Page 188 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
He steeled his spine, broadened his shoulders, and readied himself for the smoke. For the flames. For the chaos. His heart gushed. He could not ready himself for that. For loss.
He could not lose Aurora.
His breath snagged in his lungs. All was still. All was quiet. People sat on cream sofas, and they smiled and talked in gentle whispers. Others walked through the flowerpotted corridor as if nothing was happening. As if his Aurora was not bleeding. As if his love, his only love, was not dying. Without him.
‘Aurora!’It was bellow, a scream, louder, rawer than the one he had screamed to the skies, to the gods, the morning Amelia had died.
Aurora would not die.
He would not allow it.
He would forsake the gods.
He would make them bring her back.
All eyes turned to him. Mouths dropped. A man in black walked towards him. His shoulders squared.
A guard wouldn’t stop him.
‘Where is she?’ Sebastian demanded.
‘He’s with me.’ Esther suddenly appeared behind the man. Her perfect black bob cut slashed across her determined brown-skinned jaw. She walked toward him. Looked up into his face, which was still staring down the man who barred his way to Aurora. But she was here. In one of these rooms. And he would find her.
She gripped his elbow. ‘He’s with me,’ she said again, and he could not examine it. He could not think clearly. He could only think of Aurora. She needed him. And he was too late. But it meant something. Esther holding his elbow, claiming him as hers. Protecting him from confrontation.
‘He’s the father,’ she continued. ‘Aurora Arundel,’ she explained. ‘She’s in recovery.’
The rage that filled his vision, aimed at this stranger, this man who meant him no harm, whose job it was to protect those in the hospital, dissipated.
Sebastian’s shoulders sagged. He dropped his gaze to Esther’s wide brown eyes. Bruises sat beneath her usually immaculately made-up eyes. Tightness bracketed her colourless mouth.
‘Recovery?’ he asked, and it was a prayer on his lips. ‘She’s…she’s alive?’
She nodded. ‘She’s alive.’
Alive…She wasn’t dead. She was not lost to him.
‘Take me to her.’
Esther shook her head. ‘She needs a little time.’
There was no time. He was already late. She was hurting. He’d sent her away to protect her, but he hadn’t, he couldn’t…
He could not breathe.
He’d failed her.
‘Take me to her,’ he demanded.‘Now.’
He needed to see her. To know she was alive. To hold her. Breathe her in and fall to his knees, and beg for her forgiveness.
He had been wrong. So very wrong to send her away.
He would follow her everywhere she went now.
He would follow her into the light and let the sun flay the skin from his flesh, if that is what it took to be with her.
Esther’s fingers tightened on his elbow. ‘There’s someone you should meet first.’
