Chapter 10 - Camilla

“Stryker…?” I whisper between the deafening silence that follows the loud bang when he shuts the door behind him, mulling over the name he’d given. His real name.

The fumbling of keys on the other side prevents me from pathetically rushing forward to try the door. It’s pointless, and I’m not about to break my head trying to find a way out.

The dragon man made it quite clear that he believed he was protecting me by keeping me a prisoner in this lavish bedroom.

No matter how much I try to make sense of it, I know nothing good can come from my imprisonment on an island in the dragon man’s lair. But despite my better judgment, why does a pang of guilt grip my heart when I recall the look of disbelief in his eyes when I threw the steaming contents of the mug at his face?

All I achieved was to enrage him when all he was trying to do was explain why he thinks I’m safer here than back home.

I shudder as a shiver passes through me, dismissing my doubts and those unwarranted feelings of attraction toward my captor.

He kidnapped me and locked me in his lair. His good looks aren’t sufficient to make up for the horror I’m facing right now.

Alone and scared, I sink to the bed and stare blankly at the tray of food when a rumble in my belly reminds me that I haven’t eaten all day.

“He’s wrong,” I scoff to myself as I pick up the glossy red apple from the tray. I don’t have a death wish. The only reason I threatened to jump off the balcony was my feeble attempt to scare him into taking me back home.

No one wants a cold meal; I think sarcastically as I set the tray on my lap. Since I don’t actually have a death wish, there’s no point in starving myself.

Sighing with a heavy heart, I dig into the rich meal of meat and vegetables, stuffing my mouth with rigorous force that emanates from the anger building inside.

I was out of my mind to think that a man as strikingly handsome as Sterling—

Correction.

Stryker.

What was I thinking when I first saw the man? That he’d be genuinely interested in a relationship with someone like me?

Scoffing, I nearly choke on the mouthful of chewed potatoes as it slips down my throat absentmindedly. When I’ve succeeded in stopping my spluttering thanks to the orange juice he provided, I frown at the door as I mull over his name again.

He doesn’t look like a “Stryker,” even if he’s strikingly good-looking with his ethereal beauty and timelessly sharp features. He looked like a “Sterling”, a man with a name as brandishing as his appearance.

“Stryker” implies that he’s soft at heart and gentle in nature. As a shiver passes through me, I can only discern that there’s more than meets the eye of the dragon-slash-man.

He probably thrives on his ability to trick his victims with his charm. A master manipulator, who executes his grand scheme as if it’s a romance that sprung out from the best television series.

I knew it would do me no good binging as many of those blasted shows as I did. I mean, what else did I have to look forward to until he appeared in my life and turned my entire world upside down?

It’s more thrill than I’ve had in my life, but the thought of being confined to this bedroom until I’m ripe enough to be eaten isn’t something I look forward to. Apart from the fears crippling my belly and making it impossible to take another bite of food, it’s anger that seethe in my being and has me pushing the plate away to get to my feet.

Anger at myself, I realize regretfully. The dragon man tricked me into believing that the insecurities I spent my entire life wallowing in weren’t real. For a hot moment, he had me thinking that I was worthy enough to grab the attention of someone as gorgeous as him.

It was all a part of his ploy to get me to trust him, just so that I’d end up here, locked away like a misfitted princess who’d end up as the dragon’s snack.

The fight that broke out when another dragon grabbed me first was probably a primal fight, like two male lions fighting over a deer. It only means that these overflowing curves and rolls I have been appetizing enough to bring their attention to me.

The gloomy realization strikes an internal chord that reverberates through my being and sprouts tears to the surface of my eyes. All I can think about is my grandmother at the retirement home, probably sensing that I’m in danger and unable to get through to me.

Abuela …

She was always a feisty old woman who didn’t take nonsense from anyone. Growing up with her, I witnessed her fight for the things she believed in, even if society told her she was wrong. She did it all on her own when my parents died in that car crash when I was only five.

The embodiment of a fierce female warrior, my grandmother never gave up until I was old enough to be set free.

I can’t give up like this. My whole life, I spent hiding in the shadows and sticking to the walls like a withering flower, shielded by Abuela’s maternal protection. Now that she’s not here with me, I have to do this on her own. I have to invoke the strength I saw in her and wield it as my own to get out of this place.

I swallow back the acrid bile that threatens to bring me down with the weight of insecurities about my figure and take a deep breath.

I can do this.

