4. Aurelia
Chapter 4
Aurelia
W hatever I imagined being held captive would be like, it was not this:
Being led on a Goddess-forsaken leash by a cruel and silent Xander through the hallowed halls of his monstrosity of a home.
The prodding, the poking, even the drawing of blood I could suffer through. Expected it, really. A part of me may have hoped that this is some kind of protection, something that Xander could only have thought of to keep me away from whatever horrors my father has planned for me. Except…it had been his father who had brought out the chain and collar, and Xander had blinked at it for a moment, as if stunned. He’d recovered quickly, of course, and the revelation that this is a private custom performed by dragons for centuries leaves a stone in the pit of my stomach.
Whatever could be said of serpent court, they’d never done anything like this. There are no more prideful, arrogant creatures than dragons.
As if this entire thing isn’t already embarrassing enough without the collar and chain.
Xander says nothing as I follow him up a set of grand, carpeted stairs, the glistening golden chain slack between my neck and his hand as I hurry after his long stride.
What does one say to the mate who rejected her so brutally? I’d asked for his help in my plan to surrender only because any obstruction from him would have stopped the entire operation. Xander might be powerful, but I also knew he’d wanted me gone from his life. That was the reason that allowed me to ask him to do this. The end result was me out of his life.
But…this result is the exact opposite.
The backs of my eyes burn and I stumble over my bare feet once again, catching myself just in time. I wrap my arms around my middle as if I can hold myself together.
Because I will hold myself together if it’s the last fucking thing I do on this earth.
There are clues here, I must remember, both in this majestic place and the people who occupy it. Clues to fuel my revenge. Weapons I might be able to use against these creatures.
As we walk up the stairs, people appear from the shadows as if they’ve been waiting. Humans, by the smell of them, smartly dressed in formal black and white maid and butler attire. Two of them, a middle-aged man and woman, wait at the top of the stairs, bowing and curtseying deeply as we come to stand before them.
They both avert their eyes to the richly carpeted crimson floor.
“My Lord Xander,” the man says. “It is a great pleasure to see you once again. And a greater pleasure still, to be your manservant.”
“The pleasure is mine, Olly,” Xander murmurs. Does he sound pensive? Is that a note of apprehension in his voice, or is that just my soul-weary, fatigued state?
“Your old rooms are freshened up and ready with all the comforts.”
Olly introduces the maid, a brunette by the name of Heather, and they all ignore my irrelevant Boneweaver ass.
I can’t believe Xander has both a manservant and a maid. But, of course he does. His giant egoic lord dragon ass wouldn’t be complete without a set of humans waiting on him claw and tail.
They lead us down a long corridor and up yet another set of stairs. The vaulted ceiling soars high above us, the other levels wrapping around the walls mezzanine style like ribbons around a gift box. Gold glints at every opportunity. Ancient stone dragon heads sit on pillars and some in glass cases. Gems are inlaid on name plaques, portraits are ornately framed, and my bare feet trod upon plush crimson runners.
I’m barely able to keep my eyes open as we reach Xander’s rooms and he has to tug at my chain to get me through his receiving room and into a large space occupied with a king bed on one side, a bathroom on the other and?—
A muttered curse leaves my lips.
Because they’ve prepared for me.
Against the eastern wall of his room sits a square cast iron cage. The bars are thick and black, twined with gold because, of course, they couldn’t help it. It’s big enough to allow a person to lie down, but short enough that I would have to kneel in it. On the floor lies a folded pink blanket and two ceramic… dog bowls. One with water, the other with something that looks like kibble.
Next to that is a puppy pee pad.
By the Wild Mother. I gape at the thing as Heather removes a black key from her starched apron pocket and hands it to Xander.
“We won’t need the training pads,” Xander says with abject disgust. “I won’t have it urinating on the floor.”
“Apologies, my lord,” Heather says quickly. “None of us were sure what condition she would be in.”
Did they think I’d arrive crawling on all fours, yowling and barking? Bunch of nutters.
“I’m not going in there,” I say, crinkling my nose.
