7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Raina
The small room we’re in opens into a kitchen. It’s dark until Erik flips a light on, revealing wooden cabinets that look hand-carved. It’s much more beautiful than the kitchen at home. Ours is for the staff to use, but this feels too pretty to hide away.
On the counter in the center of the room is a bowl of apples. They’re red and shiny, and they look so good.
“Can I…” I reach for the fruit even though I know I shouldn’t take it without Erik’s permission. I’m just so hungry. It’s been over a day since I’ve eaten, minus the candy cane I took from my stash when I realized Father wasn’t going to let me have any food today.
“You’re shaking,” Erik says, taking my hand in his. “Am I scaring you that much?”
“Just hungry,” I mumble. “I usually get like this when I haven’t eaten. It goes away after a while, especially if I sleep.”
“Haven’t eaten? You didn’t have dinner?”
“Or lunch.” I stare at the apples longingly. “Or breakfast. Father wasn’t happy when he caught Marissa trying to help me leave.”
“What? Fuck. Fuck .”
My body goes rigid, and I pull back. The only time Father swears is when he’s angry. It usually comes along with yelling and sometimes throwing things at me from across the room.
Panic swells in my throat, and I stumble away from Erik. He’s upset. I can see it on his face, hear it in his voice. His jaw is clenched, and the fury burning in his eyes looks unquenchable.
“I—I’m sorry,” I manage, scampering away when he steps toward me.
This was a mistake. He’s not any different than them. That’s why he was at the auction, not to help me. I should’ve tried to run. I should’ve—
“Raina.” Erik reaches for me, but I jump back.
Tears blur my vision, and for once, I’m grateful for them. I don’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, or the anger that always makes my hair stand on end. It’s so obvious now, what a naive decision coming with him was. Only a fool would believe someone would appear, almost out of thin air, to save her.
You’ll be going from one cage to another.
It’s exactly as Amelia said. I’ve traded one angry, violent man for another. Except this time, there’s no auction to keep me alive for.
My chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe. This room is so large, yet it feels like it’s shrinking, suffocating me. Not a cage. A coffin. A final place to rest, to not have to live anymore.
My back hits the wall, and I realize I’ve been stumbling away from the man advancing toward me. I brace myself, squeezing my eyes closed, wondering if it’ll be quick. Wondering if the stories I’ve read about an afterlife are true, or if there’s nothing, like Marissa said she hopes.
When Erik touches me, I wince on instinct, expecting the sting of pain that comes from Father’s blows. But his touch is gentle. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his lap, and I realize I must’ve sunk to the ground.
I push against him, barely aware of the terrified noise I let out, but he locks me in his embrace.
“Please. Let me help you.”
At the pain in his voice, I stop. His hand comes to rest on my back as I heave in a breath between sobs.
“You’re safe,” he tells me. “I promise you, Raina. As long as I’m with you, you’ll always be safe.”
My head spins. “I d-don’t understand.”
One second, he was so angry, and the next, he has me gathered up in his arms, practically surrounding me with his body. It’s almost like he’s acting as a shield.
“Take a deep breath,” he tells me. “In through your nose if you can, out through your mouth.”
I try, my bottom lip trembling at how gentle his voice is. He whispers commands to me, telling me when to inhale and when to exhale, his hand running up and down my back the entire time.
Slowly, I find myself relaxing into him. There’s something comforting about the way he’s holding me. His arms are around me so tight that I can barely move, but instead of worsening my panic, it eases it.
“Now, tell me why you’re upset,” Erik says once my tears have dried.
I sniffle, trying to piece together my thoughts. “Aren’t you angry with me?”
“What? No, Raina. I wasn’t mad at you.” He cups my chin and tilts it upward so I’m looking at him, his face mere inches from mine. “Never at you.”
“But you swore,” I whisper. “Father only does that when he’s really angry.”
He looks at me for a second with so much pain in his eyes that it makes my heart squeeze. “Were you worried I was going to hurt you?”
I nod.
“Never.” He kisses my forehead, something Lydia did to my half-siblings but never to me. “I’ll never hurt you, Raina.”
“I didn’t do something wrong?”
“No, and I wouldn’t hurt you even if you did.” He kisses me again, this time on each of my cheeks.
“But—but you were angry.” The panic comes back, making my voice waver. “I saw it on your face. Heard it in your voice.”
“I was upset at Charles,” he says soothingly. “For how he’s treated you. For how long it took me to save you.”
