Chapter 11 - Stryder

“Will you watch Olivia for me today?” I ask my twin as I stick my head through the study door.

He looks up from his book, brows furrowing as he narrows his eyes skeptically. “Why?”

“I’m er–” I step into the study, holding the door closed behind me as if what I’m about to say is the biggest secret of my life.

I mean, it is. But Stryker doesn’t have to know that.

“I wanna check what’s going on with Olivia’s mortal life. You know, with the FBI department and everything,” I lie.

Stryker buys the lie, a smile growing on his face. “Ah! How thoughtful of you, Brother. Does she know about this?”

“Nope,” I shake my head. “I just wanna make sure her disappearance isn’t such a knock to her friends back in the mortal world. I’ll tell her about it afterward.”

“Oh…. Like a surprise?” Stryker jests eagerly.

“Yeah…” I shrug. “Something like that.”

“Leave it to me, Brother,” he assures me as he sets his book on the table and rises. “I’ll take good care of her while you’re gone.”

“Don’t be too imposing, Stryker,” I warn him with a lighthearted chuckle. “She’ll probably lecture you about not needing a babysitter.”

I frown deeply as I leave the study. Since when do I know Olivia so personally, so intimately, that I’d know how she would react? Brushing the thought aside, I head out of the castle, flashing into my dragon form before escaping the island.

I need the fresh air of recklessness and pollution provided by the mortal world. After Olivia fled from my useless attempt at making dinner, I could barely get any sleep. Even now, my dragon’s vision is clouded; that’s why I’m armed with enough dragonclaw to inebriate a group of dragon-shifter males.

I need the distraction, to soothe my wounded ego and not think about my human mate for the day. At least Los Angeles is shrouded by the darkness of the night, allowing me to shift in an alley and pick up where I left off the other night.

The bar is just beside Olivia’s apartment building. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to bump into the women who were there the other night and get lucky between the sheets of some expensive hotel down the street.

Flaunting my wealth around here will soothe the part of me that failed to impress Olivia with the great treasures of Aurora Island. I shudder at the recollection of her disinterest, entering the bar and losing myself to the soft beats of jazz.

“Whiskey on the rocks, please,” I order at the bar. The bartender nods and heads to his station, leaving me to look around at my prospects. That’s when I spot a beautiful chocolate-haired woman down the bar. She sees me and quickly averts her eyes back to her blonde friend before stretching out a tanned, toned arm for her martini on the counter.

Her brown eyes flit over to me in intervals of ten seconds, almost as if she’s counting in her head. That’s a good sign for me – it means I have her attention exactly where it needs to be.

Smirking, I return to the bar just as the bartender passes my drink. I discreetly sprinkle the crushed herb into the glass when no one’s looking, then take a huge sip of my drink.

As the liquor mixed with the only plant known to intoxicate dragon shifters burns my throat on its way down, I will my courage forward while staring at the half-empty glass.

I’m not there yet – not where I need to be mentally. If I was, I would have considered the glass half-full.

I gulp down the rest and take a deep breath to aid its expedition into my tummy. My temples start getting tingly, and I know that the effects of the dragonclaw have already begun.

I’m good to go.

With my spine ramrod straight, I slide down the bar toward the two women. As I near them, the brunette in particular, our eyes meet, and it’s like I’ve just been struck by lightning.

Frozen on the spot, I blink my eyes to get rid of the hallucination. The woman’s eyes turn from blues back to browns, permitting a sigh of relief to escape my chest.

Perhaps I’d ingested too much dragonclaw, I decide as I compose myself. That’s the only reason I saw Olivia’s eyes in the woman seated at the bar. There’s no other reasonable explanation.

A shiver passes through me as I release the need to hang onto the strange image, and I finally approach the woman. Once we begin speaking, I’m back to being my charming self. It only takes a few sterling exchanges to have her join me for a drink before we leave the bar together.

I flag down a cab on the curbside while the brunette hangs onto my arm as if I’m the one keeping her steady. I don’t mind it, since her legs will be hanging on my shoulders tonight. With that thought, I lean closer and whisper in her ear, “We’re gonna have so much fun tonight…” before pulling back to gauge her reaction.

“Gah!” I exclaim, instinctively pulling my arm back when the woman morphs into Olivia, like a shape-shifter, but one that shifts from a brunette to a redhead.

“What’s the matter, handsome?” Olivia says, her distinctly firm but feminine voice ringing in my ears.

Shaking my head like I’ve seen a ghost, I start backing away. “Leave me alone!” I demand, raising a hand to stop her from following me. Panicking, I quickly turn and run ahead, finding shelter in a quiet building, safely away from Olivia.

