Luna didn’t have an answer. She knew all too well the pain of being discarded, but she had never felt the sting of betrayal from someone who was supposed to love and protect her. Instead, she held Aurora tighter, her own eyes misting over with the weight of her friend’s pain. “Some people,” she murmured, “just don’t know how to love.”
Aurora’s sobs grew quieter, but the tremors in her body didn’t subside. She knew that she couldn’t let her mother’s actions define her. She had to find a way to survive this, to escape this life and build a future that she could be proud of. She took a deep, shuddering breath and pushed herself to her feet. “I won’t let her win,” she said, her voice filled with determination. “I won’t let any of them break me.”
Luna looked up at Aurora with admiration shining in her eyes. “You’re so strong,” she murmured. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“You’re strong too,” Aurora said, wiping at her eyes. “You’ve survived here longer than I have.”
Luna offered a sad smile. “Survive is all we can do for now,” she said, her voice filled with a weary resignation. “But we can’t let it be our only goal.”
Aurora nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. “You’re right,” she said, her voice firming with resolve. “We need to find a way out of here. Together.”
They huddled on the bed, their hearts racing in sync with the fear and determination that filled the room. The party outside grew louder, the muffled sounds of laughter and music a stark contrast to the heavy silence between them. They knew that every minute they spent in the mansion was another minute closer to their inevitable fate.
“We’re not going back to that party,” Aurora said firmly, her voice a declaration of war. She looked at Luna, her eyes filled with a fierce determination that had not been there before.
Luna nodded in agreement, her own resolve strengthened by Aurora’s words. “We’ll find another way,” she murmured, her voice a gentle promise in the quiet sanctuary of their room.
Exhaion from the emotional turmoil claimed them both, and before they could even begin to formulate a plan, sleep took them. Their bodies entwined on the bed, seeking comfort in each other’s warmth, they succumbed to the sweet embrace of oblivion. The party outside grew distant, the muffled sounds of debauchery a fading lullaby as their breaths evened out.
Aurora was the first to stir, the light of the early dawn seeping through the velvet curtains. She lay there for a moment, her eyes unfocused, until the events of the night before crashed back into her consciousness like a tidal wave. Her mother’s betrayal, the cruel games of the mansion’s inhabitants, the looming threat of Damian-it was all too much. With a heavy sigh, she sat up, her eyes falling on the outfit laid out for her-a silent reminder of the evening’s servitude that awaited.
“Luna,” she whispered, shaking her friend gently. “We need to get ready. Just as she said that the door swung open revealing a new guard, she almost lost her breath due to his handsome features. He was tall, muscular, with piercing grey eyes and a jaw that could cut glass.
“You’re to come with me,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Aurora’s eyes widened in fear, but Luna was already on her feet, her body tense and ready to fight. “We’re not going anywhere,” she said, her voice a warning growl.
The guard’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Aurora placed a gentle hand on Luna’s arm. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the tremble in her chest.
Luna’s gaze searched Aurora’s, looking for any sign of doubt or fear. Finding none, she reluctantly stepped aside, allowing the guard to lead Aurora out of the room. As they walked down the corridor, Aurora couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of deja vu. The opulent decor, the cold marble floors-it was all too familiar. But this time, she was not being taken to Miss Catherine for another round of training or to be presented to Damian’s guests. This time, she was being taken to face her fate head-on.
The guard opened the door to a dimly lit chamber, and Aurora was pushed inside. The room smelled faintly of leather and something darker, something that sent a shiver down her spine. She took in the sight before her-the four poster bed, the velvet restraints, the array of whips and paddles neatly arranged on the nightstand. This was the master’s chamber, she realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Damian was lounging on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist, revealing a tapestry of tattoos that snaked over his muscled chest. His eyes met hers, and she saw a flicker of amusement in their cold depths. “Welcome, Aurora,” he said, his voice a velvet purr that seemed to echo in the vastness of the room.
Her knees felt like they might buckle under the weight of his gaze, but she forced herself to stand tall. She was not going to let him see her fear, not again. “What do you want from me?” she demanded, her voice stronger than she felt.