“Oh,” I whisper. It’s so strange, seeing someone angry over what Father has done to me. The staff just looks the other way whenever Father hurts me. Marissa tried to help me when we were younger, but eventually, she got used to it, too.
But of course Erik cares. I remember him asking about Father, always narrowing his eyes in suspicion when I didn’t answer directly. Even when he couldn’t protect me, I know he still wanted to.
“Now please, let me feed you,” Erik says softly.
I nod, and he stands, pulling me up with him and not letting go until I’m steady on my own feet. He hands me an apple, and I tentatively bite into it while he rummages around the kitchen. Soon, he has something heating on the stove, and the savory scent fills the air.
“It’s just leftovers,” he tells me apologetically. “I’d make you something from scratch, but I don’t want to make you wait that long.”
Minutes later, he’s pushing me into a seat at the table and setting a bowl of potato soup in front of me. It’s creamy and has chunks of ham in it, and the steam heats my face as I lean over and inhale deeply.
“Eat,” he says, lowering himself into the chair next to me, “and I’ll explain what I can.”
The light catches his scar, and I study him for a moment, wondering where he got it from. Was it an accident? Done intentionally? Maybe his father hurt him the way mine does to me.
“My parents passed not long after I met you,” he says, his words sounding hollow, like they’re only half true. “My uncle took me in and raised me as one of his own. Long story short, I always tried to find you. Well, not exactly. I knew where you were, but I wasn’t sure if I’d made you up. So I infiltrated your father’s circles, trying to find out anything about you that I could. But you were like a ghost. A legend. Some people believed you existed, but most didn’t. I almost gave up more times than I care to admit.”
“But you found me,” I say in between bites of soup.
“I did. I caught wind of the auction and secured myself an invitation. That’s when I came back here. I had to be close to you. Had to see you.”
Something tugs at my mind. A foggy memory, vague from sleepiness. “Last night—”
“It wasn’t a dream. I was in your room.”
Unease passes through me, but it fades when I look into his eyes. He’s watching me with an expression of deep adoration, one that couldn’t be anything but genuine. No one’s ever gazed at me so intently before—not since the days when I met him by the fence.
I’m tempted to pinch myself. I’ve dreamed of this, journaled about it happening in so many different ways. Erik was my only friend. Of course I wished he’d come back for me. And to see him again, and he’s looking at me the same way he did when we were younger?
This can’t be real, my mind whispers.
“I’ve snuck into your bedroom every night since I’ve been back,” he confesses. “I had to see you for myself to finally put my doubts to rest, and then I couldn’t stay away.”
My gaze drops to my soup. Is this normal? I’ve never interacted with a man before—not unless you count family and Father’s staff. Hearing Erik say that he had to see me has butterflies taking flight in my stomach. But… well, it feels strange that he snuck into my room. Why didn’t he wake me up?
“Am I scaring you, Raina?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.”
“I have no intentions of hurting you.”
“I know.” My smile is hesitant but genuine. I do believe him. But I also don’t know how to do this—how to talk to someone who hasn’t watched me grow up. Especially not someone who’s so…
I glance at Erik, taking him in. His shoulders are broad, and he’s much taller than Father. His eyes are the color of cinnamon with some flecks of a darker brown, just like I remember.
“Is that… is that how it normally goes? In the real world?”
“Ah.” He looks away while he rubs the back of his neck. “No. Sneaking into someone’s room isn’t typical in… any type of relationship. I just couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t’ve, but I—”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
He blinks, looking at me with surprise before saying, “I was worried I’d scare you. I ran the same risk tonight. Was hoping you’d recognize me during the auction, but I knew it was a long shot.”
“What if you had scared me?”
“Well, I did scare you, but thankfully you didn’t stay that way for long. So—”
“Erik. If I hadn’t wanted to go with you, would you still have taken me?”
He swallows, his lips pressed into a thin line. It’s all the answer I need.
“You would’ve,” I say softly.
“I couldn’t have watched you leave with another man, knowing he’d hurt you. Not again. It would’ve killed me, Raina.”
Can I blame him for that? I don’t think I can.
“Does that upset you?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.”
He nods slowly, thinking, and I realize I’m doing the same. I’m not the same little girl I was when he knew me, which means he’s not the same, either. Yet I know I can trust him—more than I can Father, and definitely more than Ivan. The way he looked at me made my skin crawl.
But am I being naive? Is this another cruel joke like the one Benjamin and Danny played on me yesterday? How am I supposed to know?
“What happens now?” I ask. Erik has given me some answers, but new questions are sprouting in my brain every second.