Lugging in deep breaths, I start calming down enough to realize that I’m just hallucinating again. Bracing my hands on my knees, I steady my breathing until I can straighten up and get my mind back together.

Only to realize I’d rushed into Olivia’s apartment building, of all places.

I gulp as if I’d just been caught red-handed doing something I shouldn’t be doing. There’s no way Olivia is really here, in Los Angeles. She’s on the island, in the castle. I know, because I checked on her before I left, and she’s been asleep on my bed.

“Fuck…” I mumble under my breath, carding my fingers through my hair.

It's no coincidence that I'm here, standing in her apartment building after being haunted by her image, seeing her face in the woman I was planning on distracting myself with. Just like it was no coincidence that I found her in trouble that night.

Olivia Jackson is a challenge I have to win. She might not be interested in what I have to offer – not me or the island's beauties.

Perhaps there's something I'm missing, I think as I close my eyes and take a moment to think. That's when Olivia's apartment number flashes to mind, printed on the paper Stryker had with him the day we set out to find her.

Apartment twenty-two… I take the flight of stairs that lead me to the second floor, where I find her apartment. I have to pick her lock to get inside – a nifty trick we somehow both know about. Once inside, I take a look around to soak in the smell of paint and pinewood.

Her apartment is rather ordinary, but most of her trimmings and decor are black and white. It makes sense that she'd chosen to stay in my bedroom. A shiver runs through me when I think – maybe Olivia and I are much more alike than either of us is willing to admit.

I follow the smell of paint to a canvas stand beside her living room window. Frowning as I step over a crescent of cushions on the rug, I reach for the white sheet draped over the canvas. Once I tug it away, I gasp in awe of the painting before me.

It's identical to the view from her window, only a few city lights missing color. With intricate details and swift strokes of a paintbrush, the painting is marvelous.

I had no idea she painted. In hindsight, I don't know much about the woman except that she isn't a sucker for me.

Blowing out a breath, I gather all of Olivia's painting equipment in the wooden box and take it back with me. If there's one thing I'm sure of, women love simple gestures.

If this is what it takes to get into her bed, I'm willing to do it. I can't have her haunting me like this because she's the one quest I can't seem to conquer.

Armed with Olivia's painting tools, I shift into dragon form and wield the power of invisibility to carry me out of the mortal world. The cool air seems to calm my dragon, soothing its heated resolve as we enter the island's hemisphere.

When I penetrate the dome covering Aurora Island to keep us hidden from the outside world, my dragon instantly becomes alert. My scales tingle, my ears perking up and causing me to halt in the air to check for any signs of danger.

From my left periphery, I spot Olivia on the top of Mount Aurora, stepping dangerously close to the edge when a rock crumbles beneath her weight. A gasp falls from my dragon lips, my wings flapping to propel me forward swiftly. There's ringing in my eardrums, panic rushing through me just as Olivia slips off the edge of the mountain, her arms flying up in the air.

Her screeching yelp is all I can hear as I fly forward, swiftly catching her in one arm as I fling the painting toolkit on the mountain and wrapping her in my embrace. My dragon whimpers as I glare into her solemn eyes.

Her face is even paler than its usual shade of white, her round, blue eyes wide with the horror of the accident. I should be relieved that I arrived on time to catch her from falling.

But it's anger I feel pulsing through me as I carry her toward the thirteenth floor of the castle. I set her on her feet on the balcony, less concerned about how gentle I am in my fury. I shift into human form, towering over her as she trembles.

“What the fuck were you doing, Olivia?” I roar angrily. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“I-I–” she stammers, gulping fearfully on her words.

All I see is red… Red, hot anger flashes before my eyes. She could have fallen to her death if I didn't get to her in time.

“Answer me, dammit!” I grab her shoulders, wanting to shake the answer out of her but noticing how rabidly she's already shaking. Glaring ferociously into her eyes, I see the fear in her eyes, my reflection showing me the same fear.

“I–It was a mistake,” she whispers timidly, and again, I'm faced with the realization that this woman isn't as fearless as she makes herself out to be.

“You could have died… ” I grate through gritted teeth, and she shudders.

Olivia bats her eyelids at me. “What difference would it make?”

Those challenging words are my undoing. There's no need to be chivalrous anymore. Not with a question like that.

Does she not realize that my dragon wouldn't survive her death? Not when I'd specifically brought her to the island to protect her.

“What difference?” I ask, taking a closer step and closing the distance between us. She stares up at me, her face so close that I can smell the scent of her strawberry lip balm. It's disarming, to let my next words slip out without thought.

“It would make all the difference in the world. I could never live with myself if anything happened to you.”

The moment of thoughtlessness spreads through the next few seconds as I lean in and crush my lips to hers. Desperately needing to assure myself that she's still alive. My dragon needs the reassurance.