“Are you comfortable?” It had taken no fewer than five people to get her bathed and dressed, then into the wheelchair.

Ainsley, Bonnie, Isla, Leslie, and Martina all stood off to the side and watched as I pushed the chair from the room.

The girl—would I ever know her name?—gave me an enthusiastic nod as she grinned from ear to ear.

She liked all the attention, I decided. She’d been ignored, left alone for a long time. Perhaps even abused. It was dangerous, allowing my imagination to run roughshod as I was, but she was far too fascinating—and silent—to do otherwise.

“I have to admit, this place has done me good,” I explained as I wheeled her through the lobby and outside.

Her head swung back and forth as though it were on a swivel, taking it all in. I had forgotten for a moment there that she had not been outside her room up to that point.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it? I can’t imagine a person having troubles on their mind while being a guest here.”

A shadow crossed her face, and she stopped looking around. Yes, there was a problem. She was a different girl than she’d been only moments earlier. Staring straight ahead.

“I said something awkward again, didn’t I?” I asked as I pushed her through the door which led out to the pool. It was inviting, surrounded by lounge chairs and tables with striped umbrellas.

Members of the clan swam and laughed alongside some of Mary’s teams. It was like a vacation for everyone involved, and the girl in the chair didn’t seem the least bit interested.

Even so, I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She had so many questions. Why weren’t there any staff members milling around, carrying trays and fresh towels? Why was there no staff at the front desk when we’d walked past? Why hadn’t housekeeping been to her room? I had already discussed all of this and more with Martina, who had come up with a list of ways in which our little arrangement wasn’t like a typical luxury resort. I wouldn’t know from personal experience, naturally.

We had decided that I wouldn’t address these differences unless she asked about them.

I was certain she was able to speak—she hadn’t given me any indication to the contrary except for her silence.

It could’ve been that she simply didn’t know what to say, or that she’d suffered such a severe trauma that she’d stopped speaking.

Or that she didn’t want to reveal anything about herself.

Every silent minute gave me more reason to believe she was hiding something, and that it might come back to bite us all in the ass.

As I passed Mary’s office window, I could almost feel her watching our progress. Her words from earlier in the day rang in my head. She may bring outsiders to us, looking for her. They could be trouble for everything I’ve built here—and your clan.

It wasn’t only for her sake, then, that I had to find out about her. And not just because she played on my senses like a fiddle, never leaving my mind for more than a moment at a time—and even then, she always found a way back in.

But because she could spell trouble for everybody else.

“How are you feeling? Are you well?” I asked, walking down a path which wound through the lush, expertly manicured grounds.

Who took care of the grounds? A mystery to me. I had never seen a worker on the place, though there had to be plenty of them hiding somewhere. There wasn’t so much as a squeaky shutter or smudged window in sight. Even the white sand beach which sat several hundred yards from the rear of the main building was pristine.

It looked as though someone had raked it free of shells, stones, anything which might mar its perfection. I parked the wheelchair at the end of the path, where it met up with the sand.

She looked up at me, her green eyes clearer than ever in the light of day.

“I wondered what color your eyes were, when we were bringing you here,” I confessed. Nothing outside of the need to get through to her would’ve pulled such a confession from me at any other time. “You were unconscious, of course, and I tried to keep your body stable in the back of the truck. The road was bumpy, rough. I didn’t want you to bounce around too violently. And I wondered what color your eyes were. My mind was probably fixing on things that were pretty inconsequential just to keep me sane. It was a crazy day, top to bottom.”

She watched me, still silent, with a longing I hadn’t seen from her before written all over her face. It was a crazy day for her, too. Crazier than it was for me, because she had been set on killing herself.

“I need to be honest with you,” I said, standing in front of her. I didn’t want to make it easy for her to look away. “You see, this resort… it’s not a normal resort. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”

She chewed her plump bottom lip with even, white teeth. Weighing her reaction. What did she have to lose by agreeing?

“Come on,” I prodded with a half-smile. “You’re not stupid. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do. And you’re not completely doped up anymore. You’ve figured out by now that this isn’t a tourist destination.”

