Page 4 of Thrown into the Mob

“You’re smart enough to understand the why.” There was an edge to his voice suggesting he might be irritated with me.

“As a bargaining chip.”

His eyes narrowed as he glanced toward me and swept out the door. I appreciated his honesty more than him giving me false comfort.

We need to conserve our energy. I studied the bars on the window, but even if I gave my beast his fur, he couldn’t break out of here.

I tucked into the breakfast and had just finished eating when the door was flung open. There’d been no knock, and my wolf reacted with an internal snarl. His muscles tightened, and he shuddered. My body responded as if I were zooming upward in an elevator.

Leaping to my feet, my eyes searched the room for something to defend myself with. I didn’t have the strength to wrench the faucet out of the sink, and there was nothing else I could use, so I braced myself for impact.

“Evander!”

The calm manner had vanished, and his body bristled as if I’d insulted him. His scent didn’t just announce itself. It had spikes and was so potent it scraped itself over my skin. What had happened in the thirty minutes since I’d last seen him and why did he smell different?

“You’re the wolf.” He spoke in a monotone.

His dragon was visible in his gaze, whereas he’d hidden him on his previous visits, and his dark eyes gave me a glimpse into… emptiness.

“Last time I checked, but you know that.” I couldn’t fathom his tactics. He was being both good cop and bad cop, but for what purpose?

Evander side-eyed me, and his sneer and clenched fists were a sign he was about to punch me. But he flung back the bedding and screwed up his nose. I wanted to shout that I didn’t stink, but I was trying to process why his scent had become so intense.

“You'll be moved to a different room today.”

“This one's fine.”

“It wasn't a question.” His nostrils flared. “And no. I’m not Evander though he arranged the new room for you.”

What? This was their ploy to make me think I was losing my mind? I thought dragons were strategic with their long-term planning, but so far, they reminded me of kindergarteners bumbling, grasping, and clutching at ideas.

He stepped closer, and I reeled at his scent. Gripping the edge of the desk, I closed my eyes as it overwhelmed me and my body sagged.

This isn’t Evander. He’s telling the truth.

My wolf was no longer snarling, and all his attention was on this guy. He became calm which was the opposite of what he should have done when faced with an enemy. My thoughts slowed in line with him. I studied dust floating in the air, and the room was silent except for my breathing.

It was my mistake, allowing my eyes to fool me into thinking this was the dragon shifter I’d met previously. But I was struggling to comprehend what was happening as his scent dangled me over shark-infested waters. The desk was propping me up because without it, I’d have sunk to the floor, and this Evander copy would for certain have enjoyed my humiliation.

He left and slammed the door, making me jump. I counted the seconds before my legs could hold my weight, and when I straightened, I stared between the bars on the window, thinking I might catch sight of him.

My reaction was because of stress. The unknown was a powerful opponent, and maybe this was the dragons’ plan. It’d be like leaving the lights on or subjecting me to constant noise. I’d always be in flight-or-fight mode, and that was how they’d wear me down.

No, it’s not like that.

My beast had witnessed and learned human tactics, and as a wolf, he could intimidate an enemy or prey. Though wolves were predators, we were no match for dragons, and we were on their territory and I was disorientated. My wolf was operating in an unfamiliar environment. That was the simplest explanation for our reaction.

No. Again my beast disagreed with me. Evander’s scent was an echo of this one.

What was I supposed to do with that? But now my mind was whirring, and I paced the floor. With my meal forgotten, I raked my nails over my scalp. I wanted someone, anyone, to tell me what to do with this information, but I was an adult and a captive and it was just me and my beast.

I grabbed the bedding and brought it to my face. Remnants of his scent clung to the fabric, and I tossed it away, wanting to stamp it out. Sitting on the bed, I put my face in my hands, and for the first time in years, I cried.

And I hadn’t even gotten the guy’s name.

THREE

MADD