Chapter Two
A Most Unusual Dream
A throbbing headache roused her back to consciousness, and before she opened her eyes, her first thought was that she was still alive. She blinked once, twice, and took in the details of the room as quickly as she could. She lay on her back on a soft surface, staring up at a set of wooden rafters. She was in some kind of building, a cabin perhaps, on some kind of bed,
Slowly, she sat up, wincing as she massaged the side of her head and looked around. It was a bedroom, alright. It wasn’t very large, but the minimalistic style made it appear roomier than it really was. She was sitting on a low-slung cot. A gentle crackling told her there was a fireplace somewhere in the cabin. A small torch hung in a bracket on the wall, dimly illuminating the room.
It dawned on her all of a sudden that she was undressed; all she had on was a lacy bra and panties.
“What the heck?” she murmured.
“At last,” said a deep, familiar voice, “you’re awake.”
Her head traveled to the sound. It was the man who’d attacked her, sitting in a corner, half-shadowed by the flickering flame. His dark eyes glistened as he stared back at her, and his lips curled in a smile. She let her gaze travel lower and drew a sharp breath. He wore trousers but was completely naked above the waist. In the firelight, she could just make out his torso.
Daphne swallowed hard. His broad shoulders gave way to a barrel chest, and veins bulged in his biceps, crisscrossing his forearms and spreading like vines across his hands. His washboard abs were just as taut as the rest of his body.
Damn.
It dawned on her that he must have pried her clothes off while she was asleep. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she folded her arms across her chest, wondering just how much of her body he’d seen.
She could feel his gaze devouring her even as she sat stiffly on the cot. A pleasant tingle spread through her extremities and down to a spot between her legs. A slight ache began in her breasts, and her lips parted slightly. Swallowing again, she looked back at the man.
And that was when she saw it. The mark on his neck.
The dark K stood out like a neon sign. Her heart thudded in her ears as she looked at the back of her hand, where she saw the same symbol.
The memory of the man charging her with his sword hit her like a brick to the head, jerking her to full attention. He’d branded her with that mark just before he’d hit her.
Shit!
She shot to her feet and tried to bolt for the small wooden door leading out of the bedroom, but the man was just as quick as he’d been when she’d faced him earlier. In the blink of an eye, he blocked her path, that massive chest heaving with each breath.
She resisted the sudden urge to reach out and touch it. “Get the hell out of my way.”
“Or what?” he shot back.
She raised an arm and muttered a spell, but nothing happened. The man’s lips curled into an infuriating yet sexy smirk. Up close, she could see his features more clearly. He looked like he was in his mid-forties, not much older than she was. He was gray at the temples, something she hadn’t noticed when she’d first seen him.
“What did you do to me?” she snapped.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The memory of his words bombarded her: Your magic is bound now, witch. You won’t be causing any more trouble here.
She clenched her fists.
Damn.
Whatever he’d done must be blocking her magic somehow. She rubbed the back of her hand against her thigh, half-hoping to erase the mark, but no such luck. This was not how she’d expected her expedition to Frost Mountain to go. Here, it was day one, and she’d already been deprived of the one thing she needed to survive.
Her eyes narrowed. She was just going to have to find another way past him. She needed to take him out somehow. The man who’d tried to kill her earlier wasn’t about to let her go just because she said pretty please.
Before she could come up with a plan, a sudden movement caught her eye. It was the man. Daphne stifled a gasp as grey fur sprouted from his skin and his face elongated into a snout. A second later, he dropped onto all fours before her, a large wolf baring very sharp, dangerous-looking teeth.
Of course, he was a shifter. Frost Mountain was teeming with their kind, both those who had been sucked into this dimension and the descendants of the original shifters who’d been imprisoned here centuries ago. Whichever group this man belonged to, it mattered little. He’d stripped her of her power while he still had his. She was completely at his mercy, and something told her she couldn’t expect any mercy from him.
When the wolf snarled, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
The message was clear: Get back, or I’ll kill you.
Daphne took a few steps backward.
The man shifted back into human form, standing completely naked before her. The wolf had been a warning, she realized. Nothing was stopping this man from ripping her to shreds just because.
But he tried to kill her before. Why would he spare her life now?
That was only one of the many unanswered questions that flashed through her mind. She had to get out of here, away from this man, and figure out how to undo whatever he’d done to her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Daphne had no idea what to do. She’d stepped into uncharted territory the second she breached the portal and found herself on Frost Mountain. Maybe coming here had been wrong.
You think? said a voice in her head.
“You’re not going anywhere,” her captor told her, sitting down in his seat completely bare. He sat facing her, apparently unashamed of his nakedness, which afforded her a distracting view of his package. She shifted her gaze ever so slightly, focusing instead on his powerful thigh muscles. The man was built like Mr. Universe.
Those obsidian eyes continued to bore into her, telegraphing their intent.
Her throat constricted. Was it fear or something else?
She never got the chance to figure that out. Her head throbbed again, and her vision blurred. Her confrontation with her captor had drained her of the little energy she had left. She sank back onto the small bed, and her eyes slid shut as she slipped back into unconsciousness.
***
She was still lying on a bed when she reopened her eyes. Only she wasn’t in the cabin anymore. She knew this because there were no wooden rafters above her. Instead, a ceiling fan spun slowly, making a soft whirring sound.
“Wha…?”
Beep! Beep!
