Page 34 of Lunar Desires (Celestial Magic #2)

My boys. How can I be a mother to such sacred sons when I’m covered in shame?

Crap. That hit hard. As did the next part.

They’re gone. My darling boys. They’re gone and I must go.

But first, I want to give them something.

If you are reading this, my dear sons, please turn the page.

Tears burned in my eyes. This really hurt, sorrow raking talons across my being.

Mum…

This is my mum.

Shaking with trepidation and sadness, I turned the page.

Dearest Isaac, Riley, and Preston,

I’m sorry I couldn’t be a mother to you. Truly, I don’t deserve you. But know that I love you more than I can say in these pages.

However, I can share a valuable lesson with you to guide your journey with sacred magic.

The Aurora blood is a potent weapon. A gift and a curse. If you’re not careful, it can consume you in arrogance, in rage. Both even. There will be a darkness within you, even though you are bathed in blessings from the goddess.

But know this is Hecate’s will. You are chosen for a reason.

She understands the responsibility she’s placed on our family, and she wants us to embrace it.

To understand we are strong. We can be our best selves if we allow ourselves to be.

She doesn’t want you to lose yourself, but she also understands the fragilities of the human heart.

A contradiction, isn’t it?

An inner darkness does not mean you’re evil. It’s a fuel for a great fire. Embrace it, wield it as a weapon. It shouldn’t consume, but enhance your power. Be at one with it. I’ve struggled with it myself over the years, and you will too.

Be strong. Be resilient. Repurpose any arrogance into confidence, yet never be cocky. This only leads to disaster.

And rely on each other. Never lose sight of your bond. It’s the most important lesson I can give you. You’re individuals, yet also one great power. Always remember that.

I wish I’d received some of this wisdom from my mother back then. Maybe things would be different. But it’s over now.

I hope these words help.

Be better than we were.

Goodbye, my darlings.

I’m so sorry for everything.

I’m so sorry for being so weak.

With all my love from here into the next life,

Your Adoring Mother,

Juliet Aurora

Silent tears rolled free, mourning a woman I never knew, and a stolen life.

A kernel of anger joined my sadness. For Hecate allowing this to happen. What purpose did it serve to tear my family apart? And I knew families around the world were constantly torn apart in awful circumstances, which only brought on a stab of guilt to temper my inner complaining.

How dare I whine when so many had it super bad? But at the same time, this wasn’t fair. We could’ve been a family. We could’ve been?—

No. Not this. Never this. What was done was done. I wouldn’t allow my soul to sour on top of everything else. I couldn’t rot in anger and darkness. I just couldn’t be that person.

I closed the diary, letting out a heavy sigh as Juliet’s words sank in.

Mum. Not Juliet…

Her words alleviated some of the tension inside me. Just like that, as if she’d kissed my forehead and told me it’d be okay.

I didn’t have to lose myself. My blood might stir these violent urges, but they were a weapon, to be infused into the good fight. They didn’t have to destroy me or turn me into a monster.

I can still be me…

She’d smoothed the road a little for me. As long as I held onto myself, never allowing myself to slip into Uncle Jonathon territory, I’d be okay.

Never. I’d never be like him.

“Thank you…Mum…” I said, gazing up at the chandelier.

The glass teardrops glistened, winking back at me. I smiled, liking the idea of her sending me a message through the light fixture.

“Who are you talking to?”

Isaac stood in the doorway in expensive, white silk pajamas, leaning against the doorframe. Complete with bedhead and a yawn.

“What are you doing up?” I countered.

He yawned again. “Couldn’t sleep.” He sauntered over, taking a pew beside me on the loveseat.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yep. You?”

I offered him the diary. “I think you should read this.”

He took it. “Mickey Mouse?”

“It’s Mum’s diary.” I inhaled sharply. “Oh…”

“Mum? As in Juliet?”

I touched the base of my throat, shocked by myself. “Y-yeah…”

He gave me a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “It’s fine to call her that, you know? She is our mum.”

I realized I didn’t know much about Isaac’s family. I knew he had an older brother who was an architect, and his parents divided their time between Los Angeles and Cheshire. Not much else. He kept them hidden, always dodging the subject.

I guess in time he’d talk about them one day. Learning we’d been adopted wasn’t easily swallowed or processed. But I always made sure to let him know I was a safe space for him. Always. And I would be for Preston, too. Whenever we found him.

Isaac read the diary. When he reached the end of it, he closed it, his forehead creased in a frown. “Fuck.”

