. I need our witch back, or I fear my family might fall apart for good.
3
Aurora
I sit cross-legged on one of the white sofas, my dress spread around me like a princess. “I’m not dead?”
The being opposite me laughs. “No, sweet Aurora.”
At the reminder of the reaper, I flinch, the endearment bringing up a memory I’d rather forget.
Moments ago, I stood in disbelief at who filled the doorway, but hell, I decided to roll with the crazy. The foggy memory of me healing this being flits through my mind.
The reaper was right. He’s almost too much to look at. Too formidable. The power rolls off him in waves, and I don’t think he even knows.
His body looks like the gods made it, and his face is perfect. Too perfect. I debate what he could be. The list is endless, but I’m eager to hear what he has to say. To find out how I know him and why I can only remember that day.
Did I mention he only wears pants?
Yikes.
His wide thighs are encased in—I shit you not—leather pants. Not the cheap kind, either. They look hand-stitched and coat his legs like a second skin. His well-defined chest practically glows golden. My eyes run over the black patterns on his skin, unable to see them clearly. I’m sure one just moved, though.
“So, where am I?” I try to keep eye contact, but find it hard. And not because of the body that fulfills wet dreams everywhere.
No, because looking at him is like looking into an abyss: stare too hard and you might fall in and never come out. Every time I glance at him, his eyes change, and I give up trying to figure out their color.
His pants creak as he crosses a leg at the knee. “In-between, of sorts.”
What the hell does that mean?
“Okay, dude, all this mystery stuff is getting boring. The last thing I remember is healing Mikael, and then I woke up inside a giant cloud. I could really use some answers. Is Mikael okay?” Tone sharp, I manage to hold eye contact as I speak.
Yay, point for me.
He sighs, then nods. Standing, he offers me his hand, his fingers lean and smooth.
I debate my options but finally heave myself up and grab it lightly.
He pulls my hand to the crook of his arm, then turns to the door to leave.
He walks slowly, probably for my benefit. We walk along marble corridors arm in hand, so to speak. The white colors continue throughout, with gold decorations every now and again. My dress sweeps behind me and twirls around our legs with every step.
We pass a gold, decorative mirror with leaves and trees carved into the wood. I can’t help but notice the difference between us. Where I’m moonlight with pale skin and dark hair, he’s the sun. Golden and almost too much to look at.
He leads me down a curved, ornate staircase, the golden banister curving with us.
The bottom opens into a foyer with marble—shock—flooring, and doors that lead off of it. I can’t see much else, but I stretch my neck trying to. I glance back to where he waits patiently as I peruse his house.
He smiles down at me and leads the way to the front door, if that’s what they could be called. Carvings cover every inch of the two large, wooden doors. I run my eyes over women and men in robes wielding swords. It looks like a battle scene. At the top of one door is a carving of the moon; the sun on the other. Before we reach them, they open smoothly.
Okay, officially starting to get creeped out.
When I get a look at where we are, though, that all disappears.
I forget everything and let go of his arm to step out onto the grass. Flowers reach toward me, their petals opening. The sun shines down, warming my skin. Trees blow in happiness, and water trickles from a stream somewhere. I lift my head to the sky and let myself breathe deeply.
Peace settles in me, calming all my worries.
The earth calls to me, and I spin with its murmurs and laugh freely. I look back toward the house—well, more of a mansion—and there on the steps stands the creature who brought me here.
He observes me with a knowing smile on his face. “Welcome home, απόγονος μου.”
4
Alexander
The dance music pulses in time with the gyrating bodies, and I look at them with indifference. The club is a supernatural one. Shifters, witches, and more clog the dance floor. I scan them whilst sipping whiskey from the tumbler in my hand. I don’t plan on getting drunk, but if there was a time I could use a drink to steady me, this would be it. The music beats get louder and the grinding increases.
“He’s here,” Jason offers.
With those two words, I drain my drink and place the tumbler next to the rail I lean on. I turn to the table where my brothers patiently wait.
