Page 13 of Brutal Alpha Dragon

Then there’s his lips, plump and cherry against the olive perfection of his skin. His dark, silky hair leaves my imagination running wild as I picture slipping my fingers through.

He’s as real as the heat permeating from his strong hands as his fingers wind around my wrists. The extraordinary heat scorches my flesh as he removes my hands from his sweater.

The man from my dreams. And from the bar the other night.

Is it possible that he’d kidnapped me?

The color drains from my face as the horrifying possibility comes to light. The handsome devil himself stands before me. Everything I could have imagined visually.

But a monster who had kidnapped me.

Stumbling back when he releases my wrists, my rear hits the bed.

“Wh-why?” I stammer. It’s not so much a question for him but one for the higher power playing this prank on me. Why else would the man of my dreams, who shared the most explicit intimacy with me, be the one to abduct me? To keep me prisoner in this luxurious room of fine silks and gold?

The man is devilishly handsome; it pains me to think he’s the bad guy. As he crosses his arms and smirks down at me, I’m ready to throw myself at him.

“Why?” he raises a brow as his lips remain in a smirk. “Why are you here? Why am I here? Is that what you want to know?”

I shrug, his voice keeping me momentarily frozen. The deep, baritone sound is enough to ignite arousal inside me. Perhaps the element of danger adds to the allure. It frightens me that I could be drawn to something as vicious as my kidnapper.

If that’s what he is. His mere presence has me questioning everything right now. Especially my sanity.

If this is a dream, at least I can fantasize about getting free.

“I—I—” I begin, but I can’t get the words out. “What are you?” I finally ask.

All he does is scoff as he unfolds his arms. He looks me dead in the eye, his lips unmoving when he says, “What I am doesn’t matter.”

His voice is only in my mind. I’m sure of it. I know his lips didn’t move at all. And the voice is distinct in my head.

It’s identical to the dragon's voice that flew me through the air. That attempted to shield my vision with its webbed wing of gold.

It doesn’t make any sense.

“H-how?” I husk as I stare at the man in disbelief. That’s just the thing—he’s just a man.

Getting to my feet, my knees quiver as panic rises inside me. My fingers tingle as dizziness sets in.

It’s not possible. It can’t be.

I only made the dragon up to hide the traumatic experience.

This man can’t be it. He just can’t be the dragon. Dragons don’t exist in my world.

It's the last thought I have when I black out.

***

And the first thought on my mind when I open my eyes again.

To my horror, it wasn't all a dream. Unless I'm losing a grip on reality.Losing the ability to understand what's real and what's not.

I'm on the bed again, and the mysterious man is seated on the edge. He stares at me blankly, as if waiting for my initial reaction.

I give him none.

“Who are you?” I ask blankly. Though my heart is pounding in my chest, threatening to beat out of my ribcage, I maintain a straight face. Whoever he is, whatever he is, I will not show fear.

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