“I know.” I put an arm around him.

He rested his head on my shoulder. “That was…hard.”

I sniffled, his gentle tone triggering the waterworks again. “I’m going to call my mum tomorrow. Arrange a dinner with her.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll ask her about Dad. About what happened.”

God, the thought of it brought on a wave of anxiety. She’d blow her top for sure, but I had to know the truth about what happened to him.

Correction: We needed to know.

Isaac handed the diary back to me, getting to his feet. “This day has been too much.”

“I’ll say.”

He shook his head, facing the door. “Need to sleep it off some more.”

“I’m here if you want to talk.”

He smiled. “You’re such a cutie, little brother. But fuck today. Sleep and a new sunrise will clear my head.”

“Good plan.”

After a mighty yawn to end all yawns, he turned to face me. “Don’t stay up too late.” He ruffled my hair. “And likewise. I’m always here to talk. Just not now.”

“Understood.”

With another ruffle of my tresses, he left the library.

Five minutes later, I returned to my room with some cookies to find Drake sitting at the desk by the window, sketching something.

He loved to draw. A massive passion along with comic books, his ultimate dream was to create his own series one day.

Drake looked up from his work, the soft lighting painting his face in a beautiful glow, enhancing the mesmerizing copper hues of his skin. Flecks of gold from the light danced in his dark eyes, my heart racing under their scrutiny.

“Alright?” he asked.

Just call me enthralled. “Yeah. You?” Every inch of me tingled, brought on by the caress of his minty aroma.

“I am,” he said. “Quiet night.”

“Thank God.”

“Absolutely.”

I sat on the bed, drawing some deep breaths. “Been baking.”

He eyed the Tupperware. “I can see.” Here came the exquisite smile.

“Want some?”

He got to his feet, making his way to sit beside me. “I’d love some.”

There was that sexy purr again, along with a disarming lick of his lips.

So close.

So wonderfully close.

I popped the top off the Tupperware, the sweet scent wafting up at us.

He closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure. “Mmmm. So good.”

My cock twinged. “You think so?”

Drake opened those yummy peepers. “Always.” He cupped my face, tracing his thumb under my right eye. “You’ve been crying.”

Dammit. Did I look rough? “I…I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

His eyes were exploratory orbs boring down to my core. “Are you sure?”

Delicious heat raced in my veins, my heartbeat a melody spurring me into a kiss.

I joined my lips to his, needing nothing more than his warmth and his touch right now. He kissed me back with tender yet hungry fervor, his tongue slipping into my mouth.

Yum.

His hand slid to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.

Talking could wait. This day needed a joyful ending.

No more giving my anxiety extra rope to strangle me with.

Bring the good stuff.

Hard.

I broke the kiss, my lips buzzing. “I…” I couldn’t get the words out.

He ran his fingers through my hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” God, his voice was always enough to destroy my reason. “Are you too tired?”

He smirked, running his little finger along my jawline. “For what?”

My cheeks heated. “You know…” I giggled with a wriggle of my eyebrows.

He brushed his nose against mine. “I’m not sure. You’ll have to use your words.” He threw me the cheekiest of winks.

Ah, so he wanted to play games? Fine.

I slid off the bed, heading for my underwear drawer.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, the richness of his voice making my balls say howdy.

God, I was so hard, my cock aching with need.

“You just wait there,” I instructed, taking out a pair of pink boxers.

“What are you up to, sexypie?”

No one had ever given me a nickname before. And it sounded so, well, scrumptious on his tongue.

Talk about putting a massive spring in my step. Just call me Tigger from Winnie the Pooh .

Without answering, I slipped into the bathroom, bursting with horniness and confidence.

The latter wasn’t a common trait in me, especially when it came to my physical appearance.

But with one word, he’d given me courage to do this.

Yeah, I’d been naked with him before, but it didn’t stop my body dysmorphia rocking the boat.

Tonight, Drake steadied the waters.

I removed my PJs, pulling on my underwear. I’d bought them for the slogan, and now I’d finally get to test them out on a set of hungry eyes.

Hungry eyes for me.

Fixing my hair a little, my skin flushed with the yummy kind of heat, I stepped back into the bedroom.

Drake sat on his knees, watching me with a bulge in his black sweatpants. I paused, taking in his muscular arms, how the black tee clung to him so perfectly. A teasing fabric, hiding his splendor.

Oh, you’ll be so gone soon, you pesky piece of cotton!