Chapter 2 Aurora
AURORA
My head throbs with each heartbeat, a pulsing pain that drags me from unconsciousness. I try to open my eyes, but they feel glued shut, heavy, and unresponsive. Something’s wrong. My thoughts swim through molasses, disconnected and slippery.
Cold seeps through my dress into my skin. Not the smooth coolness of silk sheets, but a harsh, unyielding chill. Concrete. I’m lying on concrete.
I force my eyes open, blinking against the dim light. Gray walls surround me. A concrete cell, maybe twelve feet square. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling, casting sickly yellow light that hurts my eyes.
“Liv?” My voice comes out as a croak.
She’s next to me on the floor, still wearing her gown from the masquerade. Her chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, but she doesn’t stir. The sequins on her dress catch the light, incongruously beautiful in this grim place.
My fingers tremble as I reach for her shoulder. “Olivia, wake up.”
Nothing.
I push myself to a sitting position, fighting a wave of nausea. My head spins, and I press my palm against the floor to stay upright. What happened? Where are we?
The masquerade. Bits and pieces flash through my mind. Hunter’s warning. The necklace.
Olivia’s face twisted with hurt and betrayal when I told her about Hunter and me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though she can’t hear me. “I’m so sorry.”
Then I remember the rest—Ari stumbling toward us, his warning. Men in server uniforms had surrounded us. The sharp prick of a needle. Hunter’s necklace fell from my throat as consciousness slipped away.
My breathing accelerates as panic claws up my chest. I scan the cell—solid door with a small window, no other openings, no furniture, nothing but concrete and the two of us in our evening gowns.
“Help!” I call, my voice breaking. “Someone help us!”
Only silence answers. I crawl to Olivia, checking her pulse. Still steady. Whatever they injected us with must be keeping her under longer.
Who took us? Why? The answer whispers through my mind: Jax. Hunter warned me about him, but I never understood the danger until now.
I drag myself up from the floor, legs wobbling. My evening gown feels like a cruel joke now, the fabric catching on the rough concrete as I move.
“Water pipes,” I murmur, following the industrial piping that runs along the ceiling. The pipes disappear into the wall, thick and old with patches of rust blooming like copper flowers.
I press my palm against the wall. It’s cold and damp. The moisture seeps through my skin, chilling me to the bone. This isn’t just a basement; we’re deep underground. The air has that distinctive density and stillness, like being buried alive.
A small drain sits in the corner of the floor; its metal grate rusted at the edges. I kneel to examine it, noting the slight slope of the concrete toward it. My stomach turns. The floor is designed to be hosed down.
In the far corner, a metal toilet is bolted to the floor, no seat or lid, just bare steel. Next to it, a small sink with a push-button faucet that releases water for precise five-second intervals when I test it. The entire setup is minimal comfort, maximum control.
My gaze drifts upward to a ventilation shaft near the ceiling, too small for even a child to fit through, covered with a heavy metal grate secured by bolts that would require tools to remove.
The door is solid steel with a small viewing window at eye level. Through it, I glimpse a dimly lit corridor with similar doors lining the opposite wall. If the doors on the other side are anything to go by, the lock is electronic, with a keypad outside the cell.
Most disturbing of all are the two narrow cots bolted to the floor against opposite walls. They’re fitted with thin vinyl mattresses and secured blankets.
“This place...” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. “It wasn’t built for us. It was already here, waiting.”
I hear a soft groan and turn to see Olivia stirring, her mascara smudged beneath her eyes. Relief floods through me despite our dire situation.
“Liv, thank god. Are you okay?”
She blinks slowly, confusion clouding her features. “Aurora? Where...” Her voice trails off as she takes in our surroundings, awareness dawning in her eyes like a terrible sunrise.
“No, no, no.” Olivia scrambles to a sitting position, her designer gown pooling around her. “Where are we? What is this place?”
“I don’t know,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re somewhere underground. I think we were drugged at the masquerade.”
