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“Well, I am certainly not the Cure.” Mac smirked, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps away.

“But it suggests that we need you to find it.” My mind was screaming. Was I confusing the need for him to assist in finding the Cure with feelings for him?

He shook his head. “How could that be? Allow me to send Isla a photo of the lineage and see what she knows.”

In silence, I opened the lineage on top of the blueprint. I couldn’t deny him this because, even to me, it made no sense. Mac held his phone above it, snapped a photo of each page, and sent a text.

Only one other person might know. I gritted my teeth, apprehension at calling her and at the situation opening a pit in my stomach. What did Mac have to do with the O’Cillians that he was required to find the Cure related to their family? “I should probably call my aunt and let her know I’m all right and won’t be coming home just yet,” I said.

Mac nodded. “Go ahead. Unless you plan to return to your room and lock me out again.”

I tilted my head. “How—“

He shrugged before he spoke without a care. “I felt the magic as I passed your door.”

I gave him a half smile. “It’s not that kind of phone call.”

“Understood,” he said, his voice softening. “Before you call, would you like to heal your ankle?”

I shivered at the thought followed by a slight thrill. The idea felt so foreign and intimate. I couldn’t hide the nervousness in my voice. “Will it have any other effects?”

“You must be cautious until the blood metabolizes, but it shouldn’t take long. If you die with vampire blood in your system, then...”

“Then what?” My chest tightened because I knew the answer, but I needed to hear it—hear how the idea of it affected him.

Mac stared deep into my eyes, his gaze soft as though there were words yet unspoken. I had to strain to hear him speak. “Youwill no longer be a witch. You will become a vampire, and you’ll have twenty-four hours to decide whether to feed or perish.”

The way he spoke struck something inside me, as though it was a position he would never want to see me in—a choice he would never ask me to make. My throat tightened. “What about those mates who don’t wish to turn but are injured? They must have vampire blood in their system, right?”

Mac nodded. “And sometimes that is how they choose to die. They cannot bear the thought of consuming living blood.”

I glanced at my ankle. It wasn’t painful, but it was hindering our progress. And I couldn’t deny the intimacy of the act drove me forward as well, as I remembered being cradled in his arms with my head lying on his chest as he took me from the cave. My heart fluttered as my stomach knotted. “Would you? Please,” I said, my tone almost formal but unable to form all the words.

How would this happen? Would he want me to take it from him?

My thoughts raced as Mac moved to a crystal decanter set and retrieved a glass. He bit into his wrist, a stream matching the stone of my ring cascading into the glass. He returned to stand in front of me, his eyes holding my gaze with an unspoken question. I raised my hand and laid it on the cool crystal, my fingers brushing his, sending butterflies through my stomach.

“Well-aged.” He smirked as he let go.

I struggled to break away from his eyes as I held the elixir for what felt like an eternity. I looked at it, then at him, and lowered it in front of me, a hand gripping my heart as I stared at the crimson liquid.

“You only need the smallest sip.” His voice projected such a calm that I focused on my ring. There wasn’t a hint of burning in my finger as I realized I trusted him to guide me in the right way, this vampire I’d known for such a short time.

I raised the glass to my lips and sipped, my throat tight, anticipating a rancid assault. It had a subtle flavor, like saltwater taffy with an earthy undertone, and was thick as molasses. My body shivered, a sense of euphoria gripping my heart as Mac’s blood rolled down my throat, tingling, filling me with calm. After just a taste, I wanted more. I struggled to pull his essence from my lips and to keep my face steady as I set it down. “How will I know if it’s working?”

Mac was about to answer when my ankle prickled.

“Never mind.” I smiled at him as I reached for my phone and dialed my aunt’s number. Mac stood next to the desk near my chair, his hands resting at his sides, a blank expression on his face. Did he regret what he had just done? I certainly did not, my insides warm, my heart beating steadily in gratitude.

Amara answered before the first ring finished. “Aurora Silverstorm, that better be you.”

“Hi, Aunt Amara,” I said, the taste of the blood sweetening my tongue. I wanted to close my eyes and savor the remnants of it.

Her voice was sharp. “Where are you? Evangeline said you were on your way home. And you’re bringing a lineage?”

I shrugged. “Change of plans, again.”

“Are you still with that vampire?” I struggled to interpret her tone. Was she annoyed or concerned?