Chapter 6 Aurora
SIX
AURORA
For the life of her, Aurora couldn’t figure out where she was.
Okay. She was in a room with a desk. She knew that much.
But why didn’t this room have any windows?
She screamed, the sound deafening to her own ears, even though she had no physical ears. No vocal cords. No body.
Was the sound of her scream all in her mind? No, she didn’t have a mind either. No neurons firing. Aurora was a spirit. A ghost. And no one responded to her cries of rage.
Without a body, Aurora couldn’t open the door to the room, the desk drawers, or the cabinets lining the wall.
If she held her hands in front of her face, she saw a pale outline of her former self, but she had no physical presence.
She could feel the desk when she placed her hand against it, the wood preventing her from passing through, but that was all.
Apparently, she existed enough to be confined, but not enough to have any impact on the world around her. And she had no way of knowing if anyone could hear her cries for help.
Despair clawed at her.
She had to retrieve her body. How had she escaped the Thornfield compound and ended up trapped in this damned room? It made no sense.
Aurora called on her magic but found nothing within. She shook, an icy sensation enveloping her every time she tried.
She should have access to her magic. Why didn’t she?
Damnation, she’d fucked this up, even if she wasn’t dead.
Her body was still alive—suspended by her spell and waiting for her return—otherwise she’d be in the Realm of the Damned.
But even if she was still in the Human Realm, she’d been separated from her body for too long.
Her lifeless form would have been found, and she didn’t know what her family would do with her.