The sound jerked her into a sitting position. Still bleary-eyed, Daphne reached out and smacked the alarm clock on the bedside table, cutting off the sound. She sank back onto her pillows with a yawn. Her body felt unusually weak. She could use some more rest. Maybe in a few hours…
Wait. Pillows? Alarm clock?
Her eyes snapped open, and she rubbed them once, then twice, certain that she was seeing double. The ceiling fan continued spinning overhead. Slowly, she sat up again and looked around. She was in a bedroom much larger than the one she’d been in just moments ago. This one was more modern, with fluorescent bulbs and windows overlooking the street outside. An egg chair sat in the corner adjacent to a bookshelf.
This can’t be real.
It was her apartment—in Vegas.
“I’m dreaming, right?” she said aloud with a nervous chuckle. “This is some kind of weird dream.”
Hadn’t she been on Frost Mountain just a few minutes ago? Daphne scanned her memory. Yes, she’d boarded a plane headed for Chicago and performed a spell mid-flight. The plane had come apart. She’d ended up on Frost Mountain and gotten captured by a sexy shifter whose presence seemed to excite her as much as terrify her.
So how the heck had she gotten back here?
Definitely a dream.
Or had she simply dreamed the part about landing on Frost Mountain?
She shook her head and started to get out of bed, but the sight of a book on her nightstand made her freeze.
“The Book of Nyx,” she said in a hushed whisper.
Okay, what on Earth was going on?
If this were a dream, it was a very convincing one. She started to reach for the grimoire and froze, her gaze riveted on the back of her hand.
Across it was a bold K .
“Oh, no.”
A crash in the distance made her gasp. She shot to her feet and bolted from the bedroom, heading for her front door. She wrenched it open just in time to see a squat, grey-haired woman across the hallway grumbling to herself outside her apartment door.
“Mrs. Elliot?” Daphne questioned.
The woman, who’d been fumbling with her keys, whirled about at the sound of her voice.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear,” she said with a chuckle. “I was trying to get into my apartment, but I dropped my things. I’m such a klutz. I hope I didn’t startle you. I must have…”
Her voice trailed off, and she blinked at Daphne as though she’d just dropped from space. “Daphne?”
Daphne blinked back.
“You…” Mrs. Elliot’s eyes widened. “You’re not supposed to be here. I thought you mentioned you were traveling, going to Chicago.”
The older woman’s eyebrow rose with curiosity. Normally, Daphne avoided lengthy conversations with the other neighbors in the apartment building, but these weren’t normal times. Something strange was going on.
“I did,” she replied, nodding.
“Well, I’m guessing you missed your flight, or did you cancel it?” Mrs. Elliot waved her hand. “What matters is that you’re safe.”
“Huh?”
The woman frowned. “Haven’t you heard? It’s all over the news. A plane went missing yesterday. Flight 18. Daystar Airlines. I reckon that must be the plane you were supposed to be on.” She shook her head. “You are one lucky girl, you know that?”
But Daphne simply said, “I was on that plane.”
She shouldn’t have said that. But when her neighbor shot her a confused, curious stare, she couldn’t help but explain. She had no idea what was happening. For all she knew, this was some sort of dream. “Look, I don’t know how I got back there. I was on the plane when it crashed.”
“Crashed?”
Daphne nodded. “And I think it was my fault.”
Mrs. Elliot stared blankly at her for a moment. Daphne thought she saw the woman’s face go pale. Then, a small smile appeared on her neighbor’s lips, barely reaching her eyes. She jingled her keys in one hand.
“I… I just remembered something,” she said, not meeting Daphne’s eyes. “I think I forgot to pick up dog food.”
With that, she headed down the hall, glancing over her shoulder a couple of times before she disappeared.
Great going, Daphne. You’ve spooked an old woman.
But she had greater concerns now. Mrs. Elliot’s words echoed in her head. A plane went missing yesterday.
So that had happened. The whole accident with Flight 18 had been real. And it happened yesterday. So how the heck was she back here instead of on Frost Mountain?
She stood outside in the hallway for what felt like three consecutive eternities, then hurried back into her apartment and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels. Sure enough, it was on the news: a flight had mysteriously disappeared yesterday over Nebraska. She stopped on one channel and stared at the headline below the harassed-looking reporter:
WIDESPREAD PANIC AS PLANE VANISHES IN MIDAIR. AUTHORITIES YET TO RELEASE STATEMENT.
Crap.
“…there has been widespread speculation online regarding the cause of this mysterious disappearance,” the female reporter was saying. “Some say the incident was part of the international conflict in the Middle—”
Daphne clicked the remote, switching to the next channel.
PLANE VANISHES MID-FLIGHT. COULD BE CONSIDERED AN ACT OF TERRORISM. PENTAGON IN CHAOS.
A male reporter spoke this time.
“…still has been no official statement from authorities, as the government continues to investigate the tragic disappearance of Daystar Airlines Flight 18 and the passengers on board. Citizens are urged to remain calm as we await—”
Click! The screen flickered off. Daphne set down the remote, her fingers trembling. She sank onto the floor and stared at the dark screen, feeling as though there was a weight the size of an anchor in the pit of her belly.
“No,” she said, her pulse throbbing in her ears. “No, no, no, no.”
She still didn’t understand what was happening, but it was becoming distressingly clear that it was all real, impossible as it seemed. Somehow, she’d arrived on Frost Mountain and returned to Earth—Vegas, to be precise. And through it all, she’d left chaos in her wake. Everything had gone wrong from the moment she’d performed that spell.
“Oh, Daphne,” she muttered, “what have you done?”