Aurora woke to the warmth of strong arms wrapped around her. The early morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. She blinked slowly, her mind hazy with sleep. For a moment, she couldn’t place where she was. Then the events of the night before came rushing back to her. She was in Damian’s chambers, and his arms were holding her tightly against him.
She shifted slightly, trying to ease herself out of his grip, but the movement only caused him to tighten his hold. His breath was warm against the back of her neck, steady and calm. Aurora froze, her thoughts racing. How had she allowed herself to fall asleep here? She had meant to return to the hall, to show her strength and resilience in front of the guests. Instead, she had let herself be lulled into the false comfort of Damian’s presence.
Her eyes stared at the ceiling, her thoughts twisting in knots. Why did she feel so safe here, in the arms of the man who had bought her? Damian was the reason she was in this position, and yet her body betrayed her, relaxing against him as if this were where she belonged. The conflict inside her grew with every passing second.
Damian stirred behind her, his grip loosening slightly as he shifted. Aurora took the chance to slip out from under his arm, careful not to wake him. She moved to the edge of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sat there for a moment, staring at the room that symbolized her new life.
The opulence of the chambers was a stark contrast to the humble shack where she had spent most of her childhood. The silk sheets, the carved furniture, the scent of luxury that lingered in the air-it all reminded her of the price she had paid to be here. Her mother had sold her into slavery, choosing survival over love. That betrayal still burned deeply in her heart.
And yet, here she was, caught in a web she couldn’t seem to escape. Damian had defiled her, claimed her as his mistress without her consent, and yet…why did her heart race when he looked at her? Why did her body respond to his touch? It was a betrayal of her own will, and she hated herself for it.
Aurora’s fingers clenched into fists. She couldn’t let herself fall into the trap of feeling anything for him. He was her captor, her master, and nothing more. Whatever safety she thought she felt in his arms was an illusion. She had to remember that.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Aurora turned her head sharply, her heart pounding. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and one of the maids stepped inside. The young woman’s eyes widened slightly when she saw Aurora sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair tousled and her robe slipping off one shoulder.
“My lady,” the maid said softly, bowing her head. “Shall I prepare your bath?”
Aurora hesitated, the title feeling foreign and uncomfortable. She nodded briefly, her voice catching in her throat. “Yes. Thank you.”
The maid curtsied and disappeared into the adjoining bathing room. The sound of water being poured into the tub filled the silence, and Aurora took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She glanced over her shoulder at Damian, who was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He looked so different when he was like this, his face free of the usual arrogance and control.
She turned away quickly, angry at herself for even noticing such things. Rising from the bed, she pulled her robe tighter around her and made her way to the bathing room. The warm steam enveloped her as she stepped inside, and she allowed herself a moment of relief as she sank into the water.
As the maid worked silently, washing Aurora’s hair and scrubbing her skin, Aurora’s thoughts continued to churn. She couldn’t let herself become complacent. Damian might have given her a position of power in his house, but that didn’t mean she was free. She was still a slave, bound to his will and his desires. And the guests from the night before would not forget her absence. She had to face them again, to show them that she wasn’t weak.
By the time the bath was over, Aurora felt more composed. She dressed in a simple yet elegant gown that the maid laid out for her, the soft fabric a reminder of her new status. As she left the bathing room, she found Damian awake and sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her.
“Good morning, my pet,” he said, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You disappeared on me last night.”
Aurora’s heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. She straightened her spine, refusing to let him see her discomfort. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said softly. “It won’t happen again.”
Damian’s lips curved into a smirk. “You were tired. I’ll allow it this time.” He stood, his movements graceful and commanding. Aurora’s breath caught as he approached her, his presence overwhelming.
He stopped in front of her, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “But you must remember, Aurora,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You belong to me. Don’t ever forget that.”
Aurora’s jaw tightened, but she forced herself to nod. “Yes, my lord.”
Satisfied, Damian stepped back and gestured toward the door. “Come.