“No,” she panted, twisting her hips so she slipped off him. Shoving him away, she pulled her dress over her breasts and fought to regain her composure. “Stop.”
Shocked and hurt, Aeron stared at her in confusion. “Why do you rebuff me? You love me.”
“You will become the monster that destroys everything I love! You kill my brother!” Vanora screamed at him. Shame and guilt burned inside her. Even if this was his dream, she’d given in to him. She’d allowed him to make love to her. The pleasant soreness of his lovemaking was an excruciating reminder of what she’d consented to. The thought of Armando made her insides twist, and she hated herself for her betrayal.
Aeron regarded her in horror. “How can you say these things? I would never hurt you. I swear it!”
With a sob of despair, Vanora realized Aeron hadn’t killed Roman with his own hands. Even as a monster, he’d keep the promise he had made to her in this very dream.
“But you do,” Vanora cried out. “You do. In the future you will destroy those I love!”
“I will not hurt you,” he vowed. “Never!” It was clear the mere concept horrified him.
The noble, caring man that stood before her was not a monster, but a man she could love.
No.
A man she did love.
In that moment, Vanora fathomed the true strength of the magic that created her. She didn’t have a choice when it came to Aeron. She’d been made for him and her heart yearned to be with him. No wonder he’d been so confident in his seduction of her that night in her apartment in Austin. He’d already made love to her in the past. Perhaps only in a dream, but he knew her heart better than she did. Aeron knew she loved him because he had already experienced that love. Yet, her rational mind could not reconcile the man that stood before her with the cruel creature he’d become.
Aeron drew his dagger and knelt at her feet. “I swear it on my own blood. I will not kill your brother. I will not hurt you!” He slashed open his palm. “I will repeat this in my waking hours. I will prove it to you.”
Vanora sobbed, unable to speak.
When the journey continued, the man before her would cease to exist and the vampire would take his place. The vampire who slaughtered her brother and his followers and set Houston ablaze. The vampire who’d killed her mother and father.
Vanora’s heart broke. Letting out a ragged scream, she collapsed to the cold, damp cave floor, covering her face with her hands.
“You’re hurting,” Aeron whispered, his voice tender and afraid as he tugged her against his chest. “Please, don’t cry. I will fight for us to be together. We will be together. I will never hurt you.”
Engulfed once more in his embrace, she clung to him and knew nothing she said or did would change the past. All hope born in the moment she’d deflected the werewolf was lost now. Aeron would become a vampire. He’d fight his wars.
“Don’t cry,” Aeron pleaded, kissing her tears. “Don’t cry....Vanora...Your name is Vanora.”
Nodding, she pressed her lips to his. They were warm and sweet. “Aeron, if you love me...go home.”
“I can’t,” Aeron responded wiping away her tears. “Because if I go home, I will never have you in the real world. This is just a dream. I desire reality.”
“This feels like more than just a dream,” Vanora answered dismally.
“But it is just a dream,” he said, tears in his eyes. “And when I awaken, I will no longer be able to hold you.”
Vanora was so miserable and wracked with guilt, it was difficult to fathom all that had transpired between them was an illusion.
And then...
Across the cave, Aeron awoke and his dream manifestation dissipated in her arms.
“Vanora?” Aeron called out sleepily. “Vanora...”
Tormented with her wildly churning emotions, Vanora stood and went to his side. In silence, she pressed her hand against his cheek and he sighed with relief.
“I will not kill your brother,” he whispered fervently. He drew his dagger and slashed his palm. “I swear it on my own blood.”
Vanora closed her eyes, knowing he would not break the vow.
He’d send Lorelei to kill Roman instead.
Vanora no longer wanted to endure the past, but didn’t know how to break free from the spell. Observing Aeron trekking toward the dark future that would one day destroy her family only strengthened the dread growing within her. The awful knowledge that Aeron would soon be transformed broke her heart.
Through the ancient world, Aeron strove toward his final destination, and Vanora followed.
In more populated areas, he toiled as a day laborer to pay for food and supplies.
