AURORA MOON
After her mother died, Aurora Moon learned to keep her sadness to herself. Not only did her grief-driven depression infuriate her father, but it also incited the cruelty of her stepmother.
If her sister Ivy felt sad for even a second, she was given kisses and candy. Ivy learned the economy of feigned vulnerability, a currency Aurora was never permitted to spend.
Aurora Moon's sadness received slaps and scolding. Her grief was a stain to be scrubbed out. She learned to muffle the sobs and hide the pain her family found so inconvenient.
Back then, even though her family was unkind, and Ivy framed her constantly for her own bad behavior—a broken vase, a missing necklace, a whispered lie—Aurora clung to them. If she kept trying, if she was just good enough, quiet enough, helpful enough, maybe one day they would really see her and finally, finally, love her.
The day after she graduated college, Kellan Ward confessed his love for her and asked her to marry him.
She said no.
Kellan was undeterred.
The third time Kellan confessed to her, and she said no, Aiden Cross came to her. He was a wolf in the charming guise of a friend. He'd pretended to be nice to her, teasing her just enough so that she believed he liked her. His carrot and the stick approach kept her on tenterhooks, her heart a yo-yo in his careless hands.
She wanted so badly to be loved. She wasn't exactly sure what love felt like anymore. She had vague, dream-like memories of her mother hugging her, singing off-key lullabies to her, cooking her favorite soup. She remembered the warmth exuded by Mom, a physical radiance that seemed to chase the chill from the room. The gentle look in her eyes that made Aurora feel seen, not as a nuisance, but as a marvel.
So when Aiden approached her, and asked her to accept Kellan's proposal, to become his fiancee and live in his house, she agreed. It felt like a path, however twisted, back to something resembling that warmth. Aiden promised to marry her. He painted a future where they would be together, using Kellan's wealth as their stepping stone.
Now, she realized that he wanted whatever she could steal from Kellan. Priceless antiques, money, company secrets ... she gave Aiden whatever he asked, until the well was dry.
And Kellan, despite her constant betrayals, her cold rejections, her calculated cruelty, loved her without question. He tolerated all of her bad behavior because that was the nature of his obsessive love. That was him, to the core. As long as he possessed her, no matter what she did, he forgave her.
Aiden only wanted what he could get from her. When she'd taken all she could from Kellan, Aiden married her and took her designs, her mother's fashion company, her stupid, naive heart. He took it all and gave it to Ivy.
And then he stole her life.
Aurora had escaped from the man who would burn down the whole world for her to marry a man who thought she was dirt under his shoes.
Now, Aurora suddenly had a twin brother. An actual blood family relation who seemed to want to protect her. But she couldn't really know his motives, could she?
The only person on this earth she knew she could absolutely trust was Kellan Ward. His love was monstrous in its intensity, but it was real. It was the one constant in her chaotic life, a north star in a black sky.
Aurora knew he was looking for her. And she knew he wouldn't find her without a little help. Even if he set Ash City on fire, he wouldn't discover her location. Her brother had made sure of that.
"He's going to be so mad at me," she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. The face that looked back was pale, its eyes shadowed with a resolve that felt like madness. "Please forgive me, Kellan. And find me, okay?"
The glass that held warm milk had been dashed against the shower tiles. She made sure the water was running at its highest pressure to mute the sound. She locked the bathroom door, filled the bathtub, and---with a towel wrapped around her---slid into the warm water.
"I don't want to die," she said to the steamy air, as if Kellan could hear her. "I really don't, Kellan. But my injuries have to be bad enough for Ryder to take me to a hospital."
If she could get out of this fortress of her brother's, then Kellan could find her. Kellan knew every dark corner of Ash City, and he owned half of it. A hospital was a public place, a node in the city's nervous system that he would monitor.
Aurora put her left hand palm side up, pressed the sharp edge to the skin under the pinky-side of her forearm and dragged it down her flesh. A hiss escaped her lips, a sharp, pained sound swallowed by the roar of the shower. Blood began to spill from the deep wound, a shocking, vibrant red against her pale skin. She performed the same rough cut on her other hand, though it wasn't quite as deep, her right hand trembling with the effort.
She knew the sides of her forearms would bleed heavily, but---if she was lucky---cause the least damage. Her so-called suicide attempts in Life #1 had always been performative, desperate cries for help disguised as farewells, so she knew where to cut without truly hurting herself.
However, this time, she had to take the risk of actual self-harm. It would be the only sure way to make Ryder take action, to shatter his controlled environment and force his hand. This was not a performance; it was a strategic, bloody gambit.
She lay back in the tub, her forearms bleeding into the water. Red flowers bloomed over and over again, the tendrils swirling in the current like morbid watercolor paint, until she felt so tired, a deep, anchoring fatigue that pulled at her bones
The world narrowed to the sound of water and the fading, coppery scent of her own blood.
Aurora closed her eyes.