Suddenly, I’m not just stunned.
I’m jealous.
Ugly,ravenousjealousy claws up my throat as I watch the room devour her with their eyes. Hands reach. Voices howl. Someone yells,“Marry me!”and another slaps down a couple large bills.
Even when she’s fucking and feeding, I don’t feel a tinge of jealousy. As she takes whatever she needs, the other person doesn't get even a little piece of my Aura.
But the girl up on that bar isn’t the same girl I've protected for years, and for the first time, I have to share her.
It’s fuckingterrible.
Because I suddenly realize this could be the beginning of losing her. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.
The primal side of me wants to explode in wings and fury, pluck her off that bar, and hold her to me as I fly us to a far secluded cave and keep her. Hoard her the way Dragons guard their treasure. My treasure. My Aura. My everything.
But I can’t touch her. Even in this new world, with this new Aurora, the rules remain the same.
“Her eyes promise trouble, her fingers spell sin, and her smile will send your soul packing.”
The crowd screams. But I’m silent. Carved hollow by want and fury and the ache of everything I can’t have. My jaw clenches so hard it clicks.
Geanie lifts his hand.
“One more thing,” he purrs, voice velvet dark. “If you’re thinking about taking her home,” he grins, “you better make peace with dying happy.”
The barerupts.
Aurora throws both hands in the air andhowls, laughing as the pink light pulses around her in a flirtatious heartbeat. She belongs here. A Lost Girl.
And it guts me. Because I see now how right she was. Here she is alive and free.
Which is going to make the fall all the more brutal.
Chapter 9
Girl, Clean Yo’self Up
AURORA
The second my boots hit the floor behind the bar, the high rushes straight to my head.
It’s not magic. Not feeding. It’s the rush of beingseen, not just watched. My breath comes fast, my skin flushes, my body sparks from the inside, lit on a live current
The crowd is still screaming, but they’re miles away and I’m floating above them. Golden, electric, and real.
I’m a crown jewel that’s been gloriously smashed into a hundred dazzling pieces.
Here, I’m still a symbol, sure. A Lost Girl. A dare. A fantasy. But I’m not behind the glass anymore. I shattered it. Stepped through.
I danced. I laughed. I took up space. And no one recoiled.
No one offered tight smiles or curtsied before turning away.
They screamed. They roared. They reached for me. Not to cage me. To celebrate me.
For the first time, I’m not cursed. I’m alive.
And I don’t ever want to go back.