I can find a way to escape the dragon’s lair.

Maybe I’d been too blinded to see that I possess an innate strength that will be my ticket out.

I didn’t know I had it in me to be brave enough to stand up against the man. That little valiant act of mine—throwing the hot drink at his face—is something I wouldn’t have done against an ordinary human.

Survival instincts. That’s what it is. If I can stand up against the dragon man, I can somehow get out of here. I’ll fight until the very end. I can’t accept defeat, even if death is inevitable.

***

The sunrise offers a moment of respite from the rage building inside me. Standing behind the glass sliding door with my arms crossed, I look out ahead as far as my eyes can see.

My intention to capture the sun’s rising rays was to spot a way out of the island. Instead, I find myself gazing out and marveling at the intricate details of the picturesque land. With pastel blues and soft lilacs scattered around the rich green meadow, I arrive at one simple conclusion.

The island sprang out of my dreams. I’d lose myself in those dreams in a dance toward the crystalline waters, where the fire-breathing dragon would eventually appear and frighten me.

Those dreams were probably a warning that, eventually, the blissful sanctuary would turn into a horror. As my heart steadily picks up pace, there’s a nagging sense that I’m not seeing the whole picture, even if I can see most of the island as if I manifested it visibly from the pages of my dreams.

The fumble of the door behind me sparks a flicker of hope that I’ll find a way to escape this bedroom. With its plush beige carpets and trimmings of gold, the appeal of its expensive doesn’t overshadow my frightful situation.

The bed could have been cast from solid gold, but it wouldn’t have mattered. It’s not like I was meant to take the treasures out into the world to enjoy them.

I’m stuck in this prison of luxury; my only hope is the subtle stir of the air when the door opens, and heavy footsteps come dragging in.

“I brought you breakfast,” Stryker announces flatly before the sound of metal sliding on the ivory nightstand resounds in the heavy silence that follows.

Peeling my gaze from the stunning view of the island as the sun shrouds the rich land with its golden glow, I turn with my arms folded firmly across my chest.

“Need me plump and juicy, huh?” I quip scornfully at his back when he makes his way back to the door.

He pauses then, turning slowly to me with a disparaging glint flashing in his eyes. While he’d been walking away, it was easier to be courageous. When our eyes meet, my breath catches in my throat as I’m faced with fear again, its harsh tresses trickling down my spine when Stryker takes a menacing step forward.

“I need you to live, Camilla,” he snides. A glance at the rest of his poised stance shows me how tightly wound his fists are at his sides, his pulse quickening with how rapidly his chest heaves.

I feel the tension in the air, so palpable that it can be cut with a knife. But the blade would only end up slicing my nose spitefully.

No matter how angry I am, there’s no denying that I’m attracted to him. Even after learning about his true identity and being fearful of his true intentions, I’m magnetized to him.

It’s not just his breathtaking body and scrumptious form that appeals to me, or the charisma he exercised around me before. Even with his brows knitted in an aggrieved frown as he glowers at me, it’s his eyes that seem to gaze into my soul and see it for what it truly is.

For the first time in my life, it’s as if someone truly sees me for who I am.

It frightens me more than anything. I could get away with my outer shell being unworthy of society, and having to hide away just to protect myself from the ridicule I often faced amongst my peers in high school.

But as Stryker stares into my soul, there’s no hiding the truth from him. The unbelievably incessant pull toward him must be written clearly in my eyes. How do I hide how attracted I am? How do I mask the desire I feel burning in my soul?

He can’t know how my body burns for his touch.

Dragging my eyes away and gulping hard, I find a spot on the carpet to hold my attention off from those unjustifiable feelings of excitement that roll in waves across my body as if I’m the ocean in which only Stryker can handle the tides.

“Why—why do you need me to live when you’re gonna kill me soon enough?” I ask in earnest.

Another moment of terse silence feels like a volcanic eruption while it lasts.

“Kill you?” he scoffs. “What makes you think I’m gonna kill you when I am the one who saved you yesterday?!”

His harsh tone compels me to look at him once again as he pounds a palm on his chest and appears visibly outraged.

“Can’t you get it in your head that I’m here to protect you?” he roars fiercely, and I’m frightened again.

He’s angry with me.

As he should be!

He should be angry enough to find me unappetizing. My bitter tongue should be why I appear revolting and unpalatable to him.

