Chapter 5
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I STRETCHED UNDER THE covers and flexed my foot—which reminded me it was injured with a sharp stab of pain. I sat up, gasping as the pain cleared away the sleep fuzzies, and I remembered what I had seen last night.
Maybe it was a dream. If it was, how did I get here?
Because here was definitely not my bedroom.
This room was twice the size of mine, and my queen bed would be dwarfed next to the one I currently occupied.
The sheets smelled unfamiliar, too—clean, warm, nothing like my cheap detergent.
I threw back the plush duvet and sat on the edge. My feet didn't even touch the floor.
At least my pajamas were still on. Bandages still wrapped my foot, bulky but intact. Small mercies. Kidnappers who respected pajamas and wound care.
I rubbed my eyes. Someone had broken into my house—again. Only there were two someones. One of whom had a knife hovered over my chest. And the other...
I shook my head. That wasn't possible. Trauma was playing tricks on me. I'd almost convinced myself that was it. That sleep and trauma combined to make my rescuer, or maybe kidnapper, a literal monster.
And then the door swung open and in stepped the monster.
I scrambled into the corner and winced as my foot shot another arrow of pain up my leg.
The monster immediately raised its arms, palms out.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Again."
Its voice was low and rumbled and did things to my stomach I chose to ignore.
"My name is Quin. This is my house."
I glanced around quickly, but whatever idea I had about where monsters lived, this typical American bedroom wasn't it. "You kidnapped me?"
Quin took a step back and pulled at one of his ears. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. If you aren't injured, I'll walk you back." He stared at the floor and added, "As long as you can keep a secret."
I nodded dumbly. "That you exist."
His eyes hit mine as he nodded. "Exactly."
They were bright blue and glowed. His fur was light gray and black horns curled up and away from his wolf-shaped head. The rest of him was humanoid, if you added fur and claws. Claws that might have looked wicked had they not been encased in rainbow-striped caps.
He saw me staring and waved them at me.
"Silicone caps. They blunt our claws so we don't tear up everything we touch."
Panic spiked my heart rate. "We? There are more of you?"
"Shit." He pulled at his ear again. "I have brothers, yes."
"I'm going to pass out again."
He started toward me, but stopped when I crammed myself further into the corner.
"Please sit down. I don't want you to injure yourself. I'll get you some water. Maybe something to eat?"
I just nodded. My brain was blank, unable to process what my eyes were seeing and my ears were hearing. I sat down on the edge of the bed and slowed my breathing until the dizzy 'I'm going to pass out' feeling passed. Inhale, exhale, count, repeat. Shock protocol, Haven-style.
The creature reappeared, holding a tray with a bottle of water and an assortment of fruit. I jerked back when he started forward. He set the tray on the end of the bed and backed up into the doorway.
"I'm not going to hurt you, despite how I look."
I cracked the lid of the bottle of water and downed half of it.
Then I ate a handful of grapes. Then I realized if the water or food was drugged, I'd just fucked up.
For some reason, I didn't think it was. Sure, the creature blocking the only exit was scary.
But he hadn't hurt me. Actually, he'd gone to great pains to make sure I wasn't hurt.
My survival instincts were screaming; my brain was quietly noting that nothing he'd done so far matched "predator luring prey. "
"Last night, there was someone else in my house." I was trying to sort through what had happened logically, despite the beast in front of me throwing a bit of my logic out the window.
He nodded. "Yes. I was in the woods when I noticed someone breaking into your house. I followed him in."
"And where is he now?"
Quin winced and pulled at his ear. "Dead."
"So there's a corpse in my bedroom?"
"Uh, yes. I'm afraid so."
"Jesus. I need to call the police." I stood up and put on my brave face. "I'd like to go home now."
"I don't want you to go."
He looked just as shocked as I did. "But I have to. There's a dead body in my house and I need to call the police."
"What are you going to tell them?"
My forehead scrunched before I worked it out. "I won't tell them about you."
He nodded but didn't move. "What are you going to tell them about how he died?"
I shrugged. "That I woke up with a knife over my chest and I fought back."
He scanned my body up and down. Then he sighed.
"Hey! I'm stronger than I look." I put my hands on my hips and squared my shoulders. "You can't keep me here."
The edge of his lip ticked up. "I know. On both counts. But I don't think the police will believe that you somehow grew claws and shredded a dude's throat open."
My butt hit the bed. "Shredded?"
His head tilted. "Pretty much, yeah. I wasn't exactly thinking about killing discreetly at that moment."
I stared up at him. "What were you thinking?"
His growl rumbled through my belly. "My only goal was getting that knife away from your chest." His hand reached toward me and I cringed. He pulled it back, sinking into a crouch.
I steeled my spine. "I'm not afraid."
"Good. Because I was running out of ways to make myself smaller without becoming a literal footstool." He looked away and took a deep breath. "What's your name?"
He'd murdered without blinking. He could have killed me. Instead, he chose to be careful. Quiet. To make himself smaller for my comfort. "Haven Ward. Can I go home now? I'll think of something for the cops, I promise."
"What if you didn't have to?"
"What, and just like, live with a corpse?"
His head jerked back on his neck. "Ew, no. I meant that my brothers and I could clean up the mess I made. You wouldn't have to involve the police at all."
"What if someone reports him missing?"
"We have someone for that, too."
"Of course you do." That should have terrified me more than it did.
People who had "a guy" for corpses and missing persons were not on the normal side of any line.
But the alternative was trying to explain a torn-out throat and a mystery monster to a bunch of very human cops.
I rubbed my eyes, then looked back at him. "What are you?"
"I'm a genetically engineered hybrid of werewolf and dragon DNA."
"Werewolf... and dragon...?" I was losing my mind.
It was the only thing that made sense. I was hallucinating.
Maybe my family had a history of psychosis.
I grew up in the foster system so I had no idea.
Well, if Quin was a hallucination, I'd be able to walk right through him.
Maybe that would break the delusion and let me see I was actually still in my house, still in my room, and there was no dead body.
My rational brain objected—this was far too detailed and internally consistent to be a hallucination—but I was not ready to unpack that.
So I stood up and marched confidently for the door. Only to bounce off Quin and nearly land on my ass. He caught me, because of course he did.
His touch unlocked something. I was instantly calmer and felt the safest I'd felt since moving to Damruck.
Up close, Quin was overwhelming. Broad shoulders, thick arms, heat rolling off him.
Someone that big and dangerous should have scared me.
Instead, my breath stuttered and tingling started low in my belly—a traitorous response in my body that I immediately ignored.
Shock, I told myself. Adrenaline crash. The compulsion to touch him flooded my brain, and made thinking of anything else impossible.
What. The. Fuck.