Huh. At least Ezra’s behavior makes more sense now. Living that long would certainly inflate anyone’s ego.
Ezra slides out of my reading chair and settles on the floor beside me. He carefully grasps my free hand while I keep the other buried in Louie’s fur.
I flinch at the contact, and when his face falls, my chest tightens.
But being this close to him again, it drags me back to the bookshop. The way his lips claimed mine, how his fingers curled into my hair, how his thumb …
Heat curls low in my stomach, and I hate how much I don’t hate it.
It feels fucked up to want that kind of touch after Jameson … after everything.
But Ezra made me feel wanted. He made me feel powerful. Like I could be something more.
I’d rather hold onto that than drown in what Jameson left behind.
“Darling, you are everything.” Ezra’s gaze pierces through me as his lips skim the back of my hand. A shadow lingersat my wrist, flicking against my pulse, refusing to let go. “You are myth made flesh. Hellfire come to Earth. A force beyond comprehension.”
His fingers tighten, just slightly. “You are a Daughter of the Morning Star.”
Um, what? Just gonna go ahead and add that to the “what the actual fuck” list.
“Daughter of the Morning Star? I don’t—”
Ezra gently interrupts me, predicting my next question.
“As in Lucifer Morningstar, Aurora.”
My eyes go so wide I’m afraid they’ll fall out of the sockets just before I burst into laughter.
“Christ, Jameson must have really fucked me up if I’m dreaming that I’m Lucifer’s daughter. I wonder if I can wake myself up.”
I pinch my arm to see if I can get the hell out of this fucked up dream, but Ezra’s hands frame my face, tilting it up. Not rough, not forceful, just … unshakable.
“Aurora,” he says, his voice deep and commanding, pulling me back from the edge, “listen to me.”
It’s not that I go numb. It’s that I feel fucking everything—every breath, every heartbeat, every nerve screaming like I’m being skinned alive from the inside out.
Apparently, there’s only so much biblical fuckery a girl can take before her nervous system starts acting like an animal that’s just realized it’s trapped in a human suit.
“You aren’t Lucifer’s daughter,” he continues, his voice heavy enough to drag the truth into my bones.
“But youarea direct descendant of Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar, known as a Daughter of the Morning Star. You’re like me … like Louie … except destined for more than either of us. Fuck, Aurora, you were born with the kind of legacy that makes kings kneel and priests turn their backs on religion.”
There’s no hesitation in his eyes. Just certainty. And something that looks a hell of a lot like worship. Realworship. Not the flirty kind mentioned in my dozens of Kindle books. The on-your-knees-before-God kind. The terrifying kind.
“You’re not just powerful, little lupine. You’re inevitable.”
Ezra’s thumb gently caresses my cheek, keeping me calm and focused.
“W-what does that mean? That I’m … a descendant of Lucifer? Am I evil? Am I like the anti-Christ?”
“No, little goddess, you are a shifter of reality. Your destiny is to unite the underborne and humans, transforming our world for the better. At least that’s what I believe.”
“Underborne?”
Apparently there’s a whole slew of unfamiliar words I need to learn, on top of recovering from Jameson’s assault and coming to terms with the fact that I’m not fully human.
“The supernatural creatures of the world, Aurora,” Ezra says. “Well, most of them. Angels and demons refer to themselves as ‘erevald.’”