“We stay here until you adjust. I know this is a lot for you, and I don’t want to pull you away from all you’ve ever known too quickly. Then… well, I’m not sure. We’ll have to see how Charles reacts to your disappearance. Ivan, too. But for right now, I only want you focusing on the fact that you’re free. Starting tomorrow, we can try to get you more acclimated to… everything.”
Everything. There are so many things I’ve always wanted to do. Go to the movies and museums, travel, make friends. It’s always sounded so lovely in the books I’ve read, although…
Biting the inside of my cheek, I stare into my empty bowl. Is it safe? What about the murderers?
I almost ask Erik, but I don’t want to upset him again tonight. Besides, he promised to protect me. He wouldn’t take me anywhere that he couldn’t do that.
“I know this is all difficult for you,” Erik tells me, “and I want to make it as easy as possible. This is probably the worst time of the year to take you, and I’m sorry, I really am. I just… I couldn’t leave you there.”
It takes me a moment to realize what he means, and then my heart sinks. “I’ll miss Christmas.”
Shaking his head, Erik holds out his hand to me. “Come here. I have something to show you.”
Once I place my hand in his, he leads me through the house. Most of it is dark and empty, just as I imagined it almost all of my life. I’ve never thought of a house as hollow before, but that’s exactly how this one feels. It’s like someone carved out all the happiness and life and left it to rot.
The room Erik guides me into is only lit by dying flames in the fireplace and whatever moonlight has managed to filter through the thick clouds in the sky. It’s warm, though—the warmest part of the house—and Erik seems more relaxed now that we’re not in the kitchen. Before, I didn’t realize he was tense, but his shoulders have dropped an inch, and his steps are lighter.
“Stay here,” he tells me before he disappears into the darkness.
A moment later, there’s a quiet click , and the room fills with soft, warm light. A tall Christmas tree stands in the corner, twinkling and surrounded by presents. Candy canes hang from the branches, and my mouth waters at the sight.
There’s a couch and a few armchairs in here as well, all facing the fireplace, and a stack of books on the coffee table in the center. It all looks picturesque, almost too pretty to touch.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.
Erik rejoins me, his hands in his pockets. “We can spend Christmas together. I know it won’t be what you’re used to, but I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. Tomorrow and every day after.”
Every day after. My heart leaps at the possibility. “You want that?”
“It’s all I want, Raina.”
The urge to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him takes over me, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do, or how I’d even go about it if it was.
Instead, I stare at all the gifts piled under the tree. There are so many, and they’re each wrapped so beautifully. “Is someone else joining us for Christmas?”
He frowns. “No.”
“Then where did all the presents come from?”
“From me, Raina,” he says. “For you.”
“For me ?”
I stare at all the gifts, wrapped so prettily and piled so high. It doesn’t feel right, knowing they’re meant for me. My mind hasn’t even fully registered that Erik came back for me. Add this, and it’s all… dizzyingly overwhelming.
“You’ve gotten Christmas presents before, haven’t you?” he asks slowly.
“Not from Father or Lydia. They gave everyone else loads of presents for Christmas, but the only person who ever got me something was Marissa. But that’s all right. I was just happy that I got to spend Christmas morning with everyone.”
“So you’d sit there and watch your siblings open gifts all morning but never had any for yourself?” he asks, his tone flat. “Except the one from your sister?”
I nod. “It’s all right, though. Father drops almost all the rules on Christmas day. He’s nicer—not as angry. I’m allowed to eat as many cookies as I want, and he lets me stay out after dinner so I can watch a movie with them all before bed.”
“So he did lock you away at night,” Erik says softly.
“Father likes to not have to be reminded of me all the time. He lets me wander around the house during the day—Marissa would get upset if he didn’t—but after dinner, I’m supposed to stay in my room.”
Something dark passes over Erik’s expression, and my chest tightens at the possibility of him getting angry again. But he closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they only hold a soft sympathy for me.
“No more, all right? You’re free now.”
“So I can do whatever I want?” I whisper.
He nods, his smile sad, and I wonder if he thought of me as often as I thought of him. If he had an idea of how bad things were for me. Did it haunt him? Did I haunt him?
“Will you show me the rest of the house?” I ask. It’s different in here, warm and welcoming, but the Christmas tree makes my heart ache for a reason I can’t explain.
“Of course.”
Erik leads me through the first floor. Whatever furniture that’s left is covered in sheets, and the wooden floorboards creak under our weight. It’s as if they have a story to tell, one that’s been hidden in these walls for far too long.
