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I switch on the internal cameras to see what she's up to. She's been here for a few days now, and she's finally starting to settle in, to become used to our ways of living at night rather than day. Mrs. Graves has been taking good care of her, and I've made sure my men keep their distance.
I watch now as she paces in her room, wandering aimlessly. She's wearing a plain gray sweatshirt, the oversized fabric swallowing her petite frame, her shorts peeking out only occasionally as she creeps along. Her long hair is loose around her shoulders, and she looks younger than her years.
I'm not sure why I'm spying on her like this.
She's a means to an end, nothing more. But there's something about her that draws me in. Maybe it's that very innocence, her naivety about the world we live in.
Or maybe it was the way she looked at me with those big, doe-like eyes, as if she saw something in me that I can't see myself, and whispered her thanks to me for saving her from Nero.
Whatever it is, I can't shake it off. I find myself watching her more and more, even when I know I should be focusing on other things.
I haven't seen her in person again since the day I took her. Something keeps me away, some instinct for danger. Because sheisdangerous, somehow. Not like I am. No, Aurora isdangerous like a beautiful, poisonous plant, something delicate and deadly.
Deadly to me alone, perhaps.
It's late, coming on for dawn, and I know I should finish up and head to bed. But I can't tear my eyes away from the screen as Aurora paces back and forth. I'm addicted to the sight of her.
I thought once Ihadher, I'd be satisfied. She belongs to me and will always belong to me.
Why can't that knowledge be enough?
On the monitor, she suddenly looks around, as if sensing someone's presence. I hold my breath, foolishly afraid she'll see me through the camera.
But of course she doesn't. She just stands there for a moment, before she goes to the door of her quarters and pulls it open, just a crack. She presses her face to the opening and looks out at the hallway beyond for a moment. Then she closes it, turns, and continues to pace her room.
That's the farthest she's gotten since she's been here. She hasn't dared go beyond the door of her rooms, despite my telling her she could explore the house.
I exhale, yawn. I need to get a hold of myself. This obsession with her is going to be my downfall. It's time to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day, and I have a city to take over, after all.
I leave my study and head down the hallway, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. As I pass by the junction that leads down to Aurora's rooms, I can't help but glance her way.
I wonder what she's dreaming about.
Over the next few days, I can't resist spying on Aurora through the security cameras whenever I'm in my study alone. But things seem to be changing, and not for the better. She rarely leaves her bed now, and when she does, all I see is the defeated slump of her shoulders. She used to radiate vibrancy, life.
Now that light seems…dimmed.
It's only been a few days but she looks thinner. Paler. Dark circles under her eyes. And this fading spirit troubles me in ways I cannot explain.
When I claimed her that day, bursting into the wedding chapel to take what was rightfully mine, she burned bright as the sun, defiant even with fear in her eyes. She was the same as a girl, too, that teenager who stared straight at me as I exited her tiny house.
Now it seems the spark in her has been smothered, extinguished by her captivity here in my stronghold.
And I shouldn't care.
But I do.
I summon Mrs. Graves, my most trusted member of staff and the one who has been tasked with tending to the girl, and I question her about Aurora, masking my concern with nonchalance. Yet anger rises in me as she reports her refusal to eat, the long hours she spends staring at nothing.
Leaning forward, I demand, "Has she been harmed under my roof?"
Mrs. Graves shows impatience that I wouldn't tolerate in any member of the Syndicate. "No, ma'am, she most certainly has not. But you can't shut a girl up in darkness andnotexpect her to fade."
I dismiss her abruptly, unsatisfied. I live my life in the night just fine, as do all my people. No, I'm sure it must be something more. So I gather the staff into my war room, and I read them the riot act. Halfway through, Lyssa slips into the room.
I bet Mrs. Graves told her to come in here. They all think Lyssa is the only one who can talk me down when I'm furious.
Well, they're not wrong.
