Chapter 12
Kaylee
Something was chasing me, and I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was that if I stopped, the dark thing would devour me. It was stronger than me, and faster than me…and it was coming for me. Relentlessly.
My bare feet slapped against the tiled floors as I raced through the corridors, each breath searing through my lungs.
I skidded at the end of the hallway, slamming into the far wall and knocking the air from me.
I gulped nothing and pushed off the wall, forcing my legs to keep going.
Couldn’t stop. Had to get to…anywhere. I just had to get away.
I spun round another corner and stared in horror. A dead end. No windows. No doors. No escape. Just the beast chasing me from the shadows. I threw my head back and screamed.
“Kaylee!”
I jolted, and blinked my eyes in the semi-darkness, my shoulders still heaving as I tried to orient myself in the unfamiliar environment.
“You were having a bad dream.”
I blinked again, and Rook sharpened into focus, leaning over me.
Rook. I was in my room. The one in his home. Right.
“Dream,” I panted, trying to force the terror from my mind as I sunk back into the pillows. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment as my breath came back under control, and then I turned to Rook with a frown.
“You know my name,” I said dumbly.
“Of course I know your name,” he said, his voice somewhere between confused and amused. I pushed myself up onto one elbow.
“Then would it kill you to actually use it during the day sometime rather than those ridiculous nicknames?”
“Maybe,” he said, and this time his tone was definitely amused. “Better not to find out.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, and darkness glinted in his eyes, but he let it go. I scrunched my forehead up. “How did you know I was having a nightmare?”
He grimaced, and his tone tightened with displeasure. “I heard you screaming.”
“Oh.” I felt my cheeks color. Of course I’d been screaming like a little girl in front of the centuries old dragon.
Just great. And I’d probably woken him up.
In fact, looking at his clothes—or lack of, except for a pair of gray sweatpants that looked like they’d been pulled on in a hurry, I was certain of it.
He was even barefoot. I didn’t think I’d seen him barefoot a single time since I’d been here.
And I definitely hadn’t seen him bare-chested.
He was ripped. I was pretty sure his muscles had muscles. I was also pretty sure I was staring.
“Do you have them often?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snapped, definitely over the staring. What a dick. “Did I inconvenience you? In future I’ll try to scream more quietly.”
His jaw ticked and tension rippled along his shoulders. I swallowed.
“Answer the question.”
I rolled my eyes and looked away. “Fine. Yes. A few times a week, ever since my wolf didn’t show. And yeah, I know what it means.”
“Do you?” His eyes narrowed as he regarded me, and this was suddenly entirely too much conversation to be having while I was lying in bed, propped up on one elbow and dressed in a very flimsy nightgown.
A flimsy nightgown that he’d provided, seeing as he’d dragged me away here before I could pack any of my meagre possessions.
Asshole. And assholes did not get to enjoy the sight of me in flimsy nightgowns, even if they were made of what felt like some kind of very expensive silk.
I sat up, pulling the duvet up around me.
He snorted in amusement and I ignored it, focusing on his question.
“Yes, I do. I’m not a complete idiot, thanks. I’m obviously scared the pack’s going to come for me because I have no protection, no wolf, so I keep dreaming about it happening. It’s just a dumb dream, my subconscious’s helpful way of reminding me most of the pack wants me dead.”
“The pack? That’s what you see?”
I blushed. “Well, no, I don’t see anything. I just know it’s chasing me through the shadows.”
“It?”
“It. They. Whatever.” I threw my hands up in frustration, then realized I’d dropped the duvet and snatched it up again, clutching it to my chest.
“Indeed.”
“Indeed? What the hell is ‘indeed’ supposed to mean?”
“I presume you are proficient in English? Do you require a dictionary?”
“Only so I can shove it up your ass.”
There was absolute silence for a beat as we both realized what I’d just said. He closed the small gap between us so that he was looming right above me, forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. His voice dropped an octave, low and dangerous.
“Spend a lot of time thinking about my ass, do you, Dhoca?”
If he thought I was going to dignify that with an answer, he could bite me, because I had absolutely no intention of answering.
“Yes,” I squeaked. Wait, what? I snapped my mouth shut and then immediately opened it to take that back.
But before I could find the words, his lips were crushing down against mine, hot and strong.
I froze, and he pulled back a fraction. And then my hand shot up and wound itself in his short hair, dragging him back to me.
His tongue probed at me, demanding entry, and I nipped at him.
He growled and came down on top of me, his body covering mine as he pressed me back into the mattress.
Heat shot between my legs and I moaned into his mouth.
He chuckled darkly then pulled back again.
A frustrated growl left my lips, and I reached up for him again but he planted a hand on my chest and pressed me back down firmly.
I squirmed, but he was stronger than me, and he had no intention of letting me up until he chose. Asshole.
He stared down at me like he wanted to devour me, and a shiver worked the length of my body.
I wanted that. Very much. I arched my back, pressing my hips shamelessly against him, and wishing that his sweatpants—hot as they were—weren’t between us right now.
Or the blankets. Or anything that kept his flesh from mine.
I gasped and he stiffened—not in the area I was hoping for, or at least, not just there. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong but he was already off the bed, staring down at me with dark eyes.
“Rook?” I asked timidly.
He shook his head, squaring his jaw and jerking his eyes away. “This is a mistake.”
Rejection shot through my chest. He thought I was a mistake?
Of course he thought I was a mistake. He was centuries old, rich, powerful, a freaking dragon…
and I was just me. Young, stupid, and hell, not even a shifter as far as the rest of the world was concerned.
Why would he want me? Even my pack hadn’t wanted me, there was no way someone like Rook would be interested.
“Get some sleep,” he said gruffly, backing towards the door, keeping his eyes carefully averted from me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Not if I see you first,” I muttered, angrily wrapping the blanket around myself and turning onto my side, facing the wall away from Lord Asshole.
I listened as the door clicked softly shut and it wasn’t until his footsteps in the corridor faded away that I allowed the tears to slide from my eyes.
I was such an idiot. I didn’t even want Rook.
The guy was a total control freak, rude, arrogant, not to mention completely self-absorbed.
I just… I ground my teeth together as my tears tracked down to the pillow.
I wished my body would stop having such a stupid reaction to him.
Rook walked into the room and my damn ovaries did a tap dance.
Something about him got me all tied up in knots, and I hated it.
So what that he thought kissing me was a mistake?
He was right, it was a mistake. I didn’t want anything to do with him.
I didn’t even want to be here, let alone start getting cozy with my captor.
He dragged women here against their will.
Repeatedly. And then when they died, he went out and got another one.
In anyone’s book, he was a bad guy. And I did not have a thing for bad guys.
Even ones who had abs and looked unspeakably hot barefoot and in gray sweatpants.
With hair mussed from sleeping. And hungry eyes roving every inch of my flesh.
And who kissed like they’d never tasted another person before. And—
Not. My. Type.
Just because he was the literal only guy left in my life did not mean I had to beg him to crawl into my bed with me.
Ugh. The only guy in my life. For the rest of my life.
That was a depressing thought. I’d always assumed my celibacy in the pack thanks to my wolfless status would be a temporary situation, but if the choice was celibacy or Lord Asshole, then sign me up to be a nun, because I was not going there.
Even if it had been an option, which it clearly wasn’t, as he’d made perfectly clear when he all but sprinted from my room.
Well, fuck him. It was his loss, not mine, and I was done crying about being rejected by an asshole I didn’t want anything to do with, anyway.