Chapter 137: His Rules
Aurora’s POV
I flipped the paper over with trembling fingers. My eyes blurred for a second as I saw the next list of requirements.
"Rule six," I continued, swallowing hard. "The Submissive will not speak of the Master to anyone. Not a friend, not a doctor, and especially not to your king. If a single word about our arrangement leaves your lips, the contract is void, the money is retracted, and we will never see each other again."
It was a death sentence. He was cutting me off from the world, ensuring that if things went wrong, I’d have nobody to turn to.
"Rule seven," I said, my voice growing colder. "The Submissive must keep a ’Submissive Kit’ provided by the Master in her car or bag at all times. This kit will contain clothing, toys, and restraints as chosen by the Master."
"I expect you to be ready for me," Raymond interrupted, his eyes boring into mine. "Whether I call you to a high-end restaurant or a dark alley, you will change into whatever I’ve provided without complaint. You will be my toy, Aurora. Not just behind closed doors, but in the world I choose for you."
"Rule eight," I read, feeling a flush of heat crawl up my neck. "The Submissive will not reach orgasm unless explicitly permitted by the Master. Any ’spontaneous’ release will result in a strike. Three strikes, and the weekly payment is halved."
I looked up at him, my eyes snapping with a mix of fury and disbelief. "You want to control that, too? That’s... that’s impossible."
"Nothing is impossible, Aurora," he said, leaning so close I could smell the leather and the faint, dark musk of his skin. "I will know. I can smell the change in your scent. I can feel the shift in your pulse. If you take your pleasure without my permission, you are stealing from me. And I don’t like thieves."
I bit my tongue so I couldn’t argue. I had to be the perfect little submissive until I found the opening I needed.
"Rule nine," I whispered, finishing the list. "The Submissive will answer to the name ’Pet’ or ’Little Bitch’ whenever in the presence of the Master. Failure to use the Master’s preferred titles will result in physical discipline."
Raymond stood up, his massive frame towering over me. He reached out, his gloved thumb tracing the line of my jaw before gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him.
"Rule ten... Don’t fall in love with me," he warned.
I scoffed inwardly. It was a joke for him to think I would actually fall for him.
"Ten rules for three months," he said, his voice authoritative.
"Don’t rush to sign it," Raymond said, his voice dropping into a low, smooth vibration that felt like a warning. He leaned back, his gloved fingers interlaced over his chest. "Take it home. Read every word until they are burned into your brain. If you bring it back tomorrow, signed, there is no turning back. Do you understand?"
I stared at the papers, the ink looking like black blood on the white sheets. "I understand," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the thump of the music bleeding through the walls from the club outside.
"Good. Now get out," he commanded, his eyes tracking the movement of my throat as I swallowed. "And Aurora? Don’t be late tomorrow. I’m already losing my patience with your hesitation."
I didn’t wait for him to change his mind. I grabbed the folder, clutching it to my chest like a shield, and walked out. My legs felt heavy, like I was walking through deep water. As I passed through the club, I could feel the eyes of the regulars on me—men who looked at me like I was just another piece of meat—but I ignored them.
I reached the car, the million-dollar engine purring to life as I gripped the steering wheel. I didn’t drive straight to the Packhouse. I couldn’t. Oliver’s senses were too sharp; he’d smell the fear and the scent of Raymond on me before I even crossed the threshold.
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Oliver.
I’m closing early. Exhausted. I’ll be home soon.
His reply was almost instant: Okay, baby. Be careful. I’m waiting for you.
I drove to my apartment instead. The silence of the small space felt suffocating. I went straight to the kitchen table and dropped the documents. I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t bear to see the words "Submissive" and "Pet" again just yet. I went into the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and stood under the spray of the shower, scrubbing my skin until it was red, trying to wash away the feeling of Raymond’s gaze.
Once I was dressed in clean clothes, I hid the documents in the back of my closet, beneath a pile of old sweaters. I took a deep breath, composed my face in the mirror, and drove to the Packhouse.
The garage was quiet when I pulled in. I took the elevator to the top floor, my heart skipping beats as the numbers climbed. I reached Oliver’s door and knocked softly before entering.
Oliver was standing by the large window that overlooked the pack lands, his back to me. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his shoulders, making him look every bit the untouchable King. When he heard the door, he turned around, and for a second, I felt a sharp pang in my chest. Oliver was looking at me with eyes that were soft and full of a terrifyingly pure affection.
"You’re home," he said, his voice deep and soothing. He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling me into a firm embrace. He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "You smell like the club. Smoke and cheap gin. I hate that you were there all day."
"I’m sorry, Oliver," I whispered against his chest, my heart hammering. I felt like a criminal. I felt like if he held me long enough, he would smell the ’Pet’ Raymond had already started to create. "I have to work. I can’t depend on your money."
"Damn it," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at my face. He frowned slightly, his thumb brushing my cheek. "You look exhausted, Aurora. And your pulse is racing. Did something happen?"
"Just the stress of the hospital," I lied, the words coming easier now. "And James... the doctor said I should be prepared."
Oliver’s expression shifted instantly to one of deep sympathy. He led me to the bed, sitting me down and keeping my hands in his. "I’m so sorry, Aurora. I’ll send the pack’s best healers again tomorrow. We won’t give up on him."
I nodded, unable to speak. Every time he was kind, it felt like a slap in the face.
"Get some sleep," he said softly, kissing my forehead. "I have more work to do in the study, but I’ll be back soon."
I watched him walk out, the heavy door clicking shut. The silence of the room felt like a trap. I lay back on the silk pillows, staring at the ceiling. In my mind, I could still hear Raymond’s voice: Rule ten... Don’t fall in love with me.
I wanted to laugh. Raymond was a monster, a murderer, a ghost in a mask. Oliver was a man who gave me the world. I would never love a beast like Raymond. But as I closed my eyes, I didn’t see Oliver’s gentle smile. I saw the dark slits of that mask and felt the cold grip of the gloves on my chin.