Goldsin (The Chrysophilist Trilogy Book 1)
Goldsin: Chapter 7

Where the hell is he?

I pace the perimeter of the living room, glancing at the clock for what feels like the hundredth time. The hands seem to mock me, ticking away. Each second is another testimony of how truly distant we’ve become.

He lied to me.

An hour. Sixty agonizing minutes have passed since 8 p.m., the time Julian was supposed to pick me up for Victoria’s party. Impatience bubbles inside of me. The silence of his absence echoes in my ears.

Where is he!

I adjust the belt of my brown trench coat, pulling it tighter around me as if it will somehow distract me from the ever-growing anticipation. When I look at myself in the mirror, frustration stares back. It’s etched in every line of my face. I fiddle with an invisible strand of hair peeking from the high ponytail, pursing my red lips together in a futile attempt at smoothing out any smudged lines.

But nothing I do will make the detrimental realization that he isn’t coming disappear.

“Damn him,” I mutter under my breath.

Exasperated, I plop down onto the couch. I feel defeated. This is not how tonight was supposed to go.

His absence feels like a slap in the face, a wake-up call that I shouldn’t trust the boy who pushed me into this abyss of solitude in the first place.

It stings, this form of betrayal. But beneath it, there’s an unexpected sense of . . . relief. Because with Julian out of the picture, tonight has become an easier opportunity for me.

Well-fucking-played, asshole. You just turned tonight into a very enticing, unmissable event.

Standing, I pick up my phone, its screen lighting up as I scroll through the list of names. My thumb pauses briefly over Valentine. He probably knows where Victoria’s cabin is located. But calling him will mean having him tag along, and the thought of having his gruff voice dictate how I should go through with the plan is not something I’m in the mood for.

I should have gotten my driver’s license with Eleanora the moment I turned sixteen.

But of course, I didn’t see any use for it until now. Why drive if you have people to drive you all the time? Adrian always drove me places.

My gaze falls to the “VV” contact.

After I broke up with him, Eleanora begged me to change Adrian’s name to “VV”—short for “vapid vampire.” That’s what she’s been calling him since the very first day we started dating. She says he’s dull and draining, and after my second martini I didn’t have the strength to snatch my phone out of her grasp as she typed out his new contact name.

I don’t know why I haven’t changed it yet. Anyway, vampires are cute.

A sense of familiarity washes over me as I stare down at his number. He was there for me when Julian wasn’t. If anyone knows where Victoria’s cabin is, it’ll be him.

Taking a deep breath, I dial his number and wait.

If Julian doesn’t want to give me a ride, I’ll just have to find another way to get to the party.

He picks up within seconds.

“Aurelia?”

“Adrian, do you know where Victoria’s cabin is?”

There’s a pause before he asks, “Why?”

He doesn’t sound surprised, yet there is something off about the way he drags the word out. Maybe he’s just irritated at me for disturbing his Wednesday night at the office.

“I need your help.” I choose my words carefully. I know how to get to him—how to get him to help me. “Julian was supposed to pick me up for the party, but he never showed up. Would you mind giving me a ride?”

Adrian goes silent again. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Aurelia.”

He was always cautious about taking me to these kinds of events when we were dating, so I don’t blame him for not agreeing right away.

“Come on, Adrian.” I taste his name on my lips, dragging out the words. The same way I’d tease him in bed. “I’ve been looking forward to this party for weeks,” I lie. Like I always did in bed. “It will really piss Julian off if you take me instead.”

He sighs heavily, clearly not thrilled at the prospect of going to a party instead of making his father proud.

Silence engulfs us once more, and I’m cautious of his train of thought as he mulls over my offer.

“All right, fine.”

I know I shouldn’t be wondering why he accepted and just be glad he did, yet I can’t help but question it.

“For old times’ sake,” he adds. “But you’d better be ready to go when I get there.”

“Trust me, I am more than ready.”

A few minutes later, there’s a sharp knock at my door.

Adrian’s broad figure fills the doorframe. He’s dressed in a crisp black suit that clings to his lean form, accentuating his muscles. The seriousness in his expression showcases how much he already regrets this.

His wavy hair is combed back meticulously—though he probably threaded his fingers through it several times beforehand. He always does that whenever he’s lost in thought.

Shadows fall on his face from the city lights coming through the window behind him, intensifying his dark ocean eyes. Regret shines behind them. It’s as if he’s already mourning the decision to accompany me.

But why?

“We should go, or we’ll be late,” I say, walking past him to make my way to the underground parking lot where all the Harrows’ cars are parked. They have their own parking floor, while us commoners have to park one floor lower, if we’re lucky.

