Page 12 of Brutal Alpha Dragon

“Help me!” she begs, her voice a desperate cry. “Please! You have to help me!”

Chapter 6 - Lily

Panicking, I try the handle again, only to confirm that the door is locked. Dread fills my chest, quickening my heartbeat. It’s already the next day, and I have no idea where I am.

Slowly turning back to the bedroom, I scan my surroundings for any pointers about my whereabouts. I’ve never seen this place before. Not even in my dreams.

The thought hauls me to last night’s dream…

It couldn’t have been a dream after all. Not when I find myself in a strange bedroom.

This one has a high ceiling, with a grand Victorian chandelier hanging from the center. The oval bed is secured by Greek-style pillars, from where white organza cascades like a veil from above. The wall across the bed has an open-hearth fireplace made of stone.

It’s like I’ve walked through time, a century or two ago. The time of the Roman Empire, or the Hellenistic Age from history books. With a touch of bright color, like the burgundy walls adorned with gold decorations.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I begin walking around the room. Skimming the walls with my fingertips and tracing the spines of the books on the bookshelf next to the window.

It's not all that bad. The chaise lounge beneath the window is inviting, calling me to pick a book and lie there. Instead, in my current turmoil, I climb the couch and try peeking through the blinds.

The early morning sun is blinding. So penetrating that I can’t see further than its rays. Feeling defeated, I sit on my heels and sigh.

The luxurious embrace of my surroundings does little to lift my spirits. The fact that I’m locked in this bedroom, in God-knows-where, is troubling. My trepidation catches in my throat, forming a lump of worry that’s hard to swallow like the toughest pill.

Dragging my feet around the rest of the room, there isn’t much left to inspect. I’ve assumed that heavy ornaments are made from real gold. That’s why something as simple as a palm-sized compass weighs at least a pound.

But the room full of gold isn’t as tempting as I thought it might be. All because of the locked door. And being unaware of where I am exactly.

I can’t rely much on my dreams, especially the one from last night. As I step into the shower, I close my eyes and try recalling that dream.

I remember a dragon.

One that spoke to me without opening its mouth.

“Pffft!” I brush the absurd thought aside as I throw my head back to allow the spray to run down my face. Perhaps, subconsciously, I made up the dragon in my head to lessen the blow of being kidnapped. To hide the trauma, even though I barely feel like the experience was traumatic.

When I’m done in the shower, I go back to the bedroom, half-expecting to find my kidnapper there. But it’s empty, just like my tummy when it rumbles and reminds me that I haven’t had breakfast yet.

I find a silk gown in the wardrobe, amongst other lavish clothing, that somehow is my size. It’s either a coincidence or my abductor had been planning this well.

Either way, I dress into the gown and pull myself back to the bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I let the tears spill from my eyes.

It finally hits me then. I’d been kidnapped. I have no way of contacting someone for help. And no way to escape this place. My fingers begin to tingle, my head becomes light. As my weeping makes it harder to breathe, everything fades to black.

The sound of the door being unlocked is what disrupts my sleep. Unlike the hinges back in Redmond, the ones on the bedroom door are smooth. I only wake fully when I hear the gentle thud of the door as it closes. I see a silhouette of a man with his back facing me. So I keep my eyes closed as he walks up to the bed.

Something about his presence makes my heart pound. I feel his every step as he comes closer, until I feel the warmth of his breath in the air near me. A breath that feels awfully familiar, the scent of mint and masculinity mingled.

The familiarity of it is alarming. I can’t place it anywhere, yet I feel like I’ve been immersed in it before. Panicking, I open my eyes quickly. That’s when I see the face I’ve seen a million times.

The face of the man from the bar. It’s the only time I’ve seen that face in real life. But I’d seen that face too many times in my dreams not to recognize it.

Perhaps he comes as a lifeline. Even if I’m dreaming, it’s the semblance of hope I have to hang onto. Thinking no further than escaping this prison, I only see him as my savior.

Springing to my feet, I grab his sweater. Frail fists pound at his chest as I plead, “Help me, please! You have to help me!”

The man’s mysteriously dark eyes narrow at me. Mesmerizing in their enigmatic beauty, I momentarily lose the ability to breathe.

Up close, he’s everything I could have imagined. His deep-set eyes are dark and mystifying, beckoning me into the spiral of his soul’s dance. His shoulders are broad, biceps pulling taut against the navy sweatshirt.

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