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CHAPTER SEVEN
Thick, inky blackness. My mind was a voided slate with random splashes of colorful memories. My eyelids were heavy, and it felt as though I’d been sleeping for days. I was in a bed, but not my own. Tiny threads of sunlight crept through the cracks in the curtains. The sheets felt cool against my skin, and my head settled into the plush pillow. I clutched the comforter in my fist and brought it close to my body, clinging to it like a security blanket. I blinked away the heaviness until everything began to come softly into focus.
White.
The comforter was white.
I could’ve sworn it was blue last night. And the walls were a different color. They were a darker shade of gray than the one I was staring at now.
It all looked so different. It allfeltso different.
Because it was.
This wasn’t the same room I fell asleep in. At least I remembered that.
This room had white and taupeeverything. Soft brown curtains made of heavy velvet kept most of the sunlight from coming in. There was an oversized chair and ottoman in one corner by the bed and a tall, three-door armoire painted ivory but trimmed in gold. A solid crystal chandelier hung over the bed. The other room felt dark and cryptic, at least from what I remembered. This room felt elegant and formal, noble even, like a princess should be sleeping here instead of me. I looked all around, then toward the door, trying to remember how I got here. Nothing. Just patches. I had all these separate pieces with no knowledge of the puzzle.
Images of Caspian flashed in my mind in one of the more vibrant memories. I remembered the way he took me—if you could call ittaking. I offered myself to him. I knew that. All he did was accept. That part came back to me clear as day.
He wasn’t gentle. There was no coddling, coaxing or asking if I was okay. He fucked me, savage and fierce, like he was determined to make his mark on my soul. Then again, I didn’t expect anything less from him. Caspian had always felt distant and dangerous, but he also felt safe. I knew with him I was protected—from everything but him. He didn’t make me feel delicate or fragile. He made me feel powerful and cherished all at once. My body sang for him. I was already addicted to the way it felt.
My virginity wasn’t ever something I dwelled on, not like most girls I knew. Lyric lost hers a few months ago, and I lived vicariously through her. I never felt the urge to rush into the kind of unrelenting need for release that she always talked about. I never wanted to crave anything the way she craved sex. In my eyes, it was a handicap. Dancing was my passion. It was my future. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of that. But last night, being in The Chamber, stepping outside of my comfort zone and into a world that didn’t revolve around structure and etiquette, stirred something inside of me. It awakened a part of me I didn’t even know was sleeping. There was an intoxicating thrill in walking on the edge of forbidden.
That’s what Caspian was.
He was forbidden.
My father hated his family. My brother hated him.
Maybe that’s why I wanted him. My whole life, I’d been groomed to like the respectable things, speak the proper words, follow the appropriate path, be the perfect angel. Sometimes the halo got heavy. Sometimes I just wanted to take it off and hand myself over to the darkness. I wished I could say it was the alcohol, but that would be a lie. There had always been a current flowing between Caspian and me. I just never knew what it meant until last night.
I rolled over, not believing I’d actually find him sleeping beside me but still feeling the need to check. The bed was empty. There was only me. Something about that made my heart feel heavy. Was it twisted to wonder if he stood at the edge of the bed last night and watched me sleep? Was it even more twisted to wish he had?
I pulled the comforter back and climbed out of bed. Oh my God. My whole body hurt. My muscles ached the way they did after I’d spent hours trying to execute the perfect pirouette. And my lady bits… God. I reached my hand down and cupped my hand over my pussy, seeking some sort of relief from the throbbing soreness. How in the world was I going to pee without wanting to cry?
How in the world was I even supposed to walk?
Where in the world were my panties?
My head throbbed and my legs struggled to hold up my weight as I circled the bed to find the bathroom. I ran my hand along the wall until I found a light switch. My aching muscles almost cried out in relief when I spotted a deep garden tub in the middle of the room. A gold chandelier with crystal teardrops dangling from each arm hung from the ceiling over the tub. A hot bath. God, I wanted a hot bath.
I stood in front of the vanity mirror and took in my appearance. Other than the fact that my hair was a mess and I was wearing nothing but a black vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt, I didn’t look any different than I did last night, but I felt like I’d been transformed. I combed my fingers through my long brown hair, remembering the way Caspian’s fingers were wrapped in it, the way he tugged and pulled while he stretched and filled me until tears rolled down my cheeks. There had to have been something seriously wrong with me for wanting him the way I did, but I couldn’t make myselfnotwant him,notwish he would walk through that door right now and rip me open again.
The air shifted, and for a moment I thought he might actually do just that, but when I walked back into the room there was no one there, nothing but a white serving tray on the bed.
My clothes were folded neatly on the oversized chair. Splashes of bright color spread across the white bed tray—a bowl of fresh fruit, a cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, two tiny, clear plastic cups—one with two pills inside that I immediately recognized as Advil and the other with just one pill I had never seen before but assumed was for the soreness between my legs. Next to the fruit there was an unopened toothbrush and a note written in crisp, precise handwriting.
Take the pills. All three of them.
Then, down at the bottom,Remember, Little Troublemaker, your soul is mine to ruin now.
He left the tray.
Why?
Why would Caspian take the time to do all that with the tray and the note, even sending me a toothbrush, if he was just going to ignore me?
I swallowed the pills down with some orange juice but left the fruit and coffee alone. Then I took the toothbrush and my clothes—except for the corset because I was keeping this T-shirt—to the bathroom and contemplated soaking in that tub.
