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With the anxiousness riding through me to escape before I lose myself entirely, I can’t help but question if he’s truly asleep. If it’s that easy for a beast like him to simply give in to the night. The voice at the back of my mind begs me to be patient and not rash…or else. So I lie as still as I can, fighting the deep need to close my eyes. I try to remember the route we took to get here, to his room. But all I remember is screaming and kicking against him. When the escape plan devolves into nothing more than “run,” I stare at his gentle sleeping form. My gaze travels down his sharp jaw to the dip in his throat and I wonder why he wants me. He could do this to anyone…why me?
He said he wants to heal me. But he already has. The pain has vanished.
I don't need anyone to help me. As a breeze bangs gently against the glass, my gaze flicks up to the iron paned windows. We’re far too high up for me to escape. Thinking of leaving him, of being anywhere without him, sends a painful bolt through my chest. It’s yet again another sign that I’m not well and not myself. I’ve never felt attached to anyone. Certainly he’s using me as a play thing and manipulating me in order to make it easier for him. I could never love a man like that.
I realize I'm nodding my head at my thoughts and my eyes dart to Drago's. His chest rises and falls. I watch as my breath gently moves the hair on his chest. My fingers itch to run through the thin line of his happy trail. The covers are just barely at the dip of his hips. That sharp v makes my mouth water. I clench my thighs and shut my eyes tightly, hating the pull he has over me.
As carefully and quietly as I can, I gently lift my body off his. All the while I watch him. He's still. Asleep like the dead. With just the sight of him controlling me, the memory of his flames moves my fingertips to my neck. The feel of him is like nothing I’ve ever known. It’s a drug, a spell…it’s something deadly.
Moving as slowly as I can and wincing with every noise the mattress makes, I lift the covers and scoot off the bed. The chill in the room makes me extremely aware of my lack of dress. I can't very well sneak out of here naked. I bite my lip and look around the room for the shirt he gave me.
I get on my knees and search for it on the floor. It doesn't take long to find it and slip it on. As the soft scent of him wafts over me once more, a small smile plays at my lips, at least I'll have that to keep. There are no undergarments though. I fix the sleeves and decide this will do for now. With every small step to my escape there’s a slight groan of the ancient wooden floor. Each time I peer back, the longing for him only intensifies. As if my very soul rages war against me for leaving him. I remind myself that all spells can be broken and perhaps space will aid me in that endeavor.
His door is locked with the key still sticking in the keyhole. I unlock it slowly and wince when the click that I've never fucking heard is the loudest fucking sound ever. My shoulders hunch and my breath comes to a halt.
I expect to hear something, but after a moment I take a peek over my shoulder. Drago is still sound asleep.
I let out the breath and gently open the door. It's relatively quiet, but I do it slowly to make sure the sound is at a minimum. Once it's open, I place the key on the little wooden table by the door and sneak out. I almost look back, but I'm afraid if I do, I won't have the courage to leave. As soon as I'm past, I gently shut the door, but I don't close it all the way. I don't want the sound to wake him.
As I take a few quiet steps into the hall, with only the sound of my bare feet smacking against the cold floor to accompany me, I realize I'm not even sure if I ever thanked him for healing me and for the meal I so desperately needed. With every step I feel more ungrateful and sorrowful. I shake my head at the thought and continue walking...this is not the thinking of a woman who is going to survive this. I focus on where the hell I am so I can figure out where I’m going. The walls and floor of the long hall are made of beautiful white and black swirled marble. Torches are lit along one wall, but most have gone out, leaving dark patches in my vision.Fear trickles into my blood as I pass through a section of darkness only to find a light shining through much brighter than the torches.
I hear the soft sound of women's voices as I approach a well-lit room. The door is cracked, causing it to send a stream of bright light onto the floor.
"Thank you so much." I hear a soft voice crack with gratitude. I think I recognize it, but I'm not sure.
"You really must stop thanking me." That voice, I'm certain, is Mrs. Adora’s.
"I don't know how, but I promise I'll learn." I listen to the soft voice as I hold my breath and dart across the door, hoping they don't see me.
