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Runa tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Where I got them is none of your business. But you’ll be leaving them with me.”

I stood, stepping closer, the flask still in hand. “And what happens if I don’t?”

Her gaze hardened. “There’s a truce in place, Cormac. You know that as well as I do. Aiden may have forgotten it, but you…” Her smile widened. “You’re a man of your word.”

She was right. As much as I wanted to rip the truth from her throat, there was nothing I could do about any of it. Notwithout breaking the very truce that kept us from all-out war in Waterford as well as the one in Charleston. Still, every instinct in me screamed I couldn’t let her walk away with these flasks. How was she filling them? I handed it back to her, my grip tightening one last time before releasing it, my fingers lingering just long enough to feel the cool metal against my skin. “How did you come about these?” I asked, my voice low, struggling to conceal my rage.

Her eyes glittered with amusement as she took the flask from my hand. “Ah, the man of the family acting as only a boy. If you’re that curious, Cormac,” she said, her voice laced with mockery, “perhaps you should ask your father.”

Conall bristled beside me, taking a threatening step forward. I held up a hand, commanding him to stop.

“You know where our father is?” I asked, my voice a dangerous whisper.

Runa shrugged, turning back toward the water as if the conversation bored her. “Perhaps I do. Perhaps I don’t.” She cast a sidelong glance at Conall, her lips curling into a smirk.

Conall’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t know why we ever made a deal with you.”

“You sound like Aiden,” Runa taunted, her eyes glittering with dark amusement.

I turned to face Conall, grabbing his arm and reaching my own across his chest. “Brother, don’t.” With one last glare in her direction, I led Conall away from the beach. My mind was a storm of unanswered questions, but one thing was clear—whatever Runa was doing with those flasks was nothing good. But that was a problem for another day. I would add it to the growing list. Right now, I needed that grimoire—and to figure out how to tell Aurora her coven had a different purpose than just keeping the balance between good and evil.

Aurora

We sat in the back of the car, our hands intertwined, Mac’s thumb tracing my forefinger. Warm, stagnant air hung between us, more likely heavy from unspoken words than anything else. The leather seat creaked as I shifted.

Joshua’s eyes remained fixed on the road. Beside him, Dani stared into the black night. In the trunk, my backpack lay packed again. I was finally headed home this time.

I glanced out the window, the idea of “home” stirring unease in my chest. After speaking with Amara, I wasn’t sure the place I was returning was the same as the one I’d left behind.

Joshua navigated the winding streets with ease. The dim light of Dani’s phone painted faint shadows across the dashboard.The occasional flash of a streetlamp illuminated the deep lines on Mac’s face.

“Sir?” Dani’s hesitant voice broke the quiet.

“Yes, Dani,” Mac spoke just above a whisper.

“I’ve just heard from Paul. The flight is ready. We can depart as soon as we board the plane.”

“Thank you, Dani.”

Mac’s silence had deepened after his walk with Conall. His jaw clenched now, eyes distant. I squeezed his hand, wanting to bring him back to me. He gave me a slight smile, his eyes looking at our joined hands, before staring out the window again.

I shook my head and turned to look out my window. There were so many questions surrounding Mac, so many tangled threads, the most complicated being his interactions with the O’Cillians—his comfort around the manor and Conall, the similarities between Mac’s family and his. And I had nothing but the faint nagging that Mac was withholding the real truth. I remembered his quiet confession in the cave, the way he’d sneak away to swim in that cave alone. I shifted in my seat again, biting my lip and fighting the confusion that swirled in both my head and heart.

Were the happenings at Dún Na Farraige like Oak Leaf Hallow? Two hundred years ago, my ancestors taught young witches the craft at the plantation. The apothecary gardens still bloomed, and brides flocked to the ornamental gardens, long renowned for the plants we sold, for their wedding photos. Had vampires learned how to function among humans at the manor as the young witches learned to function at home?

Mac’s hand tightened around mine, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re very quiet,” he said, his voice soft, almost coaxing.

I turned from the window, locking eyes with him, those familiar ocean-blue depths searching mine. “I could say the same about you.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry. What are you thinking of?”

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “There are just some things that don’t make sense.”

“Vampires rarely do.”

I glanced down at our hands, intertwined so easily, but my chest tightened with doubt. Did I really know this man sitting beside me?

I sighed, my eyes tracing the familiar depths of his, so like the waters we’d swum in earlier. “It isn’t just that, Mac.”