Chapter 4

4

O ctavia

My eyes open. I'm about to moan when I hear them arguing. Gruff-sounding men.

Men? What? Where am I? Why do I hurt all over?

It all comes back to me.

The crash.

The huge, tattooed guy who looked at me like I was edible. Like he wasn't going to use cutlery whilst eating me. Like he might just tear me limb from limb. He threw me over his shoulder as if I was a thing rather than a person and ran off with me.

He was naked.

Holy hell!

Naked!?

Why?

Then there was that other guy chasing after us…I think he was naked, too. Don't they have clothes on this island? Having said that, I didn't get a good look at him on account of being jostled so badly. I can't remember much after that. I think I may have bumped my head. It's throbbing.

Again, I want to moan, but I hold it in. There is something inside me telling me to be very quiet. I look around and gasp softly, making powder puff up around me. White powder? Come to think of it, I smell ash and fire. Where am I?

It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any kind of sense.

I look up and see a huge cast-iron pot. I'm lying in a stone fireplace. I'm covered in soot and ash. Why the heck am I in a fireplace? I frown. I look around the wooden cabin. It's small and rustic, with carved statues everywhere. They're on shelves, on the floor…on just about every surface. Each one depicts a different type of wildlife; their features are so real it's as if they could come alive at any moment. There's a bed in the corner covered with a patchwork quilt that is a burst of color against the plain walls and wooden floors.

"…isn't here," someone outside snarls, sounding aggressive. It pulls me from my thoughts. "Do you see a female?" The men continue to argue. It sounds like it's happening below me, which is weird.

"She could be up there," another one of them yells. I've never heard such a deep voice in all of my life.

Up there. I am above the ground, then.

She. They're talking about me. I know it.

There is more arguing but I can't make it out. There are several of them. They're all male. At least, I haven't heard a woman speak at all. Just gruff, rude-sounding men.

"There is no one up there. You can climb up and check if you want," the first one snarls, sounding vicious. I thought the other had a deep voice. This one is deeper. "Know that if you go up and my cabin is empty, I will break you. You will bleed. You might not survive it."

Holy shit!

Holy freaking crap.

Where am I? Who are these men? Who talks like that? No one who is remotely civilized.

"Go on!" he yells. "Go up. Go and look! I dare you."

I hold my breath. I don't dare move. Not even so much as a muscle.

"You're sure you didn't see a female?" one of the others snarls.

"I'm not going to answer that," he snaps back. "I'm going to get on with my day now. You decide what you want to do. I'll be up there."

Up here. Up.

I take another look around and note that thick tree branches make up some of the walls. There's one that comes straight through the structure. We seem to be in a canopy of trees. It's darker than it should be. I see green leaves when I look outside one of the few windows. This is some sort of treehouse but on steroids.

It doesn't take long before there are footfalls on a wooden floor. I try to peer through the window on that side from my position in the fireplace – the damned fireplace – but all I get is a glimpse of a shadow.

The man sighs as he…sits. I think he just sat down because wood creaks; it sounds like a wooden chair put under pressure from a person's weight, but I can't be sure. I'm too afraid to move. To say or to do anything.

There is muttering from below and then nothing. I lie there for what feels like a long time. The guy in the chair shifts his weight a few times. What is he doing? What the hell is going on?

Just as I'm tempted to get up so that I can find out, the door opens, and a huge man fills up almost the whole space. The sunlight that filters in has me squinting, blinding me a little. I'm pretty sure he's naked.

"Shhhhhh. Not so much as a peep. Your life is on the line," he whispers before closing the door again.

Your life is on the line.

From him?

Others?

What does he mean by that?

What is going on here?

I hear the big guy sit because the chair creaks again. It doesn't take long before he gets up and goes down there. Once again, there is more arguing from below. The voices are different, making me think that it is new people. They sound like men. It follows a similar thread to the argument before. There are a whole lot of men and from the sounds of things, they are looking for me. They want me…all of them. Once again, he runs them off.

Are they here to rescue me? It doesn't feel that way.

Has this guy kidnapped me? Again, I don't get that feeling. I'm not tied up or gagged. He could have done both of those things. He didn't.

I'm not sure what to do. My gut is telling me to stay put. My heart is racing, and my eyes are wide. I wish I knew what was going on.

I lie there for an age. Until my back starts to hurt from being in the same position for too long. Until my bladder is protesting. Until my one leg starts to go numb.

I sit up as the door opens a few seconds later.

He's here.

He's huge…and very definitely naked. My eyes zone in on his massive penis before I quickly look away, my cheeks heating. I've only ever seen one guy naked. He didn't look anything like this.

"I won't hurt you," he whispers. "Keep your voice down, or someone might hear you." Then he closes the door behind him and enters the cabin. The boards creak under his weight, which has to be significant since he's freaking huge all over. He's muscle packed on more hard muscle. His thighs are like tree trunks. His ass is meaty. I realize that I am staring after him and stop.