Sometimes, he was forced to fend off thieves.
In wild areas, he fought against fearsome predators: animal, human, and supernatural.
At times, he spoke to her though he couldn’t see her.
Other times, he sang to her.
It was obvious that Aeron was attempting to maintain a connection with her, but after what had occurred between them in the dream Vanora was withdrawn and unwilling to communicate with him again. She wouldn’t allow herself to relent once again to the intense yearning that had enveloped her within the dream. It was abysmally depressing to realize how much she loved the man he was as a mortal and how destructive he’d be in the future. She wholly fathomed that they were destined to be, but that concept was still unacceptable to her.
Though Aeron continued to seek her out in dreams, Vanora never responded to his invitation and hid from him. In her heart, she knew the argument between them would remain the same and his determination to be with her in the future would not falter.
He would become a vampire.
He would destroy her world.
Her parents would be killed in a car accident, Roman would die, her sister would go missing, and the Socoli Mansion would burn along with Roman’s vampires.
Yet, Vanora kept her hand on his arm to steady herself as his journey whirled past her.
Aeron hesitated at the base of the rocky hill. Olive trees dotted the terrain, and Vanora was certain they were now in ancient Greece. Travelers camped at the bottom of the hill gawked at a small temple rising up against the blue sky on the hilltop.
It was hot, and Aeron’s werewolf cloak was tucked into one of the heavy bags he carried. His father’s cloak ruffled on the warm air. There were so many people gathered in the spot, Vanora pressed into Aeron’s side to avoid feeling the ghostly touch of the humans. Only Aeron’s form had mass, and the feathery touch of other mortals unnerved her. Glancing downward, Aeron’s lips lightly turned upward.
He could still feel her presence.
A man in a drab robe hurried down the hill followed by a small cluster of women who looked both terrified and enthralled.
“The Oracle will only see a few more today,” the man explained, his sweaty face flushed and his eyes bright. “She says the gods are restless, and she must not provoke them.”
The women who had apparently received exciting news from the Oracle rushed off, chattering excitedly.
The news brought protests from those gathered to seek the wisdom of the oracle. Baskets filled with offerings lined the bottom of the hill and a few people dug out their donations.
Scanning the crowd, the Oracle’s helper selected those who would receive guidance. Vanora saw no rhyme or reason to those he chose. Curious, she stared at the top of the hill where smoke slowly wafted from the interior of the tiny temple.
The Oracle’s helper spotted Aeron, and his eyes widened. Aeron was taller than everyone else and even shrouded in his father’s hood and cloak, his pale skin and purple eyes were striking. “You are the last. Come, come!”
Herding the chosen up the rocky terrain, the temple worker ignored the groans of disappointment from below. Aeron walked slightly ahead of the others, his long legs carrying him further because of his elongated gait. Vanora wondered why he was seeking out an oracle since he wholeheartedly beli
eved in his mother’s prophecy.
They were nearing the summit, when a figure draped in red and orange appeared in the doorway of the temple. Long white hair flowed down to the elderly woman’s waist in a wild tangle.
“You!” she said pointing at Aeron. “No others!”
“But he said-” someone began to protest, but already the Oracle had retreated inside the temple.
Aeron stepped forward and into the shaded interior. A statue of Athena stood watch as the Oracle threw herbs onto hot coals and drank from a clay pitcher.
Outside the temple worker shooed the other people away.
“You’ve been touched by the gods,” the Oracle said and pointed a gnarled finger tipped with a long, yellowed nail at Aeron.
“Yes,” Aeron replied, bowing his head. The response was surprisingly humble.
“Your accent is strange.” The Oracle furrowed her brow.
Again, Vanora realized she was listening to ancient languages that she shouldn’t be able to understand. Aeron had apparently learned new ones during his long journey.
“I’ve come from far away,” Aeron admitted.
Swirling the liquid around in the clay jug, the Oracle stared at the reflection. “Very far. Past many lands and a serpent of water.”
“Yes.”
