Page 85 of Rituals & Rivalry

“Uh-huh.” She tilts her head. “I’d offer you a tarot reading, but I know you’re working with Jewel. She’s a better reader than I am.”

Right.” I nod. “I’m good.”

“Okay…” She says the single word in a sing-song voice. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I lift my glass. “I have everything I need, thanks.”

As soon as she’s gone, my attention falls back to Aurora.

Why am I torturing myself like this? What do I get out of making my stomach sick? I should go.

She’s not laughing anymore, which hurts for a new reason. It’s so rare to see her face twist with genuine anger—I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before, but it does now. She pushes the guy away from her, and it’s not until then that I realize how close they are. He’s holding her elbow.

He’s still smiling. She isn’t.

The barstool scrapes against the floor as I find my way to my feet, setting my drink aside carelessly.

Before I can make it to her, fire lights up her fingertips, and she pushes harder. Burning him. Rightfully so. The man tumbles onto the floor. And while security moves toward him, clearly recognizing what’s happening, Aurora flees.

I follow after her, standing about a foot back. “Are you all right? I saw what happened.”

Her shoulders quiver, and she twirls around to look at me. “I’m fine. Just going home. I-it’s fine.”

Hesitantly, I step closer. “You don’t want to press charges?”

“No.” She lets out a chaotic laugh, devoid of humor. “There’s no point. Some guy gets a little handsy? Please, no one will care. They don’t even care when they do worse.”

I nod somberly. She’s right, but that doesn’t mean I like the reality of the situation. Aurora doesn’t need me to save her. She already saved herself; she’s more powerful than she gives herself credit for.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sure she’s safe. As far as I know, her family still isn’t home. She’s going home alone, and I don’t trust men, especially not men like that.

“It’s a long ride home,” I say. “Let me drive you.”

Her lower lip quivers. “You’re not drunk?”

I shake my head. “Just one drink.” And I didn’t even get to finish that, but I have a feeling pointing that out will make her feel bad. Not my intention. “C’mon.”

When I lead her to my car, she follows, and relief settles into my bones when we’re driving away from town. She’s safe now, and I’ll make sure I can keep her that way, even if I have to sleep in my car for the night outside her house.

Maybe that’s taking it a bit far.

She’s silent until I drive up the cobbled street to the cottage, and when I park, her movements toward the handle are slow. Cautious. Fingers brushing metal. She looks at me from the corner of her eye. “I have a weird question.”

I lift my eyebrows slightly. “The only kind of question I’d expect from you.”

She snorts. “Do you want to sleep over? Like, with our clothes on. Just because, you know, everyone’s gone and⁠—”

“Yes.” I don’t let myself linger on the question for too long, and I definitely don’t focus on my feelings around it. How readily I answer. How much relief there is in knowing she won’t be alone. Without saying another word, I exit the car and stride toward the entrance.

“You don’t have to,” she says, trailing after me. “I mean, if it’s weird, you can sleep in Leo’s bed. I don’t think he cares about having strangers in his bed, and you’re not really a stranger.”

The cottage door blows open before we make it there. I have a feeling Aurora locked up—I would hope—but this house truly has a mind of its own.

“I want to stay with you,” I say firmly, turning to Aurora. “For as long as you’d like. Until your family comes home, if that makes you most comfortable.”

She looks up at me with starry eyes and parted lips. “Really?”

I nod, holding the door open and ushering her inside.