Chapter 6 – Aurora
Ijolt up in bed, a moan slipping past my lips, and my body still trembling from that dream.
Again?
They always feel so real.
I lift the blanket and see I’m naked except for my sleep top. My leggings and panties have been kicked to the floor.
And I’ve left a wet spot on the bed.
What the hell?
Did I undress myself while asleep? Did I make a mess because of that dream?
To be fair, I’ve never been tied up before, and my body really liked it.
Even if my mind tried to convince me it was wrong… That the vampire doesn’t deserve to stick his fingers or tongue or dick inside me.
I’m finding myself in some sick sex slave situation except he’s no longer locking my bedroom door. He’s never harmed me. And he’s treating me like I’m a queen—in his fucked-up little way.
Okay. This is getting out of hand. I’m still his captive, and I’m worried I have Stockholm syndrome now.
I get out of bed and use the restroom, then jump in the shower to wash away last night’s dream. Once I get dressed, I head into the kitchen to search for food.
Instead, I find Rorik sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper.
“What are you doing to me?” I growl, stomping into the living room to stand in front of him with my arms crossed.
He lowers the paper and tilts his head like a cute and curious puppy.
Except he’s neither.
Hot and dangerous is more like it.
“Whatever do you mean, Little Lamb?”
“Fuck off with the name, would you?”
He frowns. No… he pouts like a needy, bratty vamp.
I can’t fucking stand him.
“You’re glamouring me or doing something to make me dream about you! Make it stop.”
He gasps and places his palm over his heart, as if I’ve offended him.
“You think I’m capable of manipulating your dreams?”
I scoff. “Why else would I be dreaming about you?”
He shrugs. “Sounds like you’re a little obsessed with me.”
“Ugh!”
I turn on my heel, stomp back into my bedroom, and slam the door shut.
I fall onto the bed face first and scream into a pillow. After at least ten minutes, I get up because I’m acting like a child and not a forty-three-year-old woman, but I can’t help it. The vampire is driving me insane!
My stomach growls, reminding me that I’ve yet to eat today. When I emerge from the room, Rorik’s gone. In the kitchen, coffee is in the pot staying hot, and there’s a note on the counter.
I crumple the note into a ball and toss it onto the counter with a scoff.
That will not be happening.
I grab a coffee mug from the cabinet and fill it. It’s late afternoon so I’m not feeling like breakfast, other than the coffee. I open the fridge. It’s always packed with food and every other day, new items are added.
Vampires don’t eat human food from what I can remember so he did this all for me. It’s been like this since the day I arrived. He even stocked the fridge with my favorite things, including the type of creamer and sweetener I like for my coffee.
It’s a nice gesture.
Yet he can’t do the nicest thing possible and release me from this captivity.
I frown because as much as I want to be free, my chest tightens at the thought of leaving.
Of leaving him.
I can’t understand why so I tuck these feelings into a box and bury them deep in my head until I forget about it or change the way I feel about the situation I’ve found myself in.
Mindlessly, I make a salad from the ingredients that were conveniently in the fridge, ready to be assembled. It’s apple bacon chicken with walnuts and a honey mustard vinaigrette.
It’s divine.
I don’t remember food ever tasting so good.
I devour the meal in silence, pairing it with a cherry Coke. After washing the dishes I dirtied, I walk into the living room and stop in the middle of it.
This apartment is beautiful. Rich. Decorated in greens and browns and creams.
He really likes green. Every room is painted a different shade, and even the bedding is draped in the color.
He doesn’t have many belongings, which I find strange.
He’s old. I would have assumed he’s accumulated quite a collection.
Maybe this isn’t his main home. Is that why he’s never here?
Does he have a whole family or some shit elsewhere?
A wife? Children? Do vampire children exist?
My memories tell me yes, but vampire rules state children are no longer allowed to be turned.
Huh.
I can remember that but not what Rorik needs so he can let me go?
Whatever.
I admire the fancy living room. There are a few paintings on one wall, one depicting beautiful, curvy women in a garden surrounding a pool of water. Another one is an erotic scene between a woman and a vampire; blood dripping from the bite on her neck.
A self-portrait of Rorik and one of his victims?
I move on to the wall with the couch.
My cheeks burn remembering what we did in the dream. I swallow hard and shake my head because I’m not going to let myself get worked up on the off chance Rorik returns to find me turned on and ready for him.
Not. Happening.
On the third wall, there’s a brick fireplace with a shelf that holds a few plants and green candles in antique silver holders. A massive television is mounted above it. On the other side of the fireplace are floor to ceiling windows covered in a heavy dark green velvet curtain.
Rorik removed the metal barriers on the windows in my room, and no matter how long I banged on the glass, hoping someone would see me, rescue never came. Which means he’s warded all the windows with magic.
The fucker.
Soon I’ll come to terms that I may never leave this place, and what pisses me off is the longer I’m here, the more I want to stay.
I can’t understand it.
I can’t…
My heart flutters in my chest, accompanied by a pinch of pain.
Am I… dying?
Maybe I’m having a panic attack.
I’ve had several since being taken, but this is the first time it’s physically affected me.
Should I call 911? How? I have no phone except for the one that calls down to the lobby. Would Lloyd help me? What if the police arrive and they take me away and lock Rorik up for what he’s done?
I would never see him again.
Good!
No!
Oh, God. What’s wrong with me?
The phone next to the door rings, making me yelp at the loud, unexpected noise. I walk over and pick up the receiver.
“Aurora,” Rorik says in his deeply sexy voice. “Are you okay?”
How did he…?
Wait.
Can he see me?
Are there… cameras in here?
I scan the corners of the kitchen and spot one. I do the same in the living room—another camera.
Oh hell no.
“Aurora?” Concern fills his voice, but I’m not going to reward his bad behavior with a response.
I slam the phone’s receiver on the hook and face the kitchen’s camera. I flip it off because I’m confident he’s watching.
My chest tightens again, this time with fury.
I scream and ball up my fists. There’s a lovely vase with beautiful flowers inside that I hadn’t noticed till now. I swipe it onto the floor, smirking up at the camera when it shatters to pieces.
But my rage quickly turns to despair. Tears build behind my eyes.
I’m crashing the fuck out.
My mind and body fail to communicate and suddenly I’m walking down the hallway to Rorik’s bedroom. The pain in my chest lessens the moment I walk in, but the butterflies in my stomach wake as I take in the room. It’s so neat and organized. Again with deep green walls and matching bedding.
I lie down on the king-sized bed and run my palms over the comforter. It’s soft and welcoming.
For the first time since being brought here against my will, my body calms.
And I fall asleep.