Chapter 11 Aurora
AURORA
Our driver slows as we pass through the gates and roll through the driveway.
My pulse spikes at the sight of the mansion looming ahead.
A punishment waits for me the moment we step inside his home. I can tell by the way Everett grips my wrist. His hand has been a shackle on me since we left the altar.
Shamefully, I don’t hate his touch as much as I should. On the drive and even now, I’ve been stealing glances at where his fingers wrap around my wrist.
The rings he slipped on me have stolen just as much of my focus. Two extra shackles that bind me to him.
Anyone else might feel special wearing them. They’d admire their partner’s thoughtfulness, marvel at the beauty and the cost.
But I know better than to mistake this for love.
The rings. His grip. This whole ceremony.
They’re not gifts. They’re threats, delivered one after the other.
Aurora is off-limits.
His words ring in my ears. The ones he spat at my father.
Everett was fearless. A beast protecting what was his, even if what’s his is something he hates.
He made me feel safe. Safer, to be exact.
Next to him, my adoptive parents could never hurt me.
And as much as Everett would like to believe that he’s the worst monster in my life, he isn’t.
Back home, despair followed me around no matter where I went.
Here, there’s desire.
No hope, there’s none of that here either. Yet I’d still choose this prison over the other one any day of the week. The lesser of two evils.
Maybe one day, freedom will be within reach.
Maybe.
As if sensing my thoughts, Everett clamps his hand harder around my wrist.
I gulp and shake my head, then look out the window.
Night had started to fall while my fate was being sealed to another man’s. The recessed lawn lights barely reach the car’s interior.
Soon enough, the car will idle. Real dread will flood in.
The front door is right there, up ahead. It’s already open. One of the staff members is waiting for us at the doorway.
You’re going to regret the moment you were born, wife.
Fueled by adrenaline, I told him he could try me.
Adrenaline surges through my veins, sharpening every sense. Both fear and bravery cling to every pore of my body.
Everett brushes his thumb along the inside of my wrist, a poor attempt to fool me.
I won’t let my guard down, only to be crushed behind closed doors later.
What I should expect is torture. Pain. Punishment.
He might fuck me to my literal death.
Maybe that’s what happened to her.
My heart beats faster at that.
Her. The one who might’ve been here before me.
The one he might’ve killed. Maybe he was too rough and accidentally ended her life…
Oh God.
Oh my fucking God.
I swallow down the bile rising in my throat.
“We’re here, sir.”
The driver’s announcement snaps me out of my debilitating thoughts.
Fight or flight, Aurora. What will it be?
A mixture of both, I guess.
But I’ll start with fight.
As soon as the engine stills, I reach for the remote in Everett’s pants pocket.
If shoplifting taught me anything, it’s how to be quick and efficient with my hands.
I know, I know. Shoplifting and pickpocketing aren’t the same thing. But good sleight of hand is crucial when your menacing bodyguard watches you like a fucking hawk.
My fingers curl around Everett’s plastic remote and—yes. I have it in my grip.
Before I can snatch it away, his hand locks over mine, almost hard enough to break my bones.
Except I know it’s not my broken bones he’s after. It’s something far worse.
His plans for tonight are clear in his wicked gaze. Darkness and lust blend in him, making it hard to speak. To breathe.
“Don’t. Don’t push my finger. Don’t you make me press that button and zap myself.” My eyes are on Everett’s and I swallow hard. “Don’t do…it…to me while I’m out.”
My fingers clamp tighter around the remote that’s still in his pocket, careful not to hit the damn button. I tell myself my pounding heart has nothing to do with the solid muscle of his thigh beneath my hand.
“Little thief.” His low voice is gravelly. Bone-chilling. It alerts me just to how much danger I’m in, and I hate how it turns me on. “Let go.”
“Never.” As forcefully and quickly as possible, I snap my hand back, holding the remote out of his reach.
“Hand it over.” He could lean forward and pluck it out of my grasp, but it’s obvious that he’d rather I submit. “Or there’ll be consequences.”
“Hmm.” Talking back always landed me harsher punishments. But I’m not going down without a fight. “Since there’ll be consequences no matter what I do, my answer is going to be…no.”
His lips quirk in a small, awful smirk.
Heat pools between my thighs. My own body turns on me, reacting to him even as my mind screams in protest.
He’s going to use my arousal against me.
No.
No.
“Don’t come anywhere near me!” I use the remote as a weapon, landing a blow on his shoulder.
Wide eyes betray his shock, giving me another second to do this. Bam. Bam. Bam. I slam the remote down on his hand, the one that’s locked around my wrist.
