“Theron Kincaid is a dragon,” Odin said, and the words hung in the air between us like a bomb waiting to detonate. “Specifically, a forge-born dragon. One of the rarest types, with abilities that are extraordinarily valuable to certain people.”
I stared at him, trying to decide if he was insane or if I was still unconscious and this was all some kind of drug-induced hallucination. “That’s not— I… You’reinsane. Dragons aren’t real.”
“Aren’t they?” He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, then turned it to face me. “Watch.”
The video showed a creature that couldn’t possibly exist—massive, covered in silver-blue scales, wings that seemed too large for physics to allow. It was breathing fire, actual fire, in what looked like a remote mountain location.
“That’s Ignatius Steel,” Odin said. “One of the most powerful dragons in North America. And Theron’s friend. This is what your coach really is. What he’s been hiding from you.”
My mouth was dry. I wanted to call him a liar, wanted to dismiss this as elaborate CGI or some kind of trick. But something in my gut was screaming that it was true. That this explained everything, the copper eyes, the inhuman strength, the danger Theron had warned me about without explaining what that danger was.
“You’re lying,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
“I’m not. And you know I’m not.” Odin put his phone away. “I’m a dragon too, though not as powerful as Theron. My father was fire-born, my grandfather forge-born, but the abilities didn’t pass to me. I got the long life, the enhanced strength, but none of the useful talents. The dragon community considers me lesser. Defective.”
There was real bitterness in his voice now, and I saw something raw in his expression before he controlled it.
“They turned their backs on me,” he continued. “Refused to teach me, to include me, to acknowledge me as one of them. So I made my own way. Built my own empire. And now I’m using dragon technology—the things they refuse to share with humanity—ultimately for the good of mankind.”
“By kidnapping people?” I asked, my voice sharp despite the fear. And I didn’t believe the good of mankind BS for a minute.
“By doing what needs to be done.” He moved closer again, and I instinctively tried to pull back even though I was tied to the chair.
I felt the familiar sharp prick in my neck before I could react. My vision immediately started to blur around the edges, that same sluggish sensation creeping through my skull.
“No—” I tried to say, but my tongue was already going numb.
“We’re moving locations,” Odin said, his voice seeming to come from very far away. “Can’t stay in Denver. Too many of Theron’s friends looking for you. Too many dragons who think they can interfere.”
I tried to fight the drug pulling me under, tried to stay conscious, but it was like swimming against a riptide. My head lolled forward, and I felt hands releasing the ropes binding me to the chair.
“You know what’s funny?” Odin’s voice was right next to my ear now. “I’m taking you home. Back to Chicago, where this allstarted. Fitting, don’t you think? The city that broke you will be the place where you serve your real purpose.”
I tried to speak, to ask what he meant, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Strong arms lifted me—too strong, unnaturally strong in the way Theron had been when he’d thrown Odin across my apartment—and I felt myself being carried.
The last thing I registered before the darkness took me completely was the sound of a vehicle door opening and Odin’s voice saying something about flight plans and secure facilities.
Then nothing.
When I woke up again, everything was different. The hum of the warehouse was gone, replaced by a deeper, steadier vibration that I recognized with sick certainty.
We were on a plane.
I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh overhead lights. I was lying on what felt like a leather seat, my hands zip-tied in front of me now instead of rope. My head was pounding worse than before, and my mouth tasted like chemicals.
“Welcome back.”
I turned my head, carefully this time, and saw Odin sitting across from me in what was clearly a private jet. Expensive leather, polished wood accents, the particular luxury that came with serious money.
“Where am I?” My voice was barely a croak.
“About an hour outside Chicago.” He checked his watch. “We’ll be landing soon. Then we’ll get you settled into your new accommodations.”
Panic spiked through me, cutting through the drug haze. Chicago. He’d actually taken me to Chicago. How long had I been unconscious? How far behind was Theron?
“He’ll find me,” I said, trying to inject confidence I didn’t feel into my voice. “Theron will find me, and when he does—"
“When he does, he’ll do exactly what I tell him to.” Odin’s smile was cold. “Because the alternative is watching you die. And dragons are remarkably protective of their mates.”
