Page 19 of Brutal Alpha Dragon

Kairo gasps, her fork in midair. Realization seems to dawn on her. Covering her like an invisible aura of regret. She drops her head in what can only be discerned as shame. “Draco,” she confirms with a heavy-hearted sigh. “That’s his real name.”

“Why does he have an alias?” I ask with a frown. I can’t understand why she keeps her head hanging. As if his real name was something of a secret.

“Because…” Kairo shrugs nonchalantly before lifting her head and smiling. “... He’s secretive like that.”

It’s not much of an explanation. And every time I’ve asked for one, I’m told that Drake can answer my questions.

Or Draco.

“Whatever,” I brush it off as I continue eating. “I guess he’ll explain it all, right?”

Kairo nods hesitantly as she shoves the fork between her lips. As I ponder the new discovery, the rest of our meal is shared in silence. Still, it doesn’t give me much in terms of a reason for being here. But I’ve learned that Kairo cannot give me more information.

“Good night, Lily,” she bids as she gathers the plates when we’re done with dessert.

“Good night, Kai,” I reply as I make my way to the bathroom. Kairo leaves, and I go through the motions of preparing for the night.

My nightly routine consists of things I couldn’t pay attention to back in the city. Like a face mask, scrub, essential oils to brighten my skin. Fine details of self-care I never had the luxury of fulfilling while busy with work or studies.

I’m about to climb into bed when I glance at the door. To my surprise, it doesn’t appear closed the way it always is. Frowning, I head over there to have a look.

To my utmost surprise, I find the door unlocked.

I lift a trembling hand to the handle, hesitating to pull it all the way open. Fear for what lies beyond that door runs through me as a shiver. But curiosity wins over as I pull it open.

I peep my head into the unknown, discovering a well-lit hallway of cream walls and gold trimmings. Golden chandeliers illuminate the long stretch into the astute hallway full of closed doors.

Gulping hard, I turn my head from left to right. The eerie quiet indicates I’m alone, telling me it’s safe enough to go out. Stepping over the threshold of the bedroom I’d been imprisoned in, I’m cautious not to make a sound.

Something about being outside of the four walls of my prison feels strange. Still, I’m adamant about getting the answers I can’t get from Kairo. Or Draco.

Padding onto the plush burgundy carpet with abstract patterns reminiscent of the many kaftans in the wardrobe, I take a deep breath. I walk down to the first door beside my bedroom and try the handle.

The door is unlocked, so I head inside. The bedroom is awfully similar to mine, except for the turquoise walls, silver trimmings, and decor. The scent that fills the space is familiar, too, and I realize why I recognize it.

Sandalwood and musk…

It’s the scent I’d been able to discern on Draco whenever he came into my bedroom.

This room belongs to him.

My interest is piqued when I look around and find the large wall-to-ceiling window across the room. A flowing gray curtain hangs from a railing on the ceiling, loosely covering the unbarred glass. Carefully closing the door behind me, I make my way to the window.

I pause for a moment to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I move the curtain enough to discover that the window is actually a sliding door. With tentative fingers, I pull the door to one side.

A cool breeze kisses my cheeks for the first time since I arrived. Relishing in the feeling of freedom it provides, I step out onto the balcony.

The navy sky is littered with luminous stars that seem to speak to me as I reach the railings. Placing both hands on the cold metal, I look ahead and realize that I’m at least fifteen floors up. The ground is far below—too far to escape to.

But what captures my attention is the screeching sounds from the left. I move all the way to the end of the rails, but cannot see further than the stone wall on the side.

I scan my surroundings as the screeching intensifies. It’s followed by a hissing sound that fills me with fear. Whatever it is, my curiosity overpowers that fear when I notice that the balcony floor extends as a ledge around the rounded wall.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper to myself as a form of encouragement as I climb over the metal bars. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I take a deep breath for composure. The billowing wind chills my bones as it blows through my hair. I hold on firmly to the rail behind me, gauging the narrow floor in front of me.

A thunderous roar rips through the air, knocking the wind out of me. My foot slips over the edge, but I catch myself just in time not to fall over. As afraid as I should be, I’m also fascinated by the noises I don’t recognize.

As the screeching continues to slice through the air, I carefully tread the narrow floor that winds around the pillar. Keeping my back pressed to the wall, my hands braced on the stones, I shuffle cautiously to the other side.

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