“And she’s come even further.” The Oracle gave Vanora a piercing, yet wary look. “A demi-goddess watches over you. How did you bring her favor upon you?”
Aeron cast a timid look in Vanora’s direction. “I do not know, but every time I see her face, as I do now, I am blessed.”
The Oracle took a cautious step toward Aeron, tilting her head to gaze into his eyes. “Why are you here? What is it you seek?”
In a faltering voice, Aeron said, “I want...confirmation that the path I am on is the true one.”
Hope fluttered to life in Vanora’s heart again and she took several fast steps to his side.
The Oracle scurried away at Vanora’s approach, clearly unnerved by her presence. The Oracle’s helper timidly hurried around the edge of the temple to stand behind the Oracle.
“Your path?” The Oracle muttered to herself, staring into her pitcher.
Vanora suspected wine was inside of the clay container. The Oracle did seem a bit tipsy, or maybe she was just under the influence of her power. Alisha’s behavior was always a bit erratic when engrossed by portents.
“Yes. Am I doing the right thing in my life? I have been...warned...that my path may hurt the one I love.” Aeron cast a furtive look in Vanora’s direction.
There was a sharp inhalation of breath, then the pitcher hit the ground, shattering and spraying red wine over the stone floor. The Oracle recoiled from Aeron and Vanora. “Path! You should have no path!”
Clearly shaken, Aeron said in a stuttering voice, “What do you mean?”
Squatting before the ruined pitcher, the Oracles fingers slid through the air tracing the pattern she saw in the spilled wine and clay fragments. “Your death was to happen in your seventeenth year. Another tribe was to attack your home and you were to die.”
Aeron took a cautious step forward and peered down at the red stain on the floor. “No, that’s not true.”
“Yes! It is! You were to die! But instead the Fates were thwarted! Your head was to leave your body and be carried on the belt of the son of a man you slew! The man who killed your father! His son was to avenge him!”
Shaken, Aeron adamantly wagged his head. “No, this is not true! My mother saw my future...she told me...”
“She lied! You were to die and she sent you away, defying the Fates! Since then, the tapestry they wove for your life has been unfurling. The Fates attempted to set things right, but you slayed all they sent against you!”
“This is a lie!” Aeron barked at the frightened woman. His imposing form loomed over her and the frightened temple helper cowering beside her.
“I tell no lies! You’re very life defies the gods! You have stepped outside the will of the Fates. The life you live now is stolen!” The Oracle was clearly terrified of Aeron, but unable to stop the words pouring out of her mouth. “The one beside you is an abomination created to justify your life! It is all a lie!”
“Do not speak of her that way!” Aeron’s face flushed a dark red and his hand gripped the hilt of his dagger.
“Aeron!” Vanora shouted, hoping if he could see her, he could also hear her.
“All you believe is lies. All of it!”
“Please stop talking to him,” the assistant murmured, attempting to pull the Oracle away from the enraged man before them.
“You’re a fraud!” Aeron kicked the shards of pottery out of his way and stomped through the wine to tower over the petrified duo. “Retract your statement before I cut out your lying tongue!”
“You should fall on your dagger and set things right,” the Oracle retorted, unable to stop her gift from spewing out words that only fanned the flames of Aeron’s anger. “You should be long dead!”
“Liar! Fraud! Thief!” Aeron hissed at her. “My mother is a descendent of the gods themselves. She would never lie to me!”
“She is a liar most foul!”
The helper clamped his hands over the Oracle’s mouth. “She’s drunk! She doesn’t mean it!”
Looming over the frightened couple, Aeron abruptly looked every inch the terrifying creature Vanora had seen the night before in Carlotta’s home. Misery washed over her. Aeron was already slipping into the darkness that would consume him.
Crouching before the Oracle, Aeron drew out his dagger. “Tell me you’re lying. Admit that you’re a liar and a thief, leave this holy place with only the clothes on your back, and I will spare you.”
“Aeron,” Vanora pleaded overcoming her fear and rushing to his side. “Aeron, let her be.”
