Aurora's Veil

I jolted awake. My heart pounded as I sat up in the pitch-black room, my gaze darting around the darkness.

The sheets pooled around me, their coolness a stark contrast to the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The room was eerily quiet, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The blinds were drawn, keeping out the biting Alaskan chill and the odd rays of sunlight that peeked through at strange hours during the summer. Something was wrong. I couldn’t shake the feeling.

I fumbled for my phone, getting up to slip on my silk robe. I moved toward the door, confident in my ability to navigate the room in the dark.

As I finished tying the sash and took a step forward, warm hands covered mine. I leaned back into the firm body behind me.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, I was comforted by the familiar embrace and scent of my husband, Jack.

The fleeting moment of peace shattered when I realized something was terribly wrong. The hands resting on my waist were too large, too rough.

My heart pounded in my throat as the scent of unfamiliar soap filled my nostrils. Fear surged through me, freezing me in place.

His hands pulled me closer, and then I felt it—a cold, hard object pressing into my side.

I tried to steady my breathing, my mind racing as adrenaline flooded my system. I needed to think, to figure out a way out of this.

“So you’re Jack’s prized little bride, all tucked away and hidden,” the stranger murmured, his voice smooth and accented. He was one of Jack’s associates, but which one?

“Please. I don’t know what my husband did, but I’m not involved. I’ve never been involved, I—”

“Shhhhh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. A hand moved to untie my robe, the gun never leaving my side. “We both know that if you’re involved with a man like that, you’re involved. Surely, I can’t be your first lesson.”

I tensed as my robe fell open, the cool air brushing against my bare skin. I wanted to fight or to run, but the gun pressed against my side kept me still.

“I don’t—” I gasped as his thumb brushed against my nipple, sending a shiver down my spine.

“What a delicious response,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Tears welled in my eyes as I realized what was about to happen. Jack was coming.

“Pity. I wanted to get better acquainted,” he muttered. His arousal pressed against my back, making his intentions clear. I wondered how he had bypassed Damien’s security team and what message he intended to send.

Fear washed over me like a bucket of ice as I tried to find a way out of this dangerous situation. The door creaked open. The only sound in the room was the chilling click of the gun.

A tiny whimper escaped my throat, swallowed in the darkness as a blinding light washed over me and my captor. The light flicked on instantly, forcing my eyes to adjust as the man behind me began his silent yet deadly questioning.

Unable to see my husband’s face as my vision was filled with dancing spots, I squeezed my eyes, desperate to see his features one last time. His hair, the color of aged oak, his strong jaw, and those stormy eyes I lost myself in when he made love to me.

“Where are my guns, Jack?” His words were soft but filled with deadly intent. “Or better yet, why don’t you hand over the orb since I’m going through the trouble.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Jack said. His face was ashen, disbelief etched in his features, exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes.

Jack Blair was one of the most powerful casters in the world, a fact that was no secret to others. His power had saved us countless times, but even he had limits.

Just by looking at him, it was clear he didn’t have enough energy to stir a breeze, let alone conjure anything to stop this man. Tears stung my eyes at the sight of the defeated look in Jack’s eyes.

“Counting chickens, Jack. I won’t ask again. Give me what I came for. Then maybe she’ll stay intact.”

“Kill her, and—”

The stranger moved so fast I barely registered it.

Jack was on the floor, screaming as blood pooled from his calf. I couldn’t even scream, my breath caught in my throat, my lower lip trembling as the stranger began to speak directly to Jack again.

“She’s next, and don’t pretend you don’t care. It was a bitch getting up here. Where the fuck is the orb?”

“Toronto! Your guns are in Toronto, you son of a bitch, god dammit.” Jack’s voice was strained, his hand clutching his bleeding leg. Tears streamed down his face as blood pooled around him. “I can’t give you the orb. Just leave her out of this.”

“You tried to kill Nadia tonight, you think that didn’t make our business personal?” His hand cupped my sex possessively, pinning me against his body. His other hand half-grasped my neck, the gun still in his hand.

I turned my head in disgust, only to feel his nose in my hair, his teeth nipping at my earlobe.