"Yes you will, and I will help you along the way." Mrs. Adora answers her with confidence, and I breathe in relief. They didn't see me. I keep my pace slow as I continue moving. I don’t dare peek in for fear of being seen.
"I hope I learn fast enough. I don't want to make them angry."
"Oh hush dear, learning to cook is an art and takes time. And the Lords of the castle won't even notice. Everything will work out perfectly." Her voice fades as I move farther down the hall.
I concentrate ahead on a section that's still well-lit and look at the paintings on the wall. They’re massive and the colors are slightly faded as if they’ve been up for centuries. They must be of family. The brothers all look so much alike and so do all the men in the paintings. Most are of people, of shifters, but some are landscapes. One catches my eye as I get closer to it. There are three swirls, one green, one blue and the largest red. It looks as though it's been painted with fingers. The swirls blend together and are dusted with small ovals, like fingerprints almost. My eyes widen as I realize that's exactly what they are. I squint and look back at the beautiful works of art. They're intricate and stunning. And then this piece. Is it a child's finger painting?
"It was our mother's favorite." A deep voice startles me and makes me jump back as I turn around, put my hand over my heart, and stare wide-eyed at Drago. The pounding in my heart returns with a vengeance. My mouth parts in shock and no words dare to leave me. The man’s eyes flicker, and he tilts his head while asking, "Did Drago give you permission to wander?"
Fear grips every inch of me and chills travel down my arm. I swallow and think about lying to him. But I'm a shit liar. His brow cocks as he waits for my answer and all I can do is I shake my head no.
He chuckles and says, "I didn't think so." He looks down the hall and lets out a sigh that’s far too casual. "Do you really think it's wise to upset your Master?" His brow raises in question and anger seeps into the heart of who I am. No one is my master. I would rather die. I take a hesitant step toward him and gather my courage to tell him exactly that. I raise a finger, although as soon as I do, I instantly regret the move. Drago's brother, I'm guessing Galen, stands tall with his shoulders squared, daring me to speak with disrespect. I consider biting my tongue, but then I'm not given the choice.
The shifter takes in a heavy breath and his eyes flash reptilian and blue, his beast. It startles me and I instantly take a step back. He steps forward with a hastened need as something changes in his expression that I cannot place, and he presses his body against me taking a heavy inhale of my neck. I stare up with fear as he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. He looks crazed as his breath comes in ragged intakes. "Your smell." He says the words like a prayer. Fear collapses my lungs. My chest hurts and my legs go out from under me. I've never felt so vulnerable in my life. The need to fight is dimmed, but a different kind of agony grows. Regret for leaving the safety of Drago’s bedroom.
Before I can process anything, his eyes widen, as if realizing what he's done and knowing how scared I am. I’m barely able to notice it but before he has a chance to back away and apologize, a loud snarl echoes down the hall. I turn to my right, down the way I came, and red eyes are the only thing I can see from the darkness. I can barely swallow, let alone move. Fear paralyzes me.
Slowly the form of a dragon comes into view. Low piles of smoke breathe from his snout. Scales shine and seem to glow in the low light from the flickering torches. Heavy steps shake the floor as he approaches, stalking toward us.
Drago. Something inside me knows it’s him.
His brother releases his grip on me, looking between the two of us. I close my eyes and feel caught between the two of them. When I open them, his brother is gone and Drago stands before me naked. Drago’s eyes look past me, on the shadow of his brother blending into the darkness. Drago's shoulders rise and fall, his fists clench so tightly, his knuckles are white. Fury radiates off him. An intense weight, heavy and painful, presses against my heart.
“Drago?” I whisper but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t look at me.
I take a step toward him and reach out a hand to him. "Drago?" He doesn't respond. He only continues to stare into the darkness. I drop my hand and look down the hallway to see nothing. When I look back at him, his eyes are on me. His gaze intense and the low light from the fire emphasizes the hard lines of his jaw and high cheek bones. His eyes blaze red.
I gasp and take a step back, but my back meets the hard castle wall.
