His Human, His Sin (Book 2 of Aurora the Vampire's Pet)

They say there are laws older than language. Rules carved into blood and bone long before creatures like me learned to fear the world. Rules that cannot be changed, cannot be questioned—only obeyed. And yet here I was, standing on the edge of something forbidden, unable to turn away from it. No one ever warned me that the most dangerous chains are not the ones around your wrists. They are the ones you place around your own heart. For as long as I can remember, there has been one truth every human in a vampire household is taught—whether through whispered warnings, brutal examples, or the silent terror in the eyes of the others like me: A human slave must never fall in love with their master. Not even in a dream. It is a sin, a curse, a death sentence disguised as longing. A desire that can never be returned. A boundary that cannot be crossed without consequence. And yet last night… I crossed it. Or maybe he did. I don’t know anymore. I keep replaying that moment in my mind—not because I want to, but because my thoughts refuse to let it go. Every time I close my eyes, I feel it again. The too-gentle way his hand hovered near mine, as if he were afraid I would break. The way his breath hesitated, almost like a question. And then—the kiss. It was not violent, or hurried, or greedy. It was quiet. Careful. Almost… hesitant. Like something he shouldn’t be doing. Like something we would both regret when morning came. A moment that shouldn’t have existed at all. I’ve tried convincing myself I imagined it—that exhaustion and fear created a memory that doesn’t belong to this world. That my mind, desperate for comfort, invented something beautiful in a place where beauty doesn’t survive. But if it was only a dream, then why do I still feel the warmth of his lips against mine? Why do I keep touching my mouth like I’m afraid the memory will fade if I don’t hold onto it? And why did he look at me this morning as if everything in him remembered it too? There are a thousand reasons why it shouldn’t have happened, and only one reason why it did: Because for a moment—for a breath—I wasn’t his property and he wasn’t my master. We were just two beings who had no right to want each other. I know what they would call me if anyone learned the truth: foolish, delusional, cursed. A girl who let her heart attach itself to the very thing that owns her. And yet I can’t deny it. Not to myself. Not anymore. Because something changed last night. Something shifted inside me, subtle and dangerous, like the first crack in a dam built to hold back a flood. A crack I know will only grow, no matter how many reasons I list against it. I should fear this. I do. Because what do you do when the person you are taught to fear becomes the only person you wish would stay? What do you do when the one touch you should never want becomes the only thing your body remembers? Nothing about this is simple. Nothing about this is safe. I know what happens to humans who cross that invisible line, who forget their place, who mistake a moment of tenderness for something real. I have seen the way their stories end. I have seen the price of wanting something forbidden. So why do I keep thinking about it? Why does it feel like my heart has been rewired, like something in me has shifted into a shape I do not recognize? I used to pray that one day I would forget I ever belonged to him at all. Now I pray for something infinitely more dangerous: I pray that the kiss meant to him even a fraction of what it meant to me. Because if it didn’t… If it was nothing more than a mistake, a moment of weakness he has already begun to regret… Then I am ruined. Because loving him—even secretly, silently, hopelessly—is a crime I cannot undo. The world outside his walls would never understand it. The world inside them would destroy me for it. There is no safe place to put a love like this, no corner of any realm in which it could exist without burning everything in its path. And yet the fire is already spreading. I feel it in every breath. Every thought. Every memory of the way he pulled away only because he had to, not because he wanted to. The look in his eyes haunts me more than the kiss itself. He looked at me as if I were something breakable. As if the thought of hurting me terrified him. And that is impossible. He is my master. I am his possession. There is no space in that truth for mercy. Or desire. Or whatever last night was. Maybe tomorrow we will pretend it never happened. Maybe he already regrets it. Maybe I should too. But I don’t. The world I live in has taken everything from me—my freedom, my name, my past, and my future. But it has not taken this: the memory of a moment that was never supposed to exist. A moment I will carry like a secret beneath my skin. A moment that might destroy me. A moment that might already have. I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know how to breathe normally around him anymore. I don’t know what to do with a heart that beats for the one person I should run from. All I know is this: There is no rule, no punishment, no ancient law strong enough to make me forget the way he kissed me. And there is no turning back now. Not for me. Not for us. Not after last night.