Chapter 4 - Olivia

Smacking the screen of my cell phone proves fruitless. It’s not like I can bully the device into working, so I frustratedly fling it to the corner of the bed and watch as it slips down and lands on the plush carpet.

Of course, my captor ensured I didn’t get any signal here. That’s why he didn’t bother checking for any cellular devices on me. For a hot moment, I thought his mistake would work in my favor until I found that my cell phone didn’t work in this place.

I blow a frustrated breath through puckered lips, sitting cross-legged on the comfortable bed. At least I could catch a little bit of shut-eye for the night, hoping that my circumstances would change by the morning.

When I woke up, to my disappointment, I found that I was still locked in the luxurious room fit for royalty, with the doors locked to keep me a prisoner here.

Just who does he think he is? I internally grouch, crossing my arms over my chest and wondering where the hell I am. The man who brought me here remains a mystery, too. Perhaps he’s a brave citizen who saw a kidnapping taking place and thought he was doing the honorary thing by stepping in to save me.

Only to prove that he’s just as bad as the bad guys, locking me away in a fancy bedroom for my own safety.

He has no idea how wrong he is… I can’t wait to get out of here and tell the bureau about this. My superiors will have a good laugh while I figure out a way forward with Luca’s case.

Great!

Thanks to my mystery savior, I’m at least three steps back in my investigation.

I’m about to defeatedly throw myself back between the pillows when metallic clicks behind the bedroom door alert me. Waiting with bated breath for the man’s return, I stare at the door, ready to pounce forward with my feet on the floor. He won’t see it coming; it might be my only escape.

Except, the door barely opens, the man’s arm slipping in quickly to slide a plate on the antique pedestal on the side. I’m not even halfway across the bedroom when the door is locked again.

Muttering a string of curses under my breath, I stroll forward slowly to inspect the offerings he’s left behind. It’s been hours since my arrival, almost twenty-four, and it’s the first time he’s given me something to eat. My belly rumbles with recognition since the snack bar from my handbag this morning barely tickled my appetite.

At least he’s proven that he’s not completely inhumane, I decide as I pick up the plate filled with desserts. Is this his way of sweetening my disposition? I scoff, lifting the fork when an idea lights up in my head like a lightbulb.

A smirk grows on my lips as I crouch by the door and fold three metal teeth of the fork inwards. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about it before, but now that I have a tool, I can pick the lock and escape.

Biting my bottom lip as I concentrate, I twist and turn the single tooth of the fork, gasping when the lock clicks and releases the handle. Adrenaline pulses through me as I try the handle, and it opens the door this time.

A few inhales and exhales calm me enough to run over to the nightstand, grab my handbag, and rush back to the opened door. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep my footsteps steady to tiptoe out of the bedroom and into a corridor lit by grand overhead chandeliers.

Padding down the corridor is like walking through a Middle Eastern passage, traveling through a moment in history thanks to the vivid colors and patterns all around. There isn’t much time to soak it all in – not when I’m on a mission to get out of this strange place.

The crackling of fireworks outside stops me in my tracks as my heart skips a tense beat. The pause allows me to catch the flickering light escaping a door up ahead, so I tiptoe to the end of the hall until I find the parted door.

It opens up to another fragment of time, back when television screens were black and white. The only colors are the ones lighting up the sky, so I steal closer to the balcony of the black and white bedroom, finding the door unlocked. I’m able to slide the glass door open, step onto a varnished wood platform, and see my surroundings for the first time.

A gasp escapes me when I’m able to see the sight ahead. The view from up here opens to what appears to be a tropical island, with palm trees spread out in front of the clearest beach sand with a backdrop of crystal clear waters.

Whatever this place is, it’s nowhere near Las Vegas, that’s for sure. There isn’t an island as gorgeous as this near Nevada.

Frowning as a million questions race through my mind, the soft glow of the sun’s light is snatched when a dark figure appears in the sky. Another gasp escapes me, but this time, it’s tinged with a hint of fear and looming dread.

With giant wings spread out on either side, a sharp, pointed face stares at me with slitted green eyes. Its large, scaled body tapers into a tail that floats behind it as it flies closer.

It can’t be…

The shape of the figure can only be described as a dragon. A mythical feature portrayed in many fantasy tales depicted almost exactly like the creature flying toward me. I’ve seen enough pictures on fantastical book covers and watched enough fantasy movies to tell what this is. The creature bares its teeth as it nears me, sending out a puff of fire that doesn’t scorch its face. It emerges through the flame, soaring forward and stretching out webbed feet toward the balcony.

I’m too stunned to move, frozen on the spot as it lands on the balcony rails. The creature is huge, looming over me as it wheezes through its muzzle.

