Page 17 of Brutal Alpha Dragon

I glance back at the building, lifting my eyes to the floor where Lily’s bedroom stands next to mine. All I can see is the window, which I’d purposely shielded with a protective layer of film that would prevent the human from seeing the island. If I choose to, I can see beyond the walls if I wield my power of seeing.

Something I choose not to do.

“Don’t tell her what we are,” I warn my sister. “Not yet,” I add.

Turning back to the island, I stare out across the ocean bed. The setting sun casts an orange glow on the horizon, almost calling out to me. Beckoning me to immerse myself in the sanctity nature provides.

Even if it’s for a moment. Just so I don’t have to think about the responsibility that weighs me down. I seek to be free, where my wings can carry me into the sunset.

Chapter 8 - Lily

The mess I’d created was mine to clean up.

Not my circumstances, but the spilled oats on the side of the bed. Huffing a frustrated breath, I lift the brown bag and use a towel to wipe the floor.

If anything, I should be grateful that I’m not being held in some dreary dungeon without the privileges of this bedroom. Even if I cannot see beyond the window, the comfort of the bed is the only consolation I have.

As I clear up the floor, leaving it pristine again, I recall the man who’d brought breakfast for me. Though he’s my captor, I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s actually not that bad.

Perhaps it’s a trauma bond that has me feeling drawn to him. A simple gesture of bringing me food has me believing that there must be some good to the man. Even if I remain suspicious of him.

Though I can’t pinpoint why he’s so closely linked to the dragon I’d conjured up in my imagination. I know I’d been dreaming, but I can’t dismiss what felt very real.

An overactive imagination tends to distort any sense of reality. It’s something I’d been dealing with my whole life. The million-and-one books I’d read to feed that imagination is my detriment now. It leaves me feeling dizzy, head spinning as my sense of reality remains hazy and unfathomable.

“Oh, God…” I murmur as I get up on quivering knees. Now that I remember what my life was like before I arrived here, I can't help but feel a sense of deep longing.

Bracing one hand on the bedpost to steady myself, I’m startled when someone clears their throat behind me.

Snapping my head back, I’m surprised to find a woman in the room. She’s young and radiant, her green eyes sparkling with glee that doesn’t fit my situation.

Her short blonde curls bounce with that cheer as she carries a tray of plated food. The heavenly aroma wafts over me, filling my lungs and gripping my empty belly. The stranger smiles at me, pausing on the opposite side of the bed.

“Hi, Lily,” she greets warmly.

Instead of replying, I frown at the young woman. There’s a sense of warmth that radiates from her presence. A warmth that I shouldn’t be feeling as a prisoner here.

“How do you know my name?” I question suspiciously, remaining where I am as if the bedpost will provide me some protection. But I’m disarmed when her heart-shaped lips form a smile that reminds me of my sister's smile.

Violet…

When the image of her face becomes painted in my mind, my eyes become teary. The longing for my life squeezes my heart, dark talons gripping it painfully.

“Oh, honey…” the woman cajoles, and she's at my side instantly. A gentle hand is on my shoulder, offering me comfort from the most unexpected place.

The floodgates open up again as I'm wrapped by arms of comfort. The brave face I'd put on for Drake was just that—a mask. Now, the walls of protection come crumbling down as I allow myself to weep.

“It's okay… It's okay…” the woman encourages as she holds me in her embrace. I've only just met her, but her warmth feels an awful lot like Violet's. Throwing caution to the wind, I bask in that comfort until my tears finally stop.

“Wh-who are you?” I sniff as I step back. Staring into the woman's eyes, I find only sympathy in the benign depths.

The woman takes a step back, a wide grin on her face. “My name is Kairo,” she announces before quickly bowing. When she straightens up, there's a flicker of mischief in her eyes. It's something I can't make sense of.

But then again, nothing about this makes any sense.

“Kairo…” I mull over her name, my chest filling with a sense of familiarity. Having just met her, I can't determine why I feel this way.

Perhaps it's because she's a female. And I feel safer in her presence.

---