“No, I can’t get that in my head!” I snap back bravely. “You have me locked up in here like a guinea pig that you’re feeding for whatever unimaginable reason you have.”

Stryker’s eyes grow wide as he stares at me in disbelief, but I continue, boldly stepping forward and uncrossing my arms.

It must be ridiculous in his eyes to witness me being so melodramatic, but I couldn’t care.

If I’m going down, it won’t be without a fight.

“Let me guess… You handpicked me because of my size. I’ll make for the tastiest meal for your dragon tongue, right? Hah!” I scoff, a scornful chuckle following. “If you think I’ll lie down and surrender, you have another thing coming to you, dragon man!”

My chest heaves uncontrollably as I lug in deep breaths while my pulse races unfathomably fast.

Stryker only lifts his brows in response to my bitter words.

I thought he’d curse at me again, but instead, he bites his tongue and shakes his head slowly.

“That’s what you think you’re here for?”

I throw my hands up defeatedly. “What else would I be here for?”

I’m so frantic, that I don’t catch the movement when Stryker crosses the room. It’s too late when he grabs my shoulders and forces me to compulsion.

“Look into my eyes, Camilla…”

The flurry of emotions I feel right now is too much to bear. Horrified by myself and the shockwave of awareness that rushes through me now, I glare at him and grate through my teeth, “Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”

To my surprise, he does as he’s told and retracts his hands without protest, taking a step back. His reaction to my command reignites my courage to stand up against him and force aside my conflicting feelings.

He nods slowly, and deliberately, as he lifts his eyes to mine, appearing defenseless.

“I don’t mean to harm you, Camilla,” he says softly. “I only want to protect you.”

“Then tell me why you have me locked in this bedroom!”

Something inside him shifts when I raise my voice, his eyes losing their softness as a flash of brilliant golden thunder crosses the earthly depths.

“Because you’re my fated mate!” he bellows gruffly. “You’re my mate, dammit! And I will lay my life down for yours!”

Stunned by his declaration, I gasp and recoil into myself.

Mate?

What does he mean?

What kind of sick, twisted fate is this?

Fated mate?

“I—I don’t understand…” I murmur as if in response to the questions running rampant in my mind.

I can’t make sense of his claim, let alone wrap my head around the fact that he’s not trying to have me on the dinner plate for his next meal.

He gives a disgruntled sigh, hanging his head. “Of course, you wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain. You have no idea how much it pains me to see you in this state. How…” he meets my eyes again, calmer as the emerald depths glow in their soft color. “... How strained I feel, wanting only to protect you.”

“How is this—”

“No!” he cuts in sternly, rising to his full height and compelling me to crane my neck to look up at him. “You saw what happened out there, in the mortal world. I won’t let that happen to you ever again. I am meant to be your protector, from all the dangers that lurk behind you.”

His solemn oath isn’t what I was expecting. Still, I can’t ignore the obvious—that he has me locked away like I’m some prisoner. It’s too much for my brain to comprehend. I have so many questions, but the bitterness I was aiming for just now lingers and hangs on the tip of my tongue, yelling to be set free.

“I wasn’t in any kind of danger before you came around,” I glower, realizing at that moment that what I just said couldn’t be more accurate. “My life was perfectly fine before you came along and ruined everything!”

Stryker’s eyes turn dejected. “Camilla, I—”

“No!” I echo his firm tone when he cut me off before. “It’s the truth! Take me back home right now!”

There’s a moment of hesitation before he says, “I can’t do that. Your life is in danger out there.”

I glare at him ferociously. “I really wish I didn’t meet you at all…” I grate disdainfully. “I hate you, Sterling! Or Stryker or whatever the fuck you are! I hate you!”

The abrasive way my harsh words roll off my tongue seems to do the damage I was aiming for. Stryker looks at me with sadness in his eyes but says nothing as he purses his lips in a heavy-hearted sigh. He nods slowly as if he’s taking in the resentful way I glare at him, then turns around and storms off without another word.

I let out the breath I’d been holding in as soon as he was gone. I’m so adamant about leaving, that I wouldn’t hear anything he has to say.

It’s not like any of it makes sense, anyway.

His mate?

It sounds so basic, so animalistic, that it sounds repulsive. I’m not an animal, I’m a human being with valid emotions and the desire to be loved and cared for.

This is not the answer to my loneliness.

Whatever this is meant to be.

I don’t want any of it. Even if I can’t fight the desire I feel every time he’s near me.