We make the journey in silence. The longer we drive, the more trees surround us. The scent of pine settles my nerves, filtering in on the chilled August night air streaming through his open window.

I can’t wait to see Julian’s face when he sees me arriving with Adrian.

Settling comfortably on the leather seat of Adrian’s Cullinan, I glance out the window. The destination—a cabin close to the Teanaway Community Forest—simply screams “undisturbed private party.” It’ll take us about an hour or so to get there, so I might as well relax before the long night ahead.

When we finally pull up to the cabin, I can’t help but freeze in awe.

Towering trees cocoon the cabin, hiding it from peering eyes as they cast eerie shadows over the log-built cabin. Some of the moonlight breaks through the branches, bathing it in a graceful glow. It reflects off the large glass windows that seem to be tinted black, obscuring any outsider’s view of whatever is happening inside.

A haunted beauty in the middle of nowhere.

“This place is incredible,” I breathe.

Bloodcurdlingly beautiful.

Adrian parks the Cullinan on a gravel driveway next to a sleek sports car. A few other vehicles are parked haphazardly around the driveway, as if the guests couldn’t wait any longer to get to the party.

We step out of the car, and Adrian leads me down the stone-paved pathway lined with flowers the color of night.

“Wait until you see the inside,” he says, still not so thrilled about being coerced into coming here.

“Thanks again for bringing me, Adrian.” I give him a sincere smile in the hope of warming him up a little.

“Let’s just get inside.” Without looking at me, he leads the way to the front door.

The faint thud coming from the music extends to our ears as we approach the door. But it’s not until we step inside that the complete contrast from the serene exterior strikes me.

Chatter booms, along with the low bass. The cabin is buzzing with people, the music thumping loudly and echoing off the walls.

The atmosphere is intoxicating and charged with a hint of . . . sweat.

The dim red lights cast an almost sinful glow over the guests scattered throughout the space.

Turning to look at Adrian, I catch him unbuttoning his white shirt.

“What are you doing?” My hands extend on their own to stop him.

“Look around, Aurelia.” He tilts his chin at the other guests, and I follow his line of sight, only now noticing how everyone is dressed—or rather, undressed.

Nearly every guest is almost bare.

The guys are wearing nothing but black pants, while the girls are clad in black lingerie, some topless with only nipple covers adorning their chests.

And they’re all wearing masks, making it impossible to identify them.

The outfit Julian picked out for me is starting to make a lot more sense.

Slowly I shrug off the trench coat, revealing the lingerie set I’m wearing. A more revealing choice than the modest black lace teddy Julian picked out for me.

If he wanted me to be discreet and obedient, he should have showed up.

Adrian’s eyes linger on my body, taking in the intricate lace design of petals covering my nipples, down to the intersecting thin strips of satin that form two X’s: a big one at the navel, and a smaller one closer to my midriff.

But my favorite part is the sheer gauze—the same color as my skin—that leaves little to the imagination.

“Come on.” He finally breaks the silence, eyes back on the guests. “Let’s get this night over with.”

I feel exposed yet oddly confident.

Eleanora won’t believe me when I tell her about tonight. Especially the part about me going to this kind of party with Adrian.

Swaying my hips with every step I take, I follow him further into the party.

I scan the faces of the masked guests, searching for any hint of familiarity—or even just someone willing to help me blend in by lending me a mask.

Why didn’t Julian tell me about this part of the dress code? I would have brought one. Especially since I have to go unnoticed while I search around the place.

Although, the deeper I navigate through the sea of naked bodies, the more I notice how everyone is too busy grinding on one another to notice me.

This strange sense of exhilaration mixes with my uneasiness.

This party is a far cry from the usual high-society events I’ve attended in the past. Despite my determination to see my plan through, I can’t help but feel the intoxicating air affecting my senses.

No.

Stick to the plan.

I need to find a mask, then I need to find a way to leave Adrian behind for a little while. Just enough time for me to look around.

With my thoughts cleared, I follow Adrian as he parts the crowd, sneaking a peek here and there at the people around me.

“Look who decided to join us,” a voice purrs from behind us.

Victoria.

Turning around, I watch her approach. Her eyes rake over me with a mixture of surprise and something else.

“I must say, golden one, you’re full of surprises.”

“And you certainly know how to throw a party.”

“Of course.” Her gaze flicks between Adrian and me. “I must admit, I expected to see you with Julian, not his brother. Has the other brother bored you already?”

Adrian stiffens beside me at her words, but he remains silent, taking us in. This is the first time he’s seen us talking, but from our easy exchange, he can probably deduce this isn’t our first conversation.

Now he knows Julian didn’t invite me to the party, but Victoria did. Personally.

“Adrian was kind enough to give me a ride,” I counter coolly.