As we move upstairs, the steps sigh from our footsteps. Something happened here, they groan. Whatever it is, it was dark, and the very structure of the house absorbed it.
“What was done to you?” I whisper, my fingers tracing the old burgundy wallpaper.
How long has the house sat in isolation? Filled with nothing but stale air, a cold and empty hearth, and decaying memories.
“Raina?” Erik is at the top of the stairs. A window arches up behind him, a blur of snow and rain blowing outside from the howling wind.
Until him.
Did the house breathe a sigh of relief when he first came back? Was it ready to be revived? Loved again?
“Raina.”
I blink, realizing I’m only halfway up the steps. “Oh!”
“Did you say something?” he asks.
“Oh, um… It was nothing.” I join him on the landing. “Just thinking out loud.”
He nods, and I realize his stiffness has returned. As we near the first room, he swallows audibly. His fingers graze the doorknob, but he doesn’t turn it. “This was my parents’ room.”
My hand covers his, tugging him away. “Maybe we don’t go in there.”
“Yeah.” His voice is rough, and he clears his throat. “This way.”
We pass by another room with a closed door—his childhood bedroom, he tells me. There’s a main bathroom, and then he points to the room he’s staying in, and then mine. They’re right next to each other, I realize with relief. He won’t be far.
In my room, there’s a large bed and a dresser on one wall, and a bookshelf and an armchair in the corner near one of the windows. That’s where I’m drawn to immediately, taking in the titles of the books.
“I’m in the middle of this series,” I say, pulling out the third book. “How’d you know that?” It’s not the type of book Father would ever let me read, so I don’t keep them out in the open where he can see.
“Well, for starters, hiding books behind the pillows on your window seat isn’t the best strategy.” He smiles, some of the tension bleeding from his expression as he crosses the room to join me. “I wanted to get you books you’d enjoy, and when I saw a bookmark halfway through that one, I thought it was a good place to start.”
“Oh.” I hug the volume to my chest, gratitude winding through me. If it wasn’t for one particularly kind maid who snuck books in and out for me, I wouldn’t even know the series exists. Seeing the same kindness in Erik feels like a sign—a good one. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do, Raina,” he says, the roughness returning to his voice. “After leaving you there for so long…”
“No.” I place my fingertips over his lips, unsure how else to quiet him. “I’m just grateful that you came for me at all. Thank you. I never thought I’d get to leave, Erik. I owe you everything. I—” My words die on my tongue when his face falls. “What?”
He shakes his head. “You owe me nothing. Nothing, Raina. All of this…” He gestures around the room. “This is what you deserve. A place where you’re safe. Cherished. It’s the bare minimum.”
“But—”
“No. No buts. I don’t want you to feel like you have to find some way to pay me back. All I care about is your happiness.”
Happiness. I’m not sure if that’s something I’ve ever truly felt. Sure, there were fleeting moments of it in my childhood, but I was always surrounded by reminders of my harsh reality.
But that could change now. Everything could change now.
The room feels like it’s spinning. No one has ever done anything like this for me. It feels wrong. Misplaced. Like all of this thoughtfulness and care and effort should be pointed at someone else.
I find myself sitting on the bed, not entirely sure how I got here. Something bumps into my thigh, and I realize it’s a gift box, wrapped up in golden ribbon. I untie it and lift the lid, revealing an assortment of candy canes, chocolate, and gummies.
My stash. This is what’s currently in the box I hide in the back of one of my drawers. Erik must’ve found it.
“You went through my room,” I say. “All… all of it.”
“I did.”
“Is that normal?”
“No.”
“But you did it anyway.”
He nods. “I wanted to create a space you’d be comfortable in.”
“Comfortable,” I mumble.
“So if you don’t like anything in here, we can change it. Same with any of your clothes. I got ones that were similar to the ones you had, but if you want something else, just say the word.”
I don’t react, staring at the box. It’s overflowing with candy, but the sight of it doesn’t bring me joy. For my entire life, I’ve found safety in hiding—and in hiding my things. It’s exhausting, an ever-present anxiety that’s always simmering. And now my secrets have been uncovered, almost flaunted, in front of me.
Erik grimaces. “I crossed a line, didn’t I?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Fear creeps up my throat in a similar way to when I get in trouble. But Erik found my books and my stash of candies, and he doesn’t seem upset. Instead, he bought me more. And, I realize, I think he’ll get me all the books and sweets I ask for.
But still.
“Will you always be going through my things?”