She sighed, then nodded.

“It isn’t easy for me to maintain a lie,” I admitted. “I’ve always found it easier in the end, to tell the truth. This way, I don’t have to keep track of the lies I’ve told. I’m not very good at it, either. So it’s better for me to be honest with you. This is a special place. All of us… well, we’re here for different reasons, but the resort isn’t open to outsiders. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

Another nod.

She chewed her lip harder than ever.

“None of us would ever make you leave,” I assured her, trying to foresee what could cause her strain. The dragon wasn’t pleased with my approach, to put it mildly.

You’re a fool. You’re pushing her away. We need to pull her in, tell her how things truly are, that she is ours. We need her. His thoughts became my own.

Yes, and that need pressed itself against my consciousness and threatened to overtake my good sense. I needed her with every fiber of my being. Just looking at her sent flames of desire shooting through me, threatening to burn too hot to control.

She took a deep breath, looking down at her hands. Would she speak? What did she fear revealing if she did?

“You have nothing to fear here. Don’t you know that yet? I don’t know who you are or why you did what you did.”

She looked up, her eyes sharp.

“I wouldn’t judge you, either,” I continued. “And it’s not a matter of feeling as though you owe me an explanation, because you don’t. But it would be a hell of a lot easier to know how to move forward if I knew even the first thing about you.”

Her eyes were overly bright with unshed tears which soon spilled over, onto her cheeks.

I wanted to hold her in my arms, to wrap myself around her and promise anything in the world so long as it would bring her some measure of peace. What had she been through? I knelt at her feet, taking her hands in mine.

“Tell me, tell me,” I implored. “You don’t owe it to me, but it’s breaking my heart to see you like this and I can’t explain why. You can tell me. I might be able to help.”

She shook her head. “Nobody can help me.”

Her voice, even shaky with tears, was like music to my ears.

“So you can speak.”

“Of course, I can speak,” she wept. “Maybe it’s better for all of us if I don’t. I knew this was too good to be true. I’m putting you all in danger just by being here. Why did you have to save me?”

So, she admitted there was danger in her being there.

“How would we be in danger? I mean, if you were discovered here.”

She looked straight into my eyes—into my soul, it seemed. “I’m not asking for you to explain what makes this place special or who you people are. Why you don’t want to be discovered. Please. Do me the favor in return of not pressing me on this. I’m begging you. I’ll leave as soon as I’m well. Only please, don’t ask me for more than that.”

“I never said I want you to leave.”

“No, but it would be better—besides, you’re not the only person here. You have to think of the others. Whoever they are.” She looked over her shoulder, to the resort. “You’ve all been so nice to me. I’ll go away, disappear, like I was never here. As soon as I can get around on my own. It will take some time, of course, but I’ll stay quiet until then. I won’t even leave my room, if need be.”

The desperation was plain in her voice. What was her secret?

“You should take me back,” she announced, wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “Please. I’ll feel better there.”

I couldn’t argue that and would be foolish to try. “Can you tell me one thing about yourself, at least? Just one little thing?”

“Maybe. Depending on what it is you want to know.”

“What’s your name?”

She gasped softly, then surprised me by chuckling. “Right. Of course. You can call me Anna.”

Another half-truth, or a flat-out lie. “I didn’t ask what I can call you. I asked what your name is.”

“That is my name. Anna.” Stubborn, adamant, determined to reveal only what she wanted to reveal.

I put on some speed getting her inside.

The day wasn’t nearly as pleasant anymore.

How was I ever supposed to get anywhere with her?

It was almost a relief to wheel her back to the room and call on the women to help her into bed.

For the first time, I was starting to wonder if my dragon knew what he was talking about when he called her our mate. How was I supposed to bring her into my life when I couldn’t get a single grain of truth from her?

I decided to find Gate and vent to him about it, or else risk blowing up at someone. Or shifting without warning—which would be infinitely worse, especially if “Anna” was around to see it.

Except that Gate found me first.

“We have a problem,” he growled, gesturing for me to follow him to Mary’s office.