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CHAPTER 29

AURORA

I leaned over the counter and ran my open palm over the steamed mirror. My reflection came into focus. I stood and stared for several minutes. I lifted my arm and traced the faint outline of Roman’s bite mark at the base of my neck. Each day it faded a bit more, yet the mark on my soul remained.

The last several days were a strange somnolent blur.

I spent them tucked into Roman’s bed. I hadn’t left his bedroom, not once. It was strange. I spent hour after hour staring at the bedroom doorknob, wondering if it was locked, but too scared to cross the room and learn the truth. I was like Schr?dinger’s cat, possibly trapped, possibly free all at the same time.

The doctors returned later that first afternoon but Roman ordered them out when he thought one of them touched me with unnecessary familiarity. After that, I only occasionally saw Roman’s silent butler who brought me trays of food. He refused to make eye contact or even respond to my feeble attempts at conversation.

Roman hadn’t touched me after that first morning.

I knew he slept beside me. I could feel his dark presence at night. Each time, he would silently slip into bed beside me long after he assumed I was asleep. His arm would wrap around my middle and gently pull me into his embrace. I thought I’d be too nervous or tense to fall asleep that close to him, but I was wrong. There was something oddly soothing about having him near, having his large warm body snuggled next to mine. In my unguarded moments, just before sleep overcame me, I would relish the comforting feel of him watching over me, protecting me.

After all, nothing kept the demons away better than the demon king himself.

Each morning he would leave before the dawn, with only the lingering warmth of the blankets to prove he wasn’t a dream.

That was the discordant rhythm of our lives the last few days. Him avoiding me during the day but holding me close at night. Silently working his way into my every thought. I truly was the butterfly trapped in a jar, just waiting for him to open the lid and grant me my freedom.

Except, I knew deep down, my freedom would never come.

I had no money, no friends, no home. There was still a double murder charge dangling over my head like a hangman’s noose. My entire life was in limbo. I wasn’t living, but I wasn’t dead. I had the potential of a future in Paris at uni while at the same time the potential of no future at all.

The deeper I sank into the abyss, the more I knew everything led back to Roman.

He was the dark sun of my chaotic universe.

The puppet master behind my demise.

There would be no freedom for me, as long as he lived. He had made that much abundantly clear.

I tilted my head to the side, taking a moment to listen to the spray of water behind me. Roman was in the shower. I could see the outline of his toned body through the frosted glass. I looked down at the marble countertop. Cast to one side was a pair of long silver scissors. The kind you see in a barber shop. Keeping my eyes trained on the reflection in the mirror over my shoulder, I shifted my hand along the counter’s edge until my fingertips were inches from the scissors.

My index finger reached out to touch the sharp point. I was already suspected of committing a heinous double murder. What was one more?

I could hear the ominous, discordant tones of Berlioz’s ’March to the Scaffold’ from his Symphonie Fantastique pounding in my head.

I ran my finger down the cool metal length of the scissors. The surface was slightly slick from the shower steam. I traced one of the finger loops as I tried to imagine it. Could I do it? Could I pick up these scissors and plunge the sharp point into his heart? Could I feel the hard muscle relent as it sank into his flesh? Could I stop the strong heartbeat I had come to rely on to lull me to sleep? I couldn’t even imagine his warm, hard flesh turning cold and lifeless. He wasn’t human to me. He was a demon sent to torment me. It was hard to believe a blow from a simple pair of scissors would be enough to kill him.

I closed my fist around the scissors, clutching them so hard my knuckles turned white. I didn’t know how long I stood there. My reflection blurred as the mirror once more filled up with steam.

My lower lip trembled.

I couldn’t do it.

I am in love with him.

I am in love with my demon captor, my tormentor.

I didn’t know when it happened or how. The only rational explanation was that I was irrational, clearly insane. Only an insane person would have feelings for a man like Roman. He was toxic. Poison. A dangerously manipulative, arrogant man who would make my life a living hell if I let him. I may be in love with him, but he terrified me just the same. I knew with his power and influence, there was nowhere I could run, nowhere I could hide to escape him.

The only way this ended was in one of our deaths.

I was the butterfly, trapped in the killing jar.

I clutched the scissors tighter, feeling the sharp metal edge bite into my palm.

A large masculine hand covered my fist.

I cried out.

Roman placed his other hand on the curve of my waist and kissed my neck, on the spot left by his sharp bite. “Did I startle you, love?”

My heart raced as I tried to quell my body’s trembling. I had been so lost in my twisted thoughts, I hadn’t heard the shower stop. “No… not at all.”

Roman leaned over and pressed a small brass button on the frame of the mirror. The steam evaporated. I was startled to see our reflection with Roman’s powerful frame looming over me from behind. He only had a black towel wrapped low around his hips. The hair on his chest was slightly curled and still damp from his shower. His tanned skin so much darker than my own.

His eyes captured mine in the mirror.

He gently squeezed his hand over my fist.

I bit my lip as my gaze fluttered down to his hand covering mine and back.

He didn’t say a word. Just stared at me. He then slowly raised one eyebrow as his lips lifted in a smirk.

He knows.

Somehow, he knows.

But what does he know?

Does he know I love him?

Or does he know I thought of murdering him just now?

His hand around my waist lifted to caress my back. He ran his fingers up my spine then stopped at my neck. As he kept his gaze locked on mine in the mirror, he moved his fingers around my throat. With gentle pressure, he forced me to lean my head back on his shoulder, all while keeping the threatening presence of his hand around my neck.

He leaned down. “I talked with DCI Casen today.”

The man who dragged me into the police station in the middle of the night to accuse me of murdering my mother and stepfather.

I swallowed. Trying to keep my voice light, I asked, “You did? What—” I licked my dry lips. “What did he have to say?”

Roman smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “They’ve ruled it a murder–suicide. Alfred pulled the trigger. You are completely cleared of any wrongdoing.”

The news did not bring the expected welcome sigh of relief. The tight fist in my chest stayed clenched. Somehow, deep down, I knew I had never been in any real danger of being charged. Somehow, someway, I knew this was all part of Roman’s game. Most of the evidence against me was strangely tied to Roman in some way. It was irrational but then again, everything about my situation was irrational. I was crazy to think it, but I knew… I knew … he was responsible… for all of it.

I forced my stiff lips into a smile. “We should go out and celebrate.”

Roman kissed the top of my shoulder. “My thoughts exactly.”

We stood perfectly still.

My palm clutching the scissors began to sweat. My fingers stiffened. All I could feel was the weight of his hand on top of mine. Damning me and my intentions.

I jerked slightly when he broke the silence.

“My brother is giving a masquerade party this evening. I thought it would amuse you to attend. If you have your strength back.”

My voice warbled as I blinked away the tears forming. “Sounds like fun.”

His fingers flexed over my throat. “I’ve laid out something special I want you to wear. I also got you a gift to grace this beautiful neck of yours.” He tightened his fingers slightly, not enough to cut off my air, just a subtle threat that he could do so if he chose.

I swallowed. I was so lightheaded, I didn’t think I barely had enough air to force out a hesitant whisper. “I’ll just get ready.”

Roman smiled. “Good girl.”

He lifted the hand covering mine and turned, deliberately showing me his back.

Almost daring me…

I looked down at the scissors.