The swift blows work their magic. His fingers open.
I’m freed.
Momentarily.
A moment is all I need, anyway.
I slide out of the car, sprinting toward the front door.
“Aurora!” Dress shoes pound on asphalt behind me.
I need to lock myself up in a room. Any room.
A few hours on my own. A night. It could be what saves me from the worst of Everett.
Once his anger settles, once our back and forth from the ceremony isn’t as vivid in his head, I might have a chance of surviving this. Him.
He’ll still fuck me, no doubt about that.
He’ll still take from me.
But maybe it won’t hurt as much.
Maybe I won’t pass out from being pounded by a savage.
What was I thinking? Challenging him?
Idiot.
Nothing to do about it now but run.
The late-night breeze whips at my hair. My heels click on the driveway the faster I run.
I lift the skirt of my dress with my free hand. The damn thing still swishes against the floor.
The woman from his staff steps aside as I rush up the stairs. Her face is blank, unreadable. “Mrs. Alder.”
My new name. I yelp at the sound of it.
Then sprint as if my life depends on it.
Everett’s on my heels. I hear the loud thump of his footfalls. The fire he breathes.
Other than that, he’s silent.
Somehow, that’s worse than hearing him threaten me.
Faster. Faster.
The stairwell, I’m there, rushing up to the second floor. Taking the stairs two at a time.
The room he locked me in yesterday is as good as any to hide from Everett. The heavy armchairs, I’ll drag them to the door. I’ll barricade myself inside the room.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
“Aurora, stop where you are,” he commands. The authority in his voice raises the hair along the back of my neck. “Now.”
As much as I’m attracted to him, I won’t stop for anything.
Newfound determination surges through me. The burning in my lungs pushes me forward instead of slowing me down.
“You’re going to regret this.” As I reach the landing, Everett’s fingers brush against a lock of my hair.
A scream fills my ears. It’s mine, loud and terrified, as I dash forward at breakneck speed.
Heart, stay with me. We’ll rest once we’re safe.
There, there. I’m inside the room, spinning to shove the door closed.
After closing the door, I reach for the closest armchair. Drag it like I planned, so it’s pressed against the door.
I angle it, and—perfect. The door handle is secure.
“Go.” I adjust the armchair when Everett starts shaking the handle. “Away.”
“Wife.” His deceptively alluring tone rattles me to my core.
“Forced!” I scream, pushing the entire weight of my body against the door. “You forced me to marry you.”
“You’re my wife, nonetheless.” His fist slams on the heavy wood, and I shriek. “Open the fuck up.”
“Tomorrow.” I gulp in air, begging my heart to settle. “Go to bed, Everett.”
“You’re forgetting your place.” The second pound on the door is awful. It’s not a threat anymore. It’s a vow. “If you don’t open up within the next ten seconds, I’ll set this room on fire. Hell, I’ll set this whole place on fire with you in it.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“You’d make a beautiful corpse.” This part, it sounds like he’s lying.
Like he’s saying it to scare me. Like he’s doing it to turn me on.
“I won’t call 9-1-1. I’ll let this whole place burn to the ground, then fuck my fist and come all over your remains.” He’s coming at me with everything he’s got, but for all his bravado, it sounds like an empty threat. “You’d be a mess of charred bones and cum.”
“You’re disgusting.” I shiver. I heat up despite the horrible images Everett plants in my head.
Hating myself and him, I take the butt plug out—ouch—and move back, then throw it against the door.
“And you’re a brat.” Through the barrier between us, I hear him sucking in a sharp breath. I imagine his large shoulders tensing. His jaw ticking. “Five. Four.”
My thong was soaked when I pulled out the butt plug. Shamefully, I wipe my wet, quivering hand over my dress.
“Three.”
No, no. I won’t let him in here. He’s in the worst mood.
My first time won’t be like this. With a man who hates me.
“Two.”
Tears brim in my eyes. Streak across my cheeks.
He’ll get in if he wants to, the man who’s more of a monster.
“No.” I stand here, shuddering and turned on. “No.”
“One.”
Deflated, I shove the chair aside, the scrape of wood on wood loud in the silence.
A moment later, Everett presses the handle down and pushes the door in.
Watching a rabid lion waiting in the doorway would’ve been a lot less scary than this. My heart lurches up to my throat.
My face goes completely numb.
I was right. His jaw does tic.
His lips are white, pressed together so tightly.
His tux jacket is gone. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up, exposing strong forearms. Vivid tattoos.
Furious, pumping veins.
“I opened the door.” This last Hail Mary is me trying to talk sense into him.
“The first time I asked?”
“N-no.” A step back makes no difference.