With the slow, fluid movement that could only be made by a predator, Xander turns around. Cruelty and anger drapes around his shoulders like a coat. Wisely, Heather and Olly flee the room, quiet as mice, shutting the door behind them with a definitive click.
So well trained.
So well aware of the danger of dragons.
I cross my arms and stare those glowing eyes down. “You’re taking credit for my surrender and I don’t appreciate it.”
“Use the bathroom,” Xander sneers. “You need it.”
With a flick of his wrist, the golden chain snaps free of my collar, making me stumble forward. My hand flies towards the collar as the chain disappears into the gold bangle on Xander’s hand. He takes out a set of metal keys and unlocks the shackles around my wrists with brusque efficiency, removing them and stepping away.
I’m as free as I can be.
But I don’t move towards the bathroom. I narrow my eyes at him. “I am here of my own accord.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, and that means you’ve signed your life away. You are subject to the rules here. Comply, or face the consequences.”
I shake my head, my heart a tight fist, my throat threatening to shut entirely. But I push through it. “You?—”
Xander whirls around and grabs me by the throat, shoving me right against the wall. “You will haunt me no longer,” he hisses into my face. The fire in his gaze might burn me alive. “You don’t get to live in my head anymore. You don’t get to control me. I am free of you. Forever.”
Shock slams into me harder than a slap. I had no idea I affected him that badly. That I…lived in his head, unwanted.
“I never controlled you,” I choke out.
He lets me go with a snarl, striding away without another glance. I all but sag against the wall. Without another word, I hurry into the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me, pressing myself against the wood, breathing hard and squeezing my eyes shut against the pain of it all.
Taking a shaky breath, my bladder suddenly makes herself known. I blink open my eyes and rush to the toilet, planting myself on it like it’ll save me.
Warm, golden bulbs highlight the most stunning bathroom I’ve ever been in, and despite everything, I gape at the finery of the claw-footed bathtub, the fancy black marble floor tiles, and the golden dragon head spout at the sink and shower. It’s like our Animus Academy bathroom, but on steroids.
A sharp pang of homesickness strikes me without warning and I double over, putting my head between my legs and regulating my breathing like Henry would guide me to do. Minnie, Raquel, Stacey and Connor. Will they ever forgive me for this? Will my mates ever forgive me? Will they be able to look at me again after I regina-ordered them to stay put?
I fear the answer. I fear their wrath.
But there’s nothing to be done about it, except to get off the damned pretty toilet, head over to the sink, splash icy water on my face, and steel myself for what is to come. I made the decision to be here and I will own that.
The gold collar is pretty if I look at it with a certain squint. Sabrina would have turned it into a fashion statement. Surely I can do the same.
My teeth grind themselves as I get the urge to punch the mirror into a thousand pieces. The fucking audacity. The fucking nerve of these people.
Xander might no longer see the mating mark on my neck, but he’s branded himself onto me. Clutching the sides of the sink, it takes me long moments to calm myself.
When I emerge back into the bedroom, Xander is sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, a joint between his fingers in one hand and his phone in the other.
My cage door is now open. Without looking at me, Xander says in a low voice. “Get in.”
I am here to play the game, so play I will. Biting my tongue, I stroll towards the cage. I have to drop to my hands and knees and crawl in and pull my gown in behind me. But once I’m sitting in there, I pull the blanket into my lap, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to sleep.
Xander rises and stalks towards the cage, swings the door shut, and locks it.
I have to clench my teeth at this feeling of utter vulnerability. I had fought the bonds of a cage for so damn long, only to crawl into one voluntarily.
It feels like absolute shite.
“The suite door is dragon-locked,” he announces. “Don’t bother trying to escape.”
“Here by my own choice, remember?” I grumble, unfolding my new blanket and sniffing it.
Xander doesn’t reply, he just flicks the black out cover shut.
I’m left in complete darkness, my only companion the sound of Xander shutting the bathroom door.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I lie down, drawing my knees up because the length of me isn’t going to fit in this thing. I’m proud to say it’s only a single tear that slips out.