“Adrian.” Victoria’s plump lips stretch as she greets him.

“Victoria.”

Tension travels between us as their gazes remain locked on one another. I’m about to ask how long they’ve known each other, so I can learn more about their family ties, when Victoria breaks their silent duel.

“Well, I’m glad you made it regardless.” She looks back to me. Her eyes narrow as she takes in my appearance. “Although it seems you’ve come unprepared. You’re not wearing a mask.”

“Julian didn’t mention it.”

“Typical!” Victoria sighs dramatically before disappearing into another room. A moment later she returns with a golden mask and hands it to me. “Here, put this on. We wouldn’t want you to stand out too much.”

“Thanks.” I slip the mask over my face, while Adrian slips one out from his pocket, putting it on.

We wouldn’t want you to stand out too much—and yet she gave me a mask the color of my nickname.

I try to let the choice of mask wash over me.

We aren’t friends. I’m planning to bring her empire to the ground, to kill her, so Victoria picking a gold mask for me is nothing but childish spite in comparison.

“Go on then,” she says dismissively, gesturing around the room once our identity is hidden behind the masks. “Mingle, explore, do whatever it is you came here to do. I’ve got other guests to attend to.”

I watch her sashay away. Taking in a deep breath, I try to clear my mind.

I can’t afford to get too caught up in this event. It’s my alibi; I’m not here to sample the lascivious side of the Inferno Consortium.

Squaring my shoulders, I begin to weave my way through the crowd with one goal in mind: to gather as much information as needed, no matter what challenges lie ahead.

But first I need to get Adrian off my back.

We make our way further into the cabin. Red lights cast shadows of desire on the bodies of people as an alluring blend of scents fills the air. It’s a mixture of expensive perfume, sweat, and desire.

The first room we enter is filled with people writhing together on red cushioned mats, the loud beat of the music muffling their moans as they taste each other. Yet I can still make out their desires. The way their mouths form an “O,” or the marks on their skin from violently needing more.

My heart beats fast as I take them in. Until a solitary figure catches my attention.

A man wearing a badger mask stands there observing, but I can’t tell if it’s me he’s looking at or the bodies of the people between us. His stillness in such a charged room feels like chaos in contrast. My attention falls solely on him as unsettling shivers snake their way down my spine.

But it doesn’t last long—not with Adrian’s impatience evident in the way he grabs my arm and steers me forward.

The next room contains an arrangement of BDSM equipment, everything from whips and chains to intricate leather harnesses. A woman wearing nothing but thigh-high stockings is bound to a St. Andrew’s cross. A man in black pants and a green mask prowls around her, flogging her each time her panting starts to lessen.

Her face contorts in pure bliss.

“How’s our little saint feeling right now?” Adrian mocks, observing my reaction to the view in front of us. “Horrified enough? Want me to take you home?” There’s a hint of mockery in his tone.

My eyes zero in on the girl.

Each time the leather hits her skin, her mouth pulls in, choking on the pleasurable sensation of needing the pain to feel alive. Each whip is followed by a cry for more.

And more.

Her neck stretches skyward, eyes squeezed shut.

“Aurelia?”

I can’t seem to look elsewhere.

A barely noticeable breeze caresses my bare skin. My nipples harden into tight peaks as I feel her pleasure as my own.

One last whip and⁠—

“Are you even listening to me?”

The sound of Adrian’s voice filters in, but it’s his massive body blocking the girl that shatters whatever trance I was in.

“What?”

He shakes his head and goes to the next room. Without a second thought I follow him, my eyes trailing behind me at the girl being held by the flogger as he takes her someplace faraway.

My teeth sink into my lower lip as I try to shake the feeling sizzling through my body, burying the jealous sting of wanting to be her.

I follow Adrian into the next room and gasp.

A large circular bed is situated in the center of the room. Mirrors surround it on every wall, allowing the participants’ reflections to be watched from various angles.

“Exhibitionists,” Adrian says. “They get turned on by the knowledge they’re being watched. Something you hate, if I recall correctly. Since the craziest thing we ever did was reach first base in my car.”

And yet I’ve never felt anything like this before. Watching their raw display is awakening something within me, as if a hidden door to my desire has been thrown open.

Adrian’s right: I’ve never gone this far before. I’ve had sex before, but in the comfort of our bedrooms. Sex in public areas was off-limits. And in front of people? Wouldn’t even dare to consider it. But as I stand here, only allowed to watch, hunger consumes me. The reason I came is slowly being obscured by this need for more.

More touching.

More tasting.

More feeling.

I rush outside the room, hot to the touch as I brace my hands on my hips, the feeling of bare skin a reminder of how deep in this world I truly am right now. Physically, but emotionally too.

