Page 78 of Beast of Blood and Roses
Chapter Forty-Five
Aurora
Fierro’s Lamborghini Huracán purred down the narrow road, its engine a low growl that matched my nervous energy. Spanish moss draped the ancient oak trees like ghostly curtains as we drove to Tobias Nightshade’s mansion. According to Fierro, he owned a sprawling estate deep in the bayou, and the Nightshades had lived there for generations. They were one of the most powerful witch families in New Orleans.
Butterflies fluttered anxiously in my stomach as we drove through the winding bayou roads. My inner thighs still ached pleasantly from our passionate lovemaking. Maybe we should have continued exploring each other’s bodies, but I was determined to meet my new family. Twenty years. Twenty years stolen from me, twenty years of never knowing I had people who might have loved me, protected me. I needed to see them, to understand what I’d lost.
What if I wasn’t accepted? What if they took one look at meand knew I wasn’t really their Aurora? What if twenty years of living as Rosalie Volaris had changed me too much?
What would my uncle be like—would he be kind? Stern? Would I see my mother in his face?
“I should tell you some family history,” Fierro said, glancing at me with concern. “Tobias was imprisoned by Grayson Allen, a vampire who was trying to become a supernatural king. He was freed by his daughter Rose, her husband Valentin, their friends, and...” He paused. “The Archangels.”
I could feel the blood drain from my face. “Archangels.” The word sent ice through my veins. After everything I’d learned about them, this couldn’t be good.
“Michael and Raphael, yes.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “And the vampire mafia families aren’t exactly on their list of favorite people.”
A new worry twisted in my gut. Would my family accept Fierro? Or would his past as a vampire enforcer make me choose between them and him?
Fierro drove around a grove of ancient oak trees draped with Spanish moss and slowed as a sprawling mansion appeared before us like a piece of the Old South frozen in time. “That’s the Nightshade home.”
My heart thundered in my chest as he turned down the long, oak-lined driveway. The mansion was breathtaking—white columns stretched from the ground to the second-story veranda, and the entire structure seemed to glow in the late afternoon light filtering through the moss-covered trees.
As we parked in the circular driveway, the front door opened as if someone had been watching for our arrival. A tall, dark-haired man emerged from the mansion and began walking down the grand front steps with measured, deliberatemovements. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt left casually open at the collar and black pants that spoke of understated elegance.
My stomach twisted with a mixture of hope and terror. This man might hold all the answers about who I really was, but I was terrified of what those answers might be.
Even from a distance, there was something about his bearing—the way he carried himself with quiet authority—that made me think of power barely contained. Was this my uncle? Did I look like him? Like my mother?
I glanced nervously over at Fierro, my palms suddenly damp with sweat. He clasped my hand in his warm, reassuring grip. “I’m here,” he said firmly, his emerald eyes meeting mine with a steady conviction. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
His words steadied me, reminding me that no matter what happened with my family, I wasn’t alone anymore. I had someone who would stand by me, protect me, love me unconditionally.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and opened the car door. The humid bayou air wrapped around me like a warm embrace as I stepped onto the gravel driveway.
The man’s dark eyes flicked over me with an intensity that made me feel like he was seeing straight through to my soul. “Aurora Nightshade Ravencrest.” His voice held a mixture of wonder and deep pain, as if he’d been waiting twenty years to say those words aloud.
My full name. My real, complete name. The words felt like magic, like a fairy tale coming to life, and I felt tears spring to my eyes. I wasn’t just Aurora—I was Aurora Nightshade Ravencrest. I had a history, a lineage that went back generations.
He bowed slightly with old-world courtesy. “I’m TobiasNightshade. Your mother, Sophia, was my sister. Welcome to my home.”
“You have your mother’s eyes, and from what Tinker Bell told me, you have your father’s spirit,” the man said softly, and there was such tenderness in his voice that tears pricked at my eyes. “Come with me. You too, Fierro Bastia.”
I glanced up at Fierro, searching his face for reassurance. He nodded encouragingly, his thumb stroking over my knuckles.
Together we climbed the stairs and followed Tobias inside the mansion. It was absolutely breathtaking—gleaming hardwood floors, a spiral staircase that curved gracefully upward, and crystal chandeliers that cast rainbows of light across the walls. Paintings hung in the living room that seemed to tell a story, a story I longed to find out about. The lush furniture, crystal lighting, and expensive Persian rugs were far nicer than the worn, threadbare carpet at my old home.
But it was the painting above the fireplace that drew my attention. It was the same couple I had seen in my dream—the dark-haired woman who had amber eyes like mine and the handsome man with the kind smile.
Tobias came quietly alongside me as I gazed at the portrait. “I had this painted of them shortly after they were married. Your mother was pregnant with you at the time, even though you can’t tell in the painting.”
My throat tightened with emotion as I stared at my real parents. They looked so happy, so trusting. They had no idea what kind of monster was lurking in their lives. “How did they know Volaris?”
“They were the guardians of our family heirlooms. When you were just one month old, Volaris broke into their home and tried to steal the Witch’s Heart. They caught him in the act.”Tobias’ eyes grew hard with old anger. “A terrible battle erupted between them. Your father cast a desperate spell, sending the Witch’s Heart out of their home to keep it from Volaris’ hands. Somehow it ended up at Simon Cartier’s auction house, and that’s where the vampires must have purchased it.”
“Most likely,” Fierro confirmed. “Angelo Santi has obtained many magical artifacts from Simon over the years.”
“He’ll have to find a new avenue since Simon is deceased,” Tobias said with grim satisfaction.
