Page 7 of Her Ghostly Embrace
Aurora pounced on the pause in his monologue. “Wouldn’t binding oaths between leaders be a more secure way to begin an alliance than marriage? Why leave room for?—”
“Silence until I’ve finished speaking, child. I didn’t ask for your input.” Stan Thornfield, leader of their coven, glared at her as if she were no more than a nuisance.
Aurora didn’t bother protesting being called a child at age twenty-five. It wasn’t a hill worth dying on. The rest, however… “It’s my life. I get a say in who Imarry.”
“Aurora.” Her mother, Virginia Thornfield, was red-faced, her glare even fiercerthan Stan’s.
Aurora’s uncle raised his hand. Magic flared, and Aurora’s heart sank. A silencing spell wound around her throat like ice, yet her blood boiled.
Uncle Stan smirked. “It is your duty to support the coven, Aurora. As any lady should. Harper Nightingale will be the kind of husband you need if he’s anything like his father. The Nightingales are exemplary. Their coven is powerful, and you’re well aware that allying with like-minded worshipers of our Damned Lord is more important now than ever. Especially with covens from outside our region.”
Because sane covens didn’t tolerate Satan worshipers like the Thornfields. Not when their bullshit leaked out of their compounds and into the community.
Uncle Stan barreled on. “Since you’ve expressed no interest in dating anyonesuitable, not a single man or woman committed to Satan, you’re perfectly placed to make this match. As close to a daughter of my own as I have.”
Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table. The room was full of men—all Stan’s trusted advisors and enforcers. A group of arrogant people who thought they could tell Aurora who to marry, and the thought made her sick.
No, it made her murderous.
Each and every one of these sorry excuses for witches was lucky that the forced blood loyalty running through her veins prevented her from striking against them, or they’d all burn.
Blood loyalty was old, evil magic. Aurora couldn’t attack or cast spells against any member of the Thornfield Coven who outranked her, and of course, they all did. Obedience had been sewn into her skin. From birth, the magic running through her betrayed her by enforcing a hierarchy controlled by the coven leader. Everyone at the top was untouchable, and those who weren’t were at their mercy.
That much control would have been bad enough, but hercoven had taken blood binding a step further. Preventing vulnerable members from fighting back was all well and good until those people ran away. To close this last remaining door, Stan had bound their bloodline to the very land they lived on.
Aurora was tied to the coven’s compound by her magic, by her very blood and bones, held in place by the dirt beneath her feet, though she wasn’t permanently confined. Everyone in the coven moved about wider society to some extent, but Stan had the power to recall Aurora to coven land and stop her from leaving.
As long as she was tied to this place, Aurora would never be free. But she’d been working on a way around the binding. Seemed she needed to speed up her escape timeline. Immediately.
Aurora’s mother began talking about the engagement feast, acting as if trading her daughter for access to another coven’s power was some kind of honor. To Virginia, it probably was. She was as bad as Uncle Stan, seeing as she’d happily step on everyone around her to push herself up.
“Once married, the couple will remain here. At least for the immediate future,” Uncle Stan said to his advisors. “The Nightingales have important business in the city, and I’ve offered our help.”
Aurora shuddered to think what business it could be. Not that her uncle would tell her. Would her new brute of a husband keep it from her, too? Probably.
Aurora’s skin crawled, her heart racing as she faced a future under yet another person’s control. The walls closed in. Aurora had been trapped her whole life, but suddenly, the feeling was unbearable, dark, and consuming. It strangled her chest until her thoughts scattered, leaving behind an aching hollowness.
She had a way through this. The only way to survive. Urgency to act now, to run from the room, clawed at her insides,but she stayed still as her relatives’ useless words washed over her.
At last, the meeting ended, and Aurora was dismissed. The silencing spell unwound from her throat, and she stormed out of the room.
“Stay close,” Uncle Stan called after her as if it were a request, rather than an order she had no power to disobey. “Your new husband wouldn’t like you out around the city with Satan knows who.”
Aurora’s back stiffened, her footsteps faltering ever so slightly before continuing along the hall. She grabbed her jacket and slid it over her mesh top and bralette combo. She’d been planning to go out anyway, and was surprised her outfit hadn’t garnered a comment or two from her uncle or mother.
They really must have been focused on the marriage arrangement and alliance to pass up the opportunity to criticize her.
Her hands delved into the jacket pockets and found them empty. Patting them frantically, Aurora cursed under her breath.
“Looking for this?” Her mother had followed. She held Aurora’s phone with a smug look on her slender face.
“Why do you have my phone?”
“You heard your uncle. No more gallivanting around. You have more important things to focus on, like the rituals to prepare you for marriage.”
Aurora stared at the woman, her magic sparking uselessly inside her. “I’m not marrying anyone.”
“Suck it up, Aurora. This is part of life. We all have to make sacrifices. The coven is more important than what you want.”