“Is this the first woman who’s been ruined because of you? Or just the first one you’ll care about?” His words sparked a fury in Jack, and his face contorted in pain as he ripped part of his shirt to bind his wound, his eyes never leaving us.

“Can’t say I can find anything about her beyond the last few years. What is she? Your secret sister? Part of the flesh trade? A lab rat?”

I clenched my fists, my teeth grinding together as I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated his assumptions about me, his words stinging even as his fingers hovered just above my clitoris, making me burn with unwanted desire due to the pressure.

“Flesh trade.” Jack’s voice was smooth, the lie slipping out easily.

The gun was fired again, a hole appearing in the door frame next to Jack’s head.

“Please!” I finally cried out, finding my voice.

“You’re going to squeal?” His voice was suddenly sweet, his hand pulling my face toward him before pushing it away. “Smart little bitch you found, Jack. Too bad she’s married to a dog like you. Let’s see if she gives me a good reason not to put you down.”

“She’s not what you want. Just—”

“Needs evolve. You know that.” He cut Jack off, his tone suggesting business had soured for more reasons than greed. “Come with me, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can change my mind. Fight or hurt me—I’ll make sure every last bit of this is as painful as possible.”

My legs felt like jelly as he pushed me forward, allowing me to cover myself with my robe as he gestured with the gun toward the door. My eyes darted to Jack, my arms wrapping around myself, holding the robe tight over my body as I struggled to breathe.

I had no choice but to step past Jack, the smell of his blood making me cover my mouth as tears welled in my eyes.

As I stepped past, the man hit Jack, making me turn back to help him. Instead, I got a full view of my attacker as he towered over me, his hand shooting out to turn me around and push me forward.

“Move.”

He was tall, much taller than me. Blond hair, blue eyes, sun-kissed skin. His sharp features and broad shoulders made Jack’s lean frame seem small in comparison.

Piercings. A small tattoo on his temple, almost hidden by stubble. His good looks were a stark contrast to his lethal demeanor.

His hand was guiding me by the nape of my neck, navigating through Jack’s estate as if he’d been there a thousand times before. He shoved me out the front door barefoot.

The cold air enveloped us, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. Several trucks parked out front, our staff and guards bound and gagged in the cold, four figures with SMGs circling them.

One of them was a tall, spider-like woman. “What the fuck are you—”

“Drive with Keith,” he said.

“You said you’d kill him!” The woman’s thick Russian accent cut through the air as she tried to follow him to the vehicle. Her red hair was cut with razor-like precision, and anger was etched on her face.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed me into the 4Runner and slammed the door as he joined me.

Sighing, he leaned his head back, the gun resting loosely between his thighs. I huddled in the corner of my seat, as far away from him as possible.

A slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he caught my movement. “Get to work, sweetheart. My cock isn’t going to suck itself.”

I glared at him. “Go fuck yourself.”

He looked surprised, and his hand on his gun relaxed. “Don’t you understand how this works? I wanted you, I took you, spared your pathetic husband. Now be a good girl or—”

I lunged for the gun in a desperate, futile attempt. He pinned me against the seat, his body pressing into mine, the gun tossed aside. His firm grip held me in place, my robe falling open, my bare skin against his suit.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as he thrust his hips forward, his eyes searing into mine. “I’m not above fucking if that’s what you really want.”

“No, I—”

“Then get on your fucking knees and get to work,” he growled, yanking my hair to force me into position as he unzipped his pants.

His erect cock sprang free, already slick with pre-cum.

He brought my face to it, and I tried to turn away. The pain of my hair pulling at my scalp was almost unbearable. His pre-cum smeared my cheek, tears welling in my eyes as he pressed the warm tip against my lips.

Deciding to get it over with quickly, I opened my mouth wide, taking him in.

He grunted, pushing me further than comfortable, hitting the back of my throat before releasing me. He moaned in satisfaction, his head falling back as he settled into the seat, pulling me onto his lap by my hair.

“Good little slut,” he grunted. My head bobbed as his hips began to move, his head lolling back, a hand on my scalp massaging it in appreciation.

I let him enjoy his last few moments of peace.

Just as I felt the cool metal of his abandoned gun at my fingertips.