For so long I’d wanted to get inside, to be an Agent of the High Coven. Have eyes and ears on the inside of the greatest power on Earth—excluding the sacred power of Aurora, of course.
I wanted to be part of the action, to make a difference. Help people, fight the good fight. But it conflicted with being brought up in the mansion withparents loyal to the sacred blood. Privately, of course. And for a big chunk of my childhood, witchcops showed up to the house to make sure Mum and Dad were being compliant citizens. Which they always made sure to project, while secretly waiting for the return of the sacred triplets.
Despite my upbring, the High Coven saw no issue. For them, the Aurora bloodline died with Juliet, Janet, and Jonathon. They had no idea about Juliet’s three sons until recently. And by the grace of Hecate, they didn’t punish my mum for hiding it.
I’d break heads if anyone tried to.
Mum struggled with my decision to become a witchcop. She argued with me for months before I enrolled into the academy, her loyalty to House Aurora unbreaking. Even when I started my training, she pushed back, telling me it wasn’t too late for me to quit. To her, the High Coven were too powerful, and had overstepped the mark after defeating Kane Kingwood. Said they made our society too dystopian.
Maybe she was right, but what choice did they have? They had to intervene before the world fell apart. Anyway, as I always told her, it’d be great to have an extra body on the inside along with Jake.
I respected her steadfast loyalty to the Auroras, I really did. However, I had my own life to live.
Now I was starting to think I’d been too set in my ways on this decision. My first week had been rough, with Stefan’s attempt to sell out Riley and Isaac, which sent shockwaves through the HQ.
Now I was the Aurora Guy, along with Jake, who’d been privy to the return of the sacred witches. I was on the receiving end of whispers and quizzical stares, my whole experience as a witchcop off to a shaky start.
I blamed Stefan. His dickhead ways caused this, bringing my colleagues in this city in on the big secret.
Rolling into the carpark, I parked in my allocated slot, and took a breath.
It’d be alright. I had this. Hunker down, get through my time in the barracks, come out better on the other side. These things always blew over. Anyway, everyone was sworn to secrecy by penalty of imprisonment. So, yeah.
“You’ve got this,” I told my reflection in the rearview mirror.
Prada comfies…
They looked good on him. Everything did, turning him into some sort of fairytale prince in perfectly tailored clothes. He could wear a potato sack and make it work.
I scowled at the mirror. Who gave a crap what he looked like? Why did I care about the stunning, golden hues of his fair skin, or how his blue eyes were set to a constant sparkle? And why would I be interested in his amazing light-brown hair, wondering how silky it’d be if I ran my fingers through it?
Wriggling in my seat as my dick firmed, I gave myself another pointed look.
“Stop goingthere,” I warned.
I’d been thinking about The Sun a lot lately. Too much. And it wasn’t the same as thinking about the other brothers. This was different, as if Isaac had burrowed closer to my core.
That spark…
Nope. Nope. Nope. I had to kill this. Hot or not, we lived in different worlds. Plus, he just bugged me. Because of my ex, because I couldn’t stand people like him. Whatever signs he showed of being a decent person, I just… Bollocks. I had no idea what to think.
Call me confused.
Call me judgmental. I mean, who was I to say anything about his lifestyle after growing up in a mansion? But it wasn’t the same. He came from a privileged, pampered world beyond my comprehension.
Man, I sounded like the king of all dickheads.
Also call me furious for allowing a man to make me stumble. I’d steeled myself against attraction for years now, ever since my breakup. People were too complicated, too much of a time suck and a drain on my frail social battery.
No, thanks. Better to keep to myself as much as possible than be burned by some oxygen thief like Ben Cash, my ex.
Thank Hecate I wasn’t staying at the house anymore. Better to sleep here than be under that roof with Isaac sleeping close by.
He always smells awesome, too…
Like an expensive blend of nutmeg and vanilla. To my nose, anyway.
Right, enough of this crap. I got out of the car and strode across the concrete ground to the lifts. I pushed the call button impatiently, turning my mind to important matters. Like witches breaking Hecate Crystals, and strange new shades.
