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.

Its 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.

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 dragons 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.

Its 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 wasnt all a dream. Unless Im losing a grip on reality.Losing the ability to understand whats real and whats not.

Im 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.

“My name is Drake,” he replies coolly as he pushes a brown bag under my nose. “I brought you breakfast.”

I frown as my eyes flit from the bag back to his face.

Why is he trying to feed me?

And why is he acting like nothing happened?

“Why am I here?” I manage to ask as I lift my weight onto my elbows, moving myself further from him.

“Because its for your own good,” he replies. “Now, eat.”