The helper’s hand over the Oracle’s mouth pressed down harder. The man’s dark eyes were terrified. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying!”
“Then she shouldn’t pretend to be an oracle!” Aeron grabbed the other man’s wrist and tore his hand from the old woman’s mouth.
“But I’ve told you the truth! You should have died that night! You should be in the realm of the dead!” the Oracle screeched into Aeron’s face, foam flecking her lips. “You should be dead and not walking amongst the living!”
“I will be a god!” Aeron shouted back. “I will become a son of the night! Feast on the blood of my enemies!”
“The Fates have been defied! Take your dagger and plunge it into a heart that should no longer beat!”
Aeron moved so swiftly, Vanora didn’t fully grasp what he was doing until he tossed the old woman’s tongue aside and blood splattered the floor.
“There,” he said, panting heavily. “You will deceive people no more.”
Emotionally drained and numbed by the violence, Vanora watched the fragments of his escape through tears.
Caught bits of his fight through a mob.
Saw his skill as a warrior.
Beheld his magic serving him well.
Witnessed his sprint into the olive groves
Observed his bath in a spring to remove the Oracle’s blood.
Wept as he sat beneath a new moon and howled in despair.
Then followed as he sought passage far away from the Oracle’s temple.
And then, they huddled on the deck of a merchant boat, watching the blue waters of the Mediterranean turn black as the sun set.
“She was lying,” Aeron muttered fiercely under his breath.
But his tone held doubt.
The port where they arrived was bustling with activity and obviously belonged to one of the larger coastal cities. Upon disembarking, Aeron was instantly swallowed into the crowds. Keeping his head down and his cloak draped over his body, he maneuvered with ease and purpose. As always Aeron seemed to know exactly where he was supposed to go. Vanora trailed behind him, drawn by the spell that would not release her. Dismally, she wondered how much longer she’d ha
ve to travel with Aeron through his past.
She couldn’t endure the thought of seeing Aeron kill and transform Armando.
Armando...
To think of him made her heart ache beneath the heavy mantle of guilt. How could she love Aeron and Armando? She supposed the answer was simple even if it felt complicated. Aeron was the man she was destined to be with. Armando was the man she wanted to be with.
Aeron glanced over his shoulder, as if seeking her out. She doubted he could see her. It was only when in sacred places or under the auspices of mystical energy that she was revealed to him. The phases of the moon, the cave beneath the waterfall, the temple...
Did he sense her unhappiness with him?
Or did he detect the betrayal of her heart?
Did he know she loved another, too?
Even though she looked at Aeron with longing that seared her to the core, she would never allow herself to be with him. The moment in the Oracle’s temple had revealed that the cruelty within him was not rooted in his vampire nature, but in his human one.
Vanora wanted the spell to end. She didn’t want to see his searching gaze and the worry in his amethyst eyes. Against her will, she was drawn along behind him. She didn’t even have to take a step. The world merely slipped past her as he strolled onward through the throng of humanity filling the streets. The spell had her securely tethered to his existence, a fact that depressed her even further.
This time, Aeron did not stop to play with children and share bits of his leftover meals with them. He didn’t stare with intrigue at the wares of the merchant, or give shy looks at the prostitutes.
He walked with purpose toward the outskirts of the port town. The excitement in his eyes and the anxiety in his gait indicated that perhaps he was at the end of his journey.
Vanora wanted to close her eyes and awaken in her own world. She didn’t want to see Aeron’s continued fall from grace.
Instead, she joined his grueling trek up the side of a rugged mountain
Then, at last, Aeron arrived at his destination.
Hidden above narrow pathways and difficult climbs was a majestic palace tucked into a deep chasm and hewn into the rock. The entrance flanked by pillars opened onto a courtyard surrounded on all sides by the mountain. The moon was full and beautiful above the tranquil garden filled with only night blooming flowers. Aeron cautiously scaled down the rock face, his fingers digging into the crevices while his feet struggled to find footholds.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season Page 9