Chapter Thirteen
Olivia spotted the draconian military squad outside the resort lobby. To anyone else, they appeared ordinary uniformed soldiers, except for the patches of fire on the leg of their black pants.
Trained soldiers-protecting, serving their government, and they were looking for someone.
Her pulse pounded, heart echoing in her ears. Marissa had called her father. Fear, sly, and cool like a snake slithered and coiled in her belly.
She should have known her father would call out a favor from the air force commander.
Inside the lobby, she pulled her sun hat down the side of her face. One of the militant druks spoke with a resort staff member while another scanned the lobby.
With her suitcase in tow she slipped out of the lobby. Expecting Jacques to have been waiting for her, she slipped around the large Boxwood bushes out of view.
What was taking him so long? She couldn’t have taken that much time swapping clothes and packing, could she?
Olivia spied Blake Beowulf coming toward her. She would have recognized the rock legend anywhere. Forgive her fan adoring heart, she almost swooned as he drew close, and she almost forgot herself by stepping out of the bushes. Thank goodness the druk who approached him caused her to pause.
Meeting the lead singer of the rock band, Lure, had been the only reason she agreed to accompany her father to Giresun Manor to begin with.
Blake’s head turned, Olivia slunk back, he seemed to look right at her. He couldn’t of course, could he? She knew dragons had a sharper sense of vision and hearing, but she didn’t think it included seeing through bushes.
She’d ask Jacques.
Worried he would come and not find her she backed up about to leave when the druk talking to the staff came out.
Assuming him the leader of the druk squad, she moved closer, rather than further away.
“Are you sure your informant is correct?” The druk leader asked.
“It’s only been a few hours. She was here when they left.”
Olivia held onto the slender branch, pushing it aside enough to peek. Her hand and arm growing slick with perspiration.
“I’ve sent my team to sweep the island. Once we find her, she’ll be taken to Alpha base until we receive further instructions.”
“On whose orders?”
“Commander in chief Zoltan.”
Olivia gasped. Zoltan. Really? It had to be him. Avram Zoltan. Oh, Marissa. What have you done? She couldn’t escape, not her father, and not the man he promised her to wed. How could Marissa betray her?
Blake’s eyebrow rose, his eyes met hers.
Startled, she released the branch. Grabbing her suitcase, she slipped around the side of the resort. Walking as fast as she could on heeled sandals, she inwardly cried out for Jacques. Up ahead, she heard the trickle of a fountain in the garden. She couldn’t stay here and wait for him to find her. Where could she go to avoid her search party?
She tugged along her suitcase. She’d checked out of her room at the resort. Smart move, Olivia, real smart. She wanted to smack her forehead. She could text him… but he never pulled out a phone or offered to share numbers. Some places she traveled with her father didn’t allow cell phones and she had gotten used to not using one.
Maybe dragons had other ways to locate their mates. They could communicate with each other. Jacques had marked her, it had to mean something other than the constant tingle against her skin. More than a tattoo she hoped it would help lead him back to her.
Around the other side of the fountain a man dressed in a black special ops uniform stepped out in front of her.
Olivia halted, her heart skipped a beat. His dragon slit eyes didn’t blink as he flicked his gaze over her. “Olivia Haralamb. Daughter of Senator Ludovic Haralamb. Betrothed of Commander in Chief Avram Zoltan.”
Inwardly, Olivia cringed. She had no choice. She sighed. “That’s right. I suppose you are going to return me to my father now?”
The druk squared his shoulders and grinned. He held out his hand for her suitcase. “Come with me.”
Handing over her suitcase, she went with the dragon-shifter solider. Kissing the mark of her mate on her wrist, she whispered. “I love you Jacques Moldvan. Please find me before it’s too late.”