This party is overwhelming, stripping me bare layer by layer, each room a mirror of my hidden desires.

Adrian steps up next to me, his eyes taking in my flushed state.

“Have you been to many of her parties before?” I dare to ask him. But I’m not daring enough to look at him as he answers.

“More than I can count.”

My next words scratch at the back of my parched throat. “And when we were dating?”

I already know the answer. We started dating when I was fifteen and he was nineteen. He may have attended Victoria’s parties before then, but there’s no doubt he came here all throughout his twenties too.

When he doesn’t answer I raise my gaze to his.

“Yes.”

I nod up at him. “Right.” I try to shake off the repulsion forming in the pit of my stomach. “We should find something to drink. Watching all that has made me thirsty.”

We move down the corridor, bypassing other rooms, each one hosting a variety of sexual activities. Bondage, role-playing, orgies—all catering to different fantasies.

I can feel Adrian close by, his words taunting our breakup and what little love he felt throughout our relationship. God, how pathetic am I to feel dirty at his expense?

The low buzz of the bass filters in as we part ways in the room. “I’ll go get us something to drink,” he says and leaves.

Deciding enough time has passed, I focus on what truly matters.

I need to be quick before he comes back with our drinks.

This new room looks lifeless compared to the others. It’s still packed with people, but where the other rooms provided the guests with something to use, this one sets them free with only their bodies. This feels a lot like the parties I attended with Eleanora: just drunk people doing what they do best.

I’m making my way deeper in when I feel a pair of eyes on me.

Searching for the source of my unease, I spot a guy watching me intently from across the room. His gaze is unwavering, almost predatory, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Yet I can’t help but stare back.

His dark hair falls messily over the silver mask he’s wearing. Ink adorns his whole chest, stretching to his arms. I can’t see his face, but the weight of his stare is impossible to ignore.

For a moment I consider approaching him, but I’ve wasted enough time already. Adrian will be back soon.

I try to ignore the nagging feeling of being watched and instead focus on talking with the guests until the right opportunity appears for me to sneak away and snoop around Victoria’s cabin, starting with her bedroom. I’d go now, but Adrian will be back soon. I need to do it at the right moment, and this isn’t it.

I attempt to engage in small talk, but my senses are overwhelmed by the shared lust tainting the atmosphere, making it hard for me to concentrate.

And I can’t shake the sense that the man’s piercing gaze means trouble.

Or how his eyes are still boring into me.

I scan the room, trying to find someplace where I won’t feel the weight of his intense gaze.

But without wanting to, my eyes fall on him again.

This time I notice the two skeletal snakes intertwining in the middle of his chest—and the hands of two barely dressed girls, both vying for his attention.

Yet he seems completely disinterested in their advances.

His focus is solely on me.

Who are you? And what do you want from me?

He’s intriguing yet annoying all at once. Can’t he just . . . I don’t know, have fun with those two deprived girls and leave me the hell alone?

He’s lounging on a plush couch, the two girls draped over him. Their hands roam his defined body as they whisper in his ear, giggling at whatever he tells them.

The overwhelming need to trace those intricate patterns with my fingertips devours me whole as we stare at one another. He’s wearing a silver mask, but his smoldering eyes are exposed enough for me to see.

Movement to his right catches my attention, and I see another guy sitting on a chair next to him, legs spread open, drink dangling from his hand. He’s dressed similarly, but with no tattoos etched onto his brown skin. His purple mask conceals his identity as well.

But there’s something about his posture and the way he observes the scene around him that reeks of familiarity.

I try to shake the feeling of unease his attention is giving me, but no matter which corner of the room I occupy, the tattooed man’s piercing stare is still there.

It’s unnerving.

Several minutes go by with me feeling like hunted prey, and irritation finally gets the better of me. I square my shoulders and cross the crowded room, clenching my hands so hard that half-moons become engraved on the skin.

I stop before the couch where he’s reclining, two girls under his arms.

“Can I help you?” The words slip from between my gritted teeth, my voice dripping with annoyance.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he takes his time, roaming his gaze up and down my body before finally meeting my eye again. The action alights something inside of me. It’s like a signal, as if I’m used to this person’s attention. No—as if I crave it.

The two black holes where his eyes are hold me captive, but something around his wrist makes my heart skip a beat. Not just anything. A unique black hair tie, with a black bead in the shape of a raven.

Sadness floods my senses, mingling with bitter anger.

“Julian?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I stare into the eyes of the man who once meant everything to me.

“Ah, so you recognize me,” he drawls, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Without thinking, I grab the drink from the other guy’s hand and throw it straight at Julian’s face. The liquid splashes across his skin, dampening his dark hair and causing the two girls to shriek in surprise.

And Julian simply chuckles.