When I woke up, time had passed. A lot of it. Enough so that when my eyes opened, and I looked around, I was no longer staring up at the ceiling of a hand-carved stone cell. The ceiling was a warm white, with lightbulbs mounted inside. They gave off a warm glow. It was pleasant, comforting. And completely foreign.

I turned my head to the side. A bed. I was in an actual bed. A comfortable one, too. It cradled me the way I imagined a cloud would.

The room around me was much bigger than the cell, and completely modern. A flat-screen TV on the wall, a sound system mounted underneath. On the wall beside the door was a screen which gave readouts of all sorts of information: weather, the date, the time, the temperature inside the room. The walls were painted in a soft gray, while the bedding was deep blue and white.

I ran my hands over it, relishing its softness.

I realized I was moving without pain. It didn’t hurt at all. Was I still drugged? I had to be, unless I’d slept for an entire week. I squinted carefully and concentrated on reading the date and time. If memory served, the accident took place on a Wednesday morning. According to the screen, it was Thursday afternoon. A long sleep, for sure, but not enough time for me to have healed completely.

I was wearing a thin, cotton shirt which was at least four sizes too large and practically floated around me. It made checking out my shoulder easier—it practically hung out of the loose neck hole.

I could hardly believe how quickly my muscles had started to repair. Skin covered the wound again, too. There was a lot of discoloration, but it was no longer rotting. I was sure I had never been so relieved to see anything.

A slow, gentle stretch told me there was still a lot of discomfort and tightness, but I could move without nearly passing out from the pain. It was an improvement.

I got up slowly and walked to the display on the wall. Was there a lock on there somewhere? How was I supposed to get out of the room? And where was this room, anyway? Not a hospital, certainly. It would’ve made sense if I were still in the caves with Pierce, but this room was a pretty serious departure from the cell I remembered.

There was an open door to my right—curiosity drew me to it and through it into a bathroom even nicer than those at the mansion.

A set of marble steps led to the sunken tub with its whirlpool jets, surrounded by candles. Four glass walls outlined a shower stall large enough for a half-dozen people to use at once. The floor was comfortably warm under my feet. Heated? A nice touch.

I couldn’t still be in the cave. No way was there anything this luxurious under that mountain. Even so, there was something about the place that I couldn’t put my finger on. Something off. I stood still and held my breath to listen closely.

And I heard it. A subtle, gentle dripping. Water was dripping and trickling through the walls, the ceiling, even under my feet. There was a groaning, too, the sound of tons of rock pressing down on another few tons of earth.

I’d heard it in the cell, when I was so sure I was going to die.

I was in the same place—just not the same area.

It felt like a stupid thing to do, but I had to do something. “Hello?” I turned in a circle, eyes searching my surroundings. No cameras, no speakers. No handle on the door. So there was little chance of anybody watching me, but no chance of getting out of here.

Little hairs stood straight up on the back of my neck. Had Alina saved my life only for me to spend the rest of it locked in a very comfortable prison?

There was noise on the other side of the bedroom door. Panic pushed a breathless scream up through my throat—I was just about to open my mouth and let it out when the door slid open, and a smiling Alina walked in.

“I didn’t think you’d be up and around so soon!” She came to me, took my face in her hands and peered closely. “You look good. Your eyes are clear, your color’s back.”

“Where—where are we?” I whispered, closing my hands over hers.

Lines creased her smooth forehead as her brows knitted together. “We’re still with them.”

I didn’t need to ask who she meant.

“You’re staying here, too?”

“Sure. I have the room next door.” She grinned. “This is pretty sweet, huh? Who would guess they lived like this?”

I didn’t want to hear about it. “When will we be allowed to leave?”

Her smile faded. “You should be more concerned with getting better.”

“I feel fine.”

“I know you feel that way, but that’s because I’ve been dripping tonic down your throat every four hours since I got here. Your last dose was…” She checked out the screen beside the door. “It’s only been two hours, give or take. You’ll start feeling different in another hour or so.”

“Your bedside manner leaves something to be desired,” I groaned.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with my bedside manner yesterday,” she muttered before turning me in place and pushing me in the direction of the bed.

“Thanks for reminding me. I would rather not think about yesterday, if you don’t mind.” I settle back in, though I didn’t want to. I wanted sunlight and fresh air. I wanted movement. I didn’t want to lie in bed—even when it was almost sinfully comfortable.

“Maybe it’s better if you give yesterday a little thought, even if you don’t want to.” She tucked me in absentmindedly, talking as she did. “You’re the one who insisted on driving around when you knew it was going to rain buckets all day long. You shouldn’t have been out, especially not in that tiny little excuse for a car.”