What happens next happens so quickly that I almost miss it. I barely blink when the creature morphs into the shape of a man. Not just any man, but the one who captured me. He hops from the rails and lands effortlessly on his feet, eyes narrowed at me.

“What are you doing here?!” he demands, stepping forward. Internally, I want to run, having witnessed the most unbelievable thing happen right before my eyes.

The only trouble is that I can’t move. Not even when the man takes another menacing step forward and grabs my arms.

I squeak with surprise at how brandishing his hot hands are. “What are you–”

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head firmly, lifting me off my feet as if I’m as light as a feather and carrying me into the room. “You don’t get to answer my question with another question.”

His commanding voice has me pursing my lips as if I’m a child who just did something bad. Too shocked from learning that he’s a dragon who also morphs into the most beautiful human man I’ve ever laid eyes on, I become limp in his firm grip. He just moves me around like a rag doll, throwing me onto the black satin bed and grabbing a fistful of the white organza around the bedpost.

I should be fighting back, but I can’t. I’m too mesmerized by the shocking truth, inebriated by the heady scent of musk that permeates around the air as if it’s his aura. Still reeling from the shock, the man deftly binds my hands to the bedpost using the organza.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he sighs heavily as he takes a step back and crosses bulging arms across his chest.

“L-let me go…” It’s hardly a command, more like a plea when the words leave my lips. I shake my head to snap out of my daze, taking a deep breath when reality finally hits me.

The man is a shape-shifter, one that can turn into a dragon. It’s impossible to believe, but I saw it with my own eyes. I know I’m not crazy. If I were, I wouldn’t be fit to work as an FBI agent.

One thing is for sure. It wasn’t a jet-pack, after all…

“I can’t do that,” the man says, running a hand through his silky blonde hair and blowing out a breath. “Now that you know what I am—”

“What are you?”

The man lifts his eyes to mine, staring at me through the veil of his light lashes. “I am a dragon shifter.”

“Dragon shifter…” I repeat, confirming that he at least doesn’t shape-shift into other strange creatures. “We’re not in America, are we?”

He shakes his head. “We’re on a remote island, and–” He presses his lips together as if he’s said too much, shoulders tensing underneath a crisp white shirt. “It doesn’t matter,” he says matter-of-factly. “I just can’t have you running around as if you’re supposed to be here.”

“So I’m not supposed to be here?” I frown.

The man drops his face into a palm as if he’s wrestling with himself. “No. You’re not supposed to be here. It’s because my inner dragon forced me to save you…”

“You weren’t saving me…” I remind him.

He looks up with a deep frown, raising a questioning hand in the air. “I literally saved you from being kidnapped last night.”

“You’re still not listening,” I sigh, dropping my head defeatedly. “I am an FBI agent working undercover to catch an arms dealer. The kidnapping was staged by my department for a reason.”

The man’s frown deepens. “Then why does my dragon warn me that you’re not safe…?” he asks, but it’s more a question he seems to be asking himself.

“Look, I don’t care about your dragon or whatever is going on,” I assure him. “I need to go back to the investigation you interrupted and salvage my case before it’s too late.”

He lifts his head and stares deadpan in my eyes. “That’s not possible.”

“Are you even listening to me?” I exclaim, this time fighting against my restraints. This psychotic dragon shifter is certifiably the bane of my existence. I have to get out before I become his meal or something. “I have to get back to my job. My life! You can’t keep me a prisoner here!”

“Keep your voice down!” he commands with a finger on his lips, and it gives me another idea.

Instead of wrestling against the binds, I open my mouth and scream as loud as I possibly can.

“Help me!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “Get me out of here!”

In a flash, the man is in front of me, tearing another piece of organza from the bedpost and quickly wrapping it around my mouth. Gagged, my voice is muffled against the fabric. But I still try screaming even when he steps back and throws me a devilish grin.

“No one’s gonna hear you,” he taunts, going to the balcony and sliding the door shut. When he turns back to face me, he’s not nearly as bemused as he was a few seconds ago.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is for me,” he grates through gritted teeth as he marches forward. He grabs a fistful of the black satin sheet and yanks it out from under me. “I need to sleep,” he informs me angrily, nostrils flaring as he utters each word. “You’re gonna do the same and not give me any trouble while you’re here. I need to figure out why my dragon is restless because of you. It’s far more important than whatever you’ve got going on in the mortal world!”

With that, the man turns on his heels and marches to the bedroom door, locks it, then marches to the corner of the bedroom. He flops down on a sofa and shuts his eyes with an audible huff.

Did he just say mortal world?

Does that mean we’re not even on Earth?

A shiver passes through me as a world of endless possibilities makes me question everything I know. At this point, does catching Luca Mancini even matter when the world as I knew it isn’t as black and white as I thought it was?