Ben managed to shower and looks a little better. Currently, he’s ripping the label from his beer bottle and not talking. I really need to corner him, but not now. Ezra sits rigid in his seat; the only one not drinking. His hair, the longest I’ve ever seen it, almost covers his ears and his beard is wild. Jason stands next to me, and I follow his eyes to the man Ben found.
He’s wiry and doesn’t look old enough to be here. His black-rimmed glasses keep falling down his crooked nose, even after he pushes them back up. He yanks on his loose-fitting shirt, pulling it away from his skinny body. With amusement, I notice what it says. ‘I like big books and I can’t lie’ He glances around nervously as he approaches us.
“Are you Alexander?” His voice warbles with nerves.
It stretches an unpleasant smile across my face. I watch his discomfort and do nothing to lessen it. “Indeed.”
I walk over to the table where I sit next to Ezra and gesture for the man to follow. Jason waits until he slides into the booth. He sits on the edge of the seat, still not making eye contact with us. Only then does Jason sit, caging him in.
From his gulp, he knows it.
“So, you’re the guy everyone goes to when they need knowledge?” I ask casually.
He meets my eyes for a second before they flit away again.
I frown.
“I erm—I,” he stutters out.
Ezra leans forward, every word laced with anger as he growls, “Spit it out, kid.”
The poor kid looks like ready to piss his pants, but as amusing as that would be, we need to know what he does.
I put my hand on Ezra’s shoulder. He shakes it off but leans back. His fists clench. I frown at him but switch my attention to the person we came here to meet.
“We need information. This information may not be passed on to anyone else. If you tell anyone that you spoke to us and what about…” I trail off, and he looks at Ezra in fear.
The poor kid has a right to be scared. The way Ezra looks right now would terrify anyone. My lips quirk. Well, maybe not everyone. Our Aurora would probably smile sweetly at him and tease him.
I come back to the moment when he mutters a reply.
“I didn’t hear that.” I cross one leg over the other and wait.
“Okay,” he whispers.
I clap and he jumps. “Brilliant. Now that that’s out of the way, what do you know about souls?”
I lean forward, eager to find out everything.
“Fascinating.” The kid keeps saying that over and over again.
He stands next to Aurora, examining her. As soon as we hesitantly described why we needed to know about souls, he came out of his nervous shell, fully in his element. And, apparently, he needed to see her in person, so we brought him back to the house.
When the kid said ‘fascinating’ for the tenth time, I kicked Ezra out of the room before he punched the guy. I now lean against the wall, watching him study my kitten, my anger at breaking point.
“Well?” I growl.
He turns to me and pushes his glasses up his nose. “I don’t have a clue.”
I step away from the wall, my power unfurling like a beast inside me.
“But,” he hurries to carry on, “this is an anomaly. She should be dead. No one can exist without their full soul. However, there might be something.” He rubs his glasses as he glances away with a distant, thoughtful expression.
When he snaps his fingers, and I jump.
“Yes, I think there might be something in the books!” His eyes widen with excitement.
“What books and how long will it take?” I ask, looking back at my kitten.
“I don’t know.”
I growl and step closer.
He holds up his hands and squeaks a response. “I don’t! It depends how deep in the books and if it’s in English…”
I nod, clenching my fist with the need to destroy something, and grit out, “Go.”
He runs from the roo
m like the hounds of hell are on his tail.
I let my anger deflate with one look at her. A whimper comes from the door, and I open it to find Nev with his tail between his legs. As I step aside, he sprints to her bed and sits at the bottom of it, his head on her lap.
I rub his head. “I know how you feel buddy.”
Poor dog was inconsolable when he first saw her. He only stopped crying when he laid next to her, and he hasn’t left her side since. When the kid approached, he didn’t like the stranger being near her, so we took him outside. He’ll only listen to Ezra, so he went with him, just another excuse to get him out of the room.
With a sigh, I sit next to her. “I’m working on it, kitten. I’ll get you back. I promise. Don’t give up on us, okay?”
I lean forward and kiss her forehead gently.
Regret pulls at me for not kissing her properly that night I was with her and Ezra. She had looked so beautiful stretched out beneath me, her eyes dilated with lust, her shirt ridden up to expose her creamy flesh. I had stroked it and marveled at its softness.