Olivia’s breathing accelerates, coming in short and shallow gasps. She jumps to her feet, stumbling slightly as the drugs linger in her system.
“We have to get out!” She rushes to the door, pulling frantically at the handle that doesn’t budge. “Help! Someone help us!” Her fists pound against the metal, each impact echoing through our cell.
“Liv, calm down—”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” She whirls toward me. “We’ve been kidnapped! We’re going to die in here!”
“We’re not going to die,” I say firmly, though I’m far from certain.
Olivia paces the perimeter, touching the walls like she might find a hidden exit. Her hands shake violently. “This is because of Hunter, isn’t it? Because of what you told me?”
I swallow hard. “I think it’s something bigger than that. Something to do with Jax King.”
“Who?” Her voice rises an octave. “Aurora, what have you gotten us into?”
“I don’t know exactly,” I admit. “Hunter tried to warn me, but I didn’t understand.”
Olivia slides down the wall, her legs giving out. She hugs her knees to her chest, rocking slightly. “I can’t be here. I can’t do this.” Her breathing verges on hyperventilation. “I can’t breathe. I can’t—”
I move to Olivia’s side and place my hands on her shoulders. “Liv, look at me. Focus on my breathing.” I exaggerate my breaths, slow and deep. “In... out... in... out. That’s it.”
Gradually, her breathing steadies as she mirrors mine. The wild panic in her eyes subsides to something more controlled.
“We’re going to get through this,” I say, not knowing if it’s true but needing to believe it. “Hunter will find us.”
His name snaps something in her. Olivia’s gaze hardens. “Hunter.” She pulls away from my touch. “Right. Your Hunter.”
“Liv—”
“You love him.” It’s not a question. She remembers our conversation from the masquerade now, the one interrupted by our abduction.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Once her breathing normalizes completely, Olivia moves to the opposite cot, putting distance between us. “I want you to stay away from me.”
“We’re locked in a cell together,” I point out.
“Then stay on your side.” Her voice is flat, empty of the hysteria from moments ago. “I don’t care about Hunter, you know. I never did.”
“I know.”
Olivia stares at the wall. “But that’s not the point. You went behind my back, Aurora. My sister.”
“I tried to tell you—”
“After sneaking around!” Her hands clench into fists against her gown. “Did Ari know?”
I look up. “Ari?”
A bitter smile touches her lips. “Ironic. I’ve been seeing Ari. Not that you’d notice with your head so far up Hunter’s ass.”
The revelation stuns me. “You and Ari?”
“Yes. I liked him before Dad forced this engagement on me.”
“Wait, so let me get this straight,” I say, pushing myself off the cold floor. “You like Ari. You’re seeing Ari.”
Olivia doesn’t look at me; her gaze is fixed on some invisible point on the wall.
I throw my hands up. “Then you should be happy! If you like Ari, you’re free to be with him now. And I’m in love with Hunter, so what the hell is the problem?”
“The problem?” Olivia finally turns to me, her eyes flashing. “The problem isn’t who ends up with who, Aurora. It’s that my own sister went behind my back. It’s that you lied to my face about it. It’s that you couldn’t even give me the basic respect of telling me the truth.”
“I tried to tell you—”
“Too little, too late.” She cuts me off with a sharp gesture. “And doing it at the masquerade? Really? In public? That was your brilliant plan?”
I sink onto my cot. “I didn’t know how else to do it.”
“How about privately? How about weeks ago? How about before you started sleeping with my fiancé?” Her voice cracks slightly on the last word.
“You said you don’t even care about Hunter,” I point out.
Olivia crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re locked in a cell, possibly about to be killed, and you’re worried about justifying your affair.”
“Olivia—”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it right now.
” Her tone leaves no room for argument. She turns her back to me, shoulders rigid with tension.
I know Olivia well enough to know that she’s not going to talk to me right now, so I drop it.
Even so, as I gaze around our prison cell, I know she’ll have to get over it sooner or later if we are going to survive this together.