Page 118 of The Aurora Marelup Complete Saga Omnibus

We travelfor several hours before Ellis finally has enough courage to ask the question that’s been plaguing him. Ellis clears his throat and looks between us. “Is there something I need to know that no one has bothered to tell me?”

Dante looks to me, and I give him permission to tell Ellis since he was absent from the previous explanation. “It’s like this, Ellis; we are literally walking into the bowels of hell. Fire will rain down from the sky, and the dead will walk the earth. You see, the Strigoi will be strongest on their home turf. It’s something about fighting on the soil where their bodies were buried. Now, if we can find the actual burial ground and turn it into consecrated ground, they would lose most of their power if not just turn to ash.”

“Hold up! Back that motha-fuckin’ train up. The Strigoi that are vampires, like old school horror movie vampires, would be affected by blessing their graves?” Ellis always did have a way with words.

“Yes, Father found something in an ancient tome that mentioned such. It’s not exactly clear who would have to do it, but it’s clear as to what’s needed for it to be done,” I say as I look between Dante and Ellis.

Dante starts to pace back and forth within the wagon. “I’ve seen the damage a horde of Strigoi can do. They can tear through their victims in seconds. When you are killed by a Strigoi, the legend says you may return as one if you lived a life of sin. Those who fall in battle must be burned to ash just in case.” Dante crosses his arms over his chest, standing firm with his beliefs.

Aurora’s eyes shift to her beast’s for a moment, then back to human again. “Father says we can also drive a nail into theforehead of the fallen so a proper burial can be performed.” Aurora pauses dramatically before continuing. “As for the graves, he thinks they are along the wall. So we need to bless water and pour it on the soil. We can bless oil and set it on fire before the attack, and whatever Strigoi comes in touch with the smoke will be burned by it. Maybe, if we’re lucky, even be killed.”

“We’re almost at the first campsite for tonight. Once we arrive, let’s make sure everyone is settled, and we can research more before bed,” Dante says.

I move to the front of the wagon and peek out of the blinds to see the makeshift campsite we have for tonight. It’s going to be interesting with everyone out in the open. I’m not very comfortable with the situation, but I know it’s needed to be done. We’re at the halfway point of our journey, and soon enough we’ll be going to war. I can only pray that we make it out with as few losses as possible.

CHAPTER 96

The Betrayal Pt 1

As the caravantrundles along the winding road, I sit amidst the jostling chaos, my thoughts swirling with frustration and impatience. Months spent in the American Lycan camp have revealed little beyond their weakness and disorganization. The Dire Wolves, with their vigilant watch, have kept us at bay, denying us access to the main compound and its secrets.

Now, here I am, trapped in this cluster of wagons, surrounded by strangers and uncertainty. Yet, amidst the frustration, there is a glimmer of hope. With each passing mile, I draw closer to home, to familiar faces and the comfort of my own pack. And best of all, amidst this sea of strangers, I remain hidden, my true identity concealed from prying eyes.

As we draw closer to tonight’s campsite, a sense of unease settles over me like a heavy shroud. The landscape unfolds before us, a desolate expanse of barren plains and rugged terrain, offering little solace or respite from the harsh realities of our journey. Each step forward feels like a battle against the elements, against the unknown forces that lurk in the darkness.

The air is heavy with the scent of burning wood, the acrid smoke mingling with the tang of sweat and fear. Flickering flames cast eerie shadows that dance and twist across thelandscape, distorting reality in their wake. It’s as if the very environment itself is conspiring against us, seeking to obscure our path and hinder our progress.

With each passing moment, the tension mounts, a palpable weight pressing down upon us, suffocating and relentless. I grip my cloth bag tightly, my fingers trembling with anticipation and apprehension. Every sound, every movement, sends a shiver down my spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurk just beyond the edge of our perception.

As I follow the rest of the group, I stick to the shadows like a ghost, silent and unseen. The darkness offers a cloak of anonymity, shielding me from prying eyes and unwanted attention. Yet, even in the safety of the shadows, I cannot shake the feeling of impending doom that hangs heavy in the air.

The campsite pulsates with activity, figures darting to and fro like shadows in the night. Their faces remain shrouded in darkness, adding an air of mystery to their movements. I slip away from the bustling throng, my steps cautious and deliberate as I navigate the labyrinth of tents and wagons.

A cacophony of sounds fills the air, the crackling of the campfire mingling with the murmur of voices and the clatter of pots and pans. Yet beneath the surface of this apparent harmony, a palpable tension simmers, like a coiled serpent waiting to strike.

The scent of burning wood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of cooking food. It’s a seductive fragrance that beckons to me, tempting me to linger. But I know that to do so would be folly, for lurking beneath this facade of warmth and camaraderie lies a deadly threat.

With each step I take, I can feel the weight of the task ahead pressing down upon me. Poisoning the camp and abducting Aurora may be the orders I’ve been given, but executing themwill be no easy feat. Every move I make must be calculated and precise, lest I risk exposing myself and endangering my mission.

As I disappear into the shadows, a sense of foreboding settles over me like a suffocating cloak. The stakes are high, and failure is not an option. In this deadly game of cat and mouse, only the most cunning and ruthless will emerge victorious.

As I lingered in the shadows, a sense of foreboding settled over me like a heavy cloak. Despite the outward appearance of camaraderie and warmth, there was an underlying tension that seemed to hum through the air, palpable and unsettling.

The flickering light of the campfire cast dancing shadows across the faces of those gathered, creating an eerie contrast between the illusion of safety and the lurking danger that lurked just beneath the surface. Every laugh and every jest seemed to ring hollow, drowned out by the weight of my own apprehension.

The comforting aroma of simmering stew hung thick in the air, a stark juxtaposition to the turmoil roiling within me. It was a scent that spoke of home and hearth, of warmth and sustenance, yet beneath its deceptively pleasant facade, lurked the potential for harm.

My mind races with conflicting thoughts and emotions, torn between the desire to protect my brother and the fear of the consequences should my actions be discovered. The choice before me was a daunting one, a delicate balance between duty and morality, and I knew that whatever path I chose would shape the fate of those around me.

With a heavy heart, I am resolved to carry out my assigned task, knowing full well the risks that lay ahead. For the sake of my brother and all those who depended on me, I would do whatever it took to ensure their survival, even if it meant descending into the depths of darkness.

With a heavy heart, I steel myself for what must be done. Ignoring the protests of my conscience, I approach the vat of stew, its contents bubbling and steaming invitingly. In a swift, covert motion, I empty the contents of a vial into the pot, my actions concealed from prying eyes by the cover of darkness.

As I slip away unnoticed, a sense of guilt gnaws at my conscience. But I know that in this brutal game of survival, there can be no room for sentimentality. For the sake of my brother’s life, I must do whatever it takes to ensure our survival, even if it means embracing the darkness that lurks within.

As the camp settles into a seemingly serene rhythm, my senses are on high alert, attuned to every subtle shift in the atmosphere. Aurora’s unwavering vigilance looms over the scene like a shadow, casting a veil of uncertainty over my plans. Each passing moment feels like an eternity as I wait for the opportune moment to make my move.

The water container, left unguarded by Jayce, beckons to me like a siren’s call, offering a fleeting chance to advance my agenda. Yet, the stakes have never been higher, and every decision I make is fraught with tension and risk.

---