Chapter 13
AURORA
We’re back in the ballroom, lingering near the edge.
Raiden wraps his arm around my waist, but he seems detached and cold.
At dinner, I made a point of reminding him what this is, and since then, he has been annoyed.
Oh, he touches me, holds my hand. We dance together.
But he hasn’t said much, grunting the minimum number of words.
We’ve mingled with a few people, and then he lights up.
I do the same. Playing my role. Wearing my mask.
It’s not as if I can resent it. This was the agreement.
“Soon, we can return to the room,” he says against my ear. It’s so he can be heard over the music, obviously, but that doesn’t stop his warm breath from making me tingle in unspeakable places.
“Okay.”
“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts.
He’s being petty, I’m sure of it. “Fine.”
“It’s not like we’re going to sleep in the same bed; you’ve made that clear.”
“I just said it’s fine, didn’t I?”
A man approaches us, almost as tall as Raiden, with silver hair, wearing a jet-black mask and what appear to be red contact lenses, unless he has some sort of condition.
“Always the same mask, Raiden,” he says.
“Victor,” Raiden replies stiffly.
“You don’t sound at all happy to see me.”
“Aurora, this is Victor: a man who once tried to steal the Blackwell fortune from my father. When he failed, he fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness, so my grandmother misguidedly allowed him back into the fold.”
“That’s a rather pessimistic explanation,” Victor says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aurora.”
“Uh, nice to meet you,” I mumble.
Victor claps Raiden on the shoulder. I feel Raiden go stiff through his arm around my waist, his body going tight.
“You smell like you’ve been drinking, Victor,” Raiden says. “You’ve made your introduction and said hello. It’s time to leave.”
“Are you having fun lingering at the edge of the party like a ghost, Raiden?”
“Remove your hand.”
Victor drops his gloved hand to his side, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave. He looks from Raiden to me and back again, fidgeting nervously. “I would love it if you could swallow that fucking pride of yours and act like a grownup, at least for the weekend.”
Raiden steps forward, practically vibrating. I quickly grab his sleeve and pull him away.
“Just leave it,” I plead. “He’s not worth it.”
“Yeah, listen to your dog.” Victor laughs cruelly.
There’s no stopping Raiden. He grips Victor by his shirtfront and then spins, slamming him against the wall. “Make one more comment about my woman,” he barks. “Go on, Victor, I dare you. Do it. I want you to do it. Let’s see what happens.”
Victor claws at his hands, wheezing. “Please.”
“Say one more thing about my woman,” Raiden snarls, so loudly that several people turn to watch.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you should apologize to.”
“Aurora…” He turns his red eyes to me. “Please accept my apologies. I’ve had too much to drink.”
“It’s okay.” I touch Raiden’s back, feeling his tense muscles through his jacket. “Raiden, let him go.”
Raiden shoves Victor one last time and takes a step back. “Get away from me.”
Once Victor has hurried away, Raiden grabs me by the waist and pulls me toward him for a kiss. Our lips clash in a collision of pure fire, pleasure whispering through my body.
“It makes all of this more convincing,” he whispers in my ear after the kiss.
My heart drops at his words.
It’s exactly what I said to him at dinner when we were sharing about our parents, about faking, about our inner pain.
“Let’s head back to the room. People have seen me defend you. Word will get around. Now they’ll assume our patience has run out and we’re going back to the room to tear chunks out of each other.”
“You phrase it so romantically,” I mutter sarcastically.
He chuckles gruffly and puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me through the Gothic mansion. When the storm makes the building tremble, I try not to let my fear show.
Back in the room, Raiden closes the door, then leans against the wall, hands in his pockets, mask still on as he watches me. I keep mine on too. It’s like a shield at this point.
Thunder rumbles, and I flinch again.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t like storms.”
“You don’t have to make fun of me.”
“I’m not making goddamn fun of you,” he growls.
“It sounded like you were about to start.”
“No,” he says with a tired sigh. “I wasn’t, and I wouldn’t. You’ve got every reason to be frightened of them.”
“Oh, I understand it,” I tell him. “I lost my parents when the weather was like this. I was sitting at the front window, waiting for them to pick me up from Grandma’s house. Back then, I liked storms. They made me feel cozy.”
“But understanding it and overcoming it are two different things,” he says.
“Exactly.”
He gestures to the TV. “We’ll put on Misery. Distract us from the storm.”
The thunder crashes even louder, and a gust of wind blows so hard the bones of the mansion tremble.
“Are you keeping your mask on?” I ask.
“Yeah. Easier to play the role. You’re my scared girlfriend, and I’m a comforting boyfriend.”
And it will remind us at all times that we are playing roles. When I agreed to this, I didn’t expect to become conflicted so fast. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I’m falling in love with him or anything melodramatic like that.
I like his company, though, even when he’s being grumpy, and that’s a problem.
He switches on the smart TV and finds Misery, purchasing it in HD. I sit on the other end of the couch from him, my legs folded beneath me, doing my best not to shudder each time thunder cracks or the wind howls.
“Don’t be proud, Aurora,” he says. “Come here.” He opens his arms.
“Is that an order… sir?”
He smirks. “You’d find it easier if it were an order.” When I don’t say anything, he grunts, “Yes, it’s an order. Get over here. Now.”
A shiver courses through me, teasing up my spine, a seductive energy moving through my body. All part of the game, I whisper inside as I crawl into his arms.
He cuddles me close as the storm grows louder, stroking his hand through my hair.
I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a thousand times better than sitting alone.
“This scene always gets me,” Raiden says as Annie forces Paul to burn his manuscript. “All that hard work gone up in flames. All that struggle. All that pain. For nothing.”
“Does it hit close to home?” I murmur, my eyes growing heavy.
“I worked and bled in the Marines to earn the money to start my business. Some people, pricks who were just given everything, don’t understand that. They don’t understand the weight of betrayal.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, moving even closer to him, feeling protected even if I’ve always claimed, to myself, to my friends, to Grandma, that I don’t need a protector.
“You don’t have to stay awake, Aurora,” he says with surprising softness.
I do my best, but the crazier the storm outside becomes, the warmer his embrace feels. I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and somehow, forget none of this is real.