Aurora
The magic of Pack Onyx lands grows stronger with each hour that we spend exploring its vast expanse. It’s as if the land itself knows that I’m here now, and is waking around me, stretching its limbs and cracking its jaw with a yawn. My nerve endings tingle from it.
Or maybe that’s just Kieran’s proximity. We’re shoulder to shoulder as we work our way through the ruins, stepping over massive cracks in the road from tree branches and flooding, helping each other hand-over-hand. Every time he moves near me, my body betrays me with a shiver of awareness I’m sure he must see. The scent of him, pine and cinnamon, masculine and clean, makes my mouth water. I try to focus on our investigation, but it’s getting harder to ignore the pull between us.
“Look at this,” I say, brushing dirt away from a stone tablet we find inside a small family mausoleum. “These symbols match the ones we found yesterday, but they’re part of a larger pattern.”
He leans closer, and his breath warms my neck. My skin erupts in goosebumps wherever it caresses me, heat pooling low in my belly. “Can you read them?”
“Not exactly—they’re not really meant to be read, but…” I trace the spiraling design with my finger, trying to steady my voice as my heart pounds. “See how the symbols fan out, the way wolves run in a hunt? Pack Onyx was closely connected to the land. That’s something Gran told me about them—they were powerful because they worked with the land instead of trying to control it.”
As I speak, Kieran shifts closer, leaning over to see the carvings better. His thigh presses against mine, and the contact sends electricity shooting through my body. The rejected bond flares to life, no longer the dull ache in my chest I’ve grown used to, but a desperate, hungry thing full of longing.
I want to lean into him. To turn my head and press my lips to his warm throat. To make him mine, and become his.
I want so many things that I can never have.
His scent grows stronger as a bead of sweat rolls down his neck. My eyes follow its path, and I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from leaning forward to lick it off his skin. The bond pulses between us, and I swear I can feel his heartbeat, its erratic pulse a mirror to mine.
“You know so much about the fae and the packs,” Kieran says softly, looking at me with undisguised admiration. “I never knew that about you. It makes me think… if things had been different…”
The words cut deep, stirring up hope I can’t afford to feel. After all,thingsaren’t different. Standing abruptly, I move away from him, pretending to examine another section of the mausoleum. I need distance before I do something stupid like believe him.
But he still has an effect on me. Every time he speaks, making small observations about the families entombed here, his deep voice rumbles through me and draws heat from my belly. When he moves, I’m hyperaware of every step he takes. He’s like truenorth, and I’m a compass needle turning toward him. The magic in the ruins seems to amplify everything, so that every accidental brush of skin feels electric and alive.
The ground beneath my feet shifts unexpectedly as I move to another room of the mausoleum, making me stumble, and Kieran’s there instantly. His strong hands catch my waist, broad thumbs digging into my skin. Heat blooms wherever he touches me.
“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice rough. He doesn’t let go right away, and I find myself leaning back into the warmth of his chest, my treacherous body hungry for more contact.
His hands linger, his thumbs brushing against the strip of bare skin where my shirt has ridden up. I swallow a whine at the contact. The touch burns like a brand, the bond flaring to life between us, hungry and demanding.
When he finally lets go, if feels like he’s been ripped away from me.
Once we’ve covered the mausoleum, we explore parts of Pack Onyx lands that hold clues to its history. There were elders here, just like at Pack Jade, and in Pack Granite. All the larger packs have older members who help the alpha make decisions and remember the pack’s lore and history.
The sky darkens as afternoon bleeds into evening, adding a chill to the air, but the heat between us only grows. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and the air grows heavy with the smell of rain. We’re deep in the ruins now, surrounded by half-collapsed buildings and overgrown yards. More than once I have to reach for Kieran’s help to make my way through, his hand in mine sending sparks up my arm.
“We should find shelter,” Kieran says as a fat raindrop falls on his arm. “There’s a storm coming.”
He’s right—I can feel it in my bones. The magic around us seems to crackle with potential. We hurry through the ruins untilwe find a small structure with most of its roof intact. It’s barely bigger than a storage shed, but it’s dry and secure.
We duck inside just as the sky opens up. Rain pounds against the walls, and lightning illuminates the tiny space in stark bursts. It’s so small that every movement brings our bodies into contact. His thigh presses against mine as he settles beside me, and the heat of him seeps through my clothes. I try to shift away, but there’s nowhere to go. Each breath wraps his scent around me, stronger now in the enclosed space.
Thunder crashes overhead, so loud I jump. My shoulder brushes against his chest, and electricity that has nothing to do with the storm shoots across my skin. The bond between us pulses, living and desperate for more.
This time when I jump, I end up practically in Kieran’s lap. He steadies me with his arms, the contact sending goosebumps across my skin. My desire for him is an aching, clawing need, stronger than Dana’s voice of reason in the back of my head, stronger even than my own stubborn resentment.
“Sorry,” I mumble, but I can’t make myself move away. His hands are on my arms, his thumbs tracing small circles on my skin. Each touch feels like fire, like magic, like coming home.
Lightning illuminates our shelter in bursts. In the brief flashes, I can see his control slip. His pupils are dilated, his breathing uneven. When he speaks, his voice is rough with something like need.
“Aurora.” Just the way he says my name makes heat pool low in my belly. His hands slide up my arms, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “We should try to get some sleep.”
I lie down on my sleeping bag, turning my back to him. Every small movement is torture. The rustle of his clothes as he turns. The catch in his breath when my hip presses against his thigh. The way the tiny space fills with our scent—and the scent of our shared arousal.
It must be the magic of Pack Onyx, pulsing around us, making everything more intense. The land has found one of its own, finally, and now it’s trying to claim me. To make me a mate and keep me here with it, Kieran at my side.
I curl my fingers in my sleeping bag, fighting the urge to reach for him. My body feels like it’s on fire, full of thirst and hunger in a whole new way.