I get up and try to dust off some of the soot and ash. I'm covered in the stuff. My bag is, too.

My bag… Thank goodness it made it here as well. I clutch my head, which is sore. Not as bad as earlier, though.

He opens and closes a wooden trunk lined up against the wall. Then he goes to a closet in the corner and rummages inside, finally taking out a pair of jeans, which he pulls on, muttering something I can't make out.

I can breathe again a little once he is clothed. At least the most important part of him is covered, at any rate, even if his torso is still bare. He's looks more muscular clothed. It's insane. I'm trying hard not to stare too much. I sigh, relaxing a little; there was a part of me that was afraid he might...try something, but if he has put clothes on that probably isn't the case.

"Who are you?" he growls, his eyes narrowing on mine. "What are you doing on our island? It's clear to me that you don't belong here."

"I'm Octavia. I didn't ask to be here." I shake my head. "I'm from the Mainland. I want to go home…please."

His eyes are a deep brown. They're framed by thick lashes. He's pretty good-looking if you like the big, gruff types. Guys covered in tattoos – which he is. I see two big dragons on his chest. They start on his back and work their way around his whole torso from each side. They look like they are having a face-off in the vicinity of his pecs. His tattoos are mainly dark but have some red in them, too. They suit him. I can't help but think to myself that he would fit in a maximum-security incarceration facility or on the cover of a men's health magazine equally well, which is nuts.

What's weird is that I'm not afraid of him, even though there is a little voice telling me that I should be. I think he has been protecting me. Why? What does he want from me?

"You want to go home?" He seems to mull this over. Then he nods. "That's not going to be as easy as you think."

"Why not?"

"You're in the middle of the jungle."

Tell me something I don't know.

"I'm fit. I can hike out of here." I chew on my lower lip for a second. "Perhaps you can point me in the right direction. Please tell me there's somewhere half-civilized on this island. Somewhere I can go to get some help."

"There is a city." He nods.

I huff out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Oh, thank god!"

"It's on the other side of the island, though; at least four days' hike away. For someone small and weak like you, it might take as many as six or seven days to reach. You'd have to cross a river, not to mention the climb over the mountains. Going around them would decrease your journey by a day or two, but you'd be easily spotted on the beach, so I don't recommend it." He narrows his eyes in thought.

Shit!

Easily spotted by whom?

Those men trying to find me?

I decide not to ask.

"That's fine. I can do it." I nod. "If you'll show me the way, I'll—"

"Not to mention the eighty or ninety feral males in this jungle. All of them want a mate. They are all looking for you right now, as we speak." His eyes dart to the door like someone might burst in at any second.

"A mate?" I frown. "Feral males?" I frown even harder, cocking my head as my mind works. That's an odd way of speaking. What does he mean? Then I nod. "Oh, you mean wild mountain men looking for wives?"

He looks at me strangely for a few seconds before schooling his emotions. "Yep. That's it exactly," he says. "You're in danger, Octavia."

"Not from you." I'm not sure if it's a statement or a question.

"No, I wouldn't hurt you, but I can't say the same for the others."

"Why would they hurt me? I don't understand what is going on here."

"How did you end up crashing your helicopter on our island?" he asks, folding his arms across his wide and very muscular chest.

"I'm a trainee helicopter pilot. I thought after ten lessons that I would be able to fly on my own, but it turned out that I was very wrong. This wind came out of nowhere and took me off course. I ended up in a whole lot of fog and I couldn't see for shit. Then I was flying over this island. I had two choices: crash into the cliffs or put her down. I chose to put her down, and here I am. The helicopter didn't fare as well."

"Did you come from Draig Island?"

I nod.

"Are you a Tribute?"

"No. I refuse to be a Tribute. It's all a bunch of utter crap."

His eyes narrow on mine. "What is?"

"Are you kidding? All of it." I roll my eyes. "Dragons don't exist. You can't tell me you believe in that nonsense? That you've seen a dragon." I don't wait for him to answer because I know that it can't be true. "I refuse to believe it. I'm not sure what they wanted from us in the first place. What is clear to me is that they are brainwashing people over there. I have no idea why the Mainland has to keep sending people to that island year after year, but I'm willing to bet cold hard cash that it isn't to communicate with bloodthirsty dragons through telepathy." I touch my temples for a moment. "It's all far-fetched bullshit. Sky Wardens, my ass." I laugh. It's shrill with nerves.

"Shhhhh." His eyes seem to darken as they flash back to the door and then to the ceiling above us before locking with mine. "You need to keep very quiet, Octavia. If one of the mountain men hears you…" He sighs. "What the hell am I going to do with you?" He shakes his head.