“What? No. Fu—shi—god.” He rubs at his face. “No, Raina. It was a one-time thing. I just needed to get to know what you liked so I could try to build you a room here. I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve done it in the first place. And I swear on my life, I won’t do it again.”
As my grip tightens on the box, I try to piece everything together in my mind. Do I believe him? He never lied to me when we were younger—at least, not that I know of. But he went through everything. Everything.
“Did you read my journal?” I ask.
“No. Even if I’d found it, I wouldn’t have. I know I invaded your privacy, but that’s further than I’d ever take it, I promise.”
Invaded your privacy. That’s exactly how I feel, although I didn’t think to put those words to it.
“I want to believe you.” I pick up a candy cane, twirling it and watching the stripes spin. “But I…”
“What?”
“I don’t want to have to hide anymore,” I whisper, and when I look up at him, my vision is blurry with tears. “I’m so tired of hiding, Erik. But…”
I need to be able to.
There’s no way I can voice that thought. It’s too much, too vulnerable after feeling like I’ve been stripped bare.
Erik is in front of me in an instant, his knees hitting the blue rug he must’ve laid out by himself. “I know, Raina. I know, and I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, I would.”
The sincerity in his eyes tugs at my heartstrings. I meant what I said—I want to believe him. But what if that’s a mistake?
“How about this,” he says. “From now on, I won’t come into your room unless you tell me that I can.”
“You’d do that?”
He nods. “We can even put a lock on the door, and I’ll make sure you have the only key. Not to lock you in—I’d never do that—but so you can ensure that I’m not going behind your back.”
“I don’t need a lock,” I say softly. I want to trust him. Deep down, I do trust him.
“All right. Well, the other part stands. I won’t step foot inside your room unless I have your explicit permission.”
“Thank you. Would it… be all right if I went to bed now?” I know Erik said I can do whatever I want, but it feels strange to not ask for his permission. “It’s just that it’s getting late, and this evening has been so exhausting.”
“If that’s what you want, then of course.” He gets to his feet. “Is there anything else you need from me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, then you know where to find me.”
As he turns to go, panic wraps a cold hand around my throat, and I grab onto his arm. There are so many unknowns. Too many.
“Erik?”
He pivots back so he’s facing me. “Yes?”
“The other men at the auction,” I say slowly. “They wanted to…”
His expression darkens, so I don’t continue that thought.
“But you didn’t bid on me,” I say instead.
“Correct.”
“But you took me anyway. Are you…” I swallow down my fear even though I think I know the answer. “Are you going to do what they would’ve done to me?”
He reaches up to touch my cheek before faltering halfway. “Do you think I will?”
“I…”
I’m not sure how to continue, so I press my lips together. Ivan scared me, and the thought of ending up with a sadist made me want to cry. But this is Erik. I’ve loved him since I was a little girl. Wanted him.
It’d be different with you.
But should I say that? Does he want that—me? I don’t know how any of this is supposed to work.
“I will never hurt you, Raina. Your body, your heart… those are yours to do with as you please.” His hand twitches at his side before he shoves it into his pocket. “I’ll never force you to do something you don’t want to.”
“Thank you.”
He looks pained for a moment before stepping away. His eyes have barely left me since we left Father’s mansion, and now, it looks like he’s having trouble saying goodnight.
Would he think I was odd if I asked him to spend the night in here? Invasion of privacy aside, I’ve missed him. Watching him leave, even though he’ll be right next door, feels much worse than I thought it would.
But Erik moves toward the door, gripping it tight as he pauses at the threshold. “Goodnight, Raina. If you need anything— anything —please come get me.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
Erik leaves, shutting the door behind him, and I’m left with a sense of loss. For what could’ve been, maybe? He feels so much more distant than when he broke into my bedroom. Is it because he scared me? Because he upset me by looking through my things?
Before I’ve even realized it, I’ve crossed the room to go after him. Only when my hand curls around the doorknob do I stop myself.
Can’t leave.
I try to turn the handle—I really do—but I’m frozen. Memories flood my mind of all the times I disobeyed Father. The lectures, the fear, the pain. I know Erik won’t hurt me, but… what if he does? What if whatever is waiting for me on the other side of this door is only more pain and misery?
One cage to another.
No. No, it’s not true. Erik wouldn’t.
But the only way I can get the tightness in my chest to ease is by backing away from the door. The relief is immediate, but it’s fleeting. Because in the next moment, I realize the truth.
I’m still trapped. Not inside a mansion this time. No, this is something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to escape.
My own mind.