“Ugh. My car.” I rolled my eyes and let my head drop onto the pillow. “It’s gone for good.”

“I can’t pretend I’m upset for you.”

“No, and I wouldn’t expect you to,” I muttered.

“Papa never wanted you to drive that thing.”

“I’m sure Papa would have been glad to know it’s a snarl of twisted metal now. It’ll probably make a nice little home for a family of skunks.” I had to chuckle, even though the thought of being without my car made me miserable.

It was my only connection to something real, something beyond the world I had been raised in. The world that had always held fascination for me.

“I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re not on some dark, unmarked road in that rusty old thing.”

“No. I’ll be here. In this cave.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “When can we leave?”

She grimaced. “I don’t know. Not until you’re better, at any rate.”

“When will that be?”

“I can’t tell the future.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She whispered, too, leaning in close. “I don’t know if they’re going to let us go. Or when.”

My heart froze for a second before beating again. Just the thought of living here forever… “No. That can’t be.”

“Tell them. They make it sound like we’ll be here forever. And they’re not happy about it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were.”

I pushed her away with surprising strength, considering what I had just been through, and stormed over to the closed door. “How do I get out of this room?”

“Jasmine, you shouldn’t—”

“How?” I looked at the screen beside the door and finally noticed the button labeled OPEN. I jabbed my finger against it, and the door slid open.

“Jasmine, you should be resting.” Alina closed a hand around my elbow which I shook off.

No way was I about to allow them or anybody to keep me prisoner.

“I’ll rest later. Where are they?” I marched barefoot down a long hall, warmly lit by electric lights the way the room and bathroom were.

Where did they get power from? The walls were the same carved rock as back in the cells, not like the bedroom. I passed several closed doors before hearing the deep, male voices which carried down the hall.

I headed straight for them and soon found myself in what looked like a game room.

Smoke and another brawny man with thick, dark stubble covering his cheeks were deep into a video game—judging from Smoke’s groans and curses, he was losing.

“Next time, we’re playing chess,” he grumbled as his player died. He punched his opponent’s arm, only somewhat playfully.

Two more men played air hockey at a large, wooden table in one corner. There were old-fashioned arcade games along one wall and a glowing, blinking juke box in another corner which played light, soothing jazz in contrast to the testosterone clogging the air.

None of them noticed me.

I cleared my throat.

“Oh.” One of the air hockey players froze in place.

His opponent took the opportunity to score on him before turning to see me there. He froze, too.

“Where’s Pierce?” I asked, suddenly very aware that I was dressed in nothing but a vastly oversized t-shirt.

“You look much better.” Smoke rose, smiling. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah, thanks. Where’s Pierce?”

Just like that, his mood shifted.

Like I cared. His brother was the one who got me into the mess I was in.

“He’s around here somewhere.”

Alina stood next to me—just like that, he went back to smiling again.

I glanced her way to check her reaction and saw that she was smiling, too.

What’s this all about? They might as well have been the only two people in the room.

“She only wants to find out what the plans are for the two of us to leave,” she explained in a soft voice. Softer than the voice she’d used when we were talking in the bedroom. What did I miss between them?

The guys exchanged a look which hardly filled me with hope. “Uh, that’s not an easy question to answer,” the scruffy one said. He was dark-haired and tall and muscular, just like the rest of them. Had Pierce or Smoke called them a family? They had to be related, unless all dragon shifters looked the same. Just another reminder that I was hopelessly out of my depth with them.

“Why not? It seems pretty easy to me.” I looked at my sister, whose cheeks went deeper red every second. “Hey, Alina. I’m feeling a lot better. This was all a lot of fun, but I think it’s time for us to go home. Do you think I’m well enough to leave?”

“It’s not a question of whether you’re well enough.” Pierce’s voice.

I turned to find him behind me, standing in the doorway. Scowling.

What a surprise.

“What’s it a question of, then?” I fought with myself to keep from paying too much attention to his eyes, his magnificent cheekbones, the way his biceps and pecs strained the seams on his t-shirt.

Seeing him in full light, while conscious, was a completely different experience from what I remembered from the cell.

“There is no question. You probably don’t remember because you were in and out at the time. I guess it’s understandable.” He took a step closer to me—slowly, like he was approaching a frightened animal.

I stood my ground, even though my insides quaked. I was challenging a dragon. A dragon I had ridden while he flew me to his cave. What the hell was my life turning into?

“Just come out with it,” I hissed. “What are you trying to say?”

One eyebrow arched, and he tipped his head ever so slightly.

I recognized that look: As you wish, madam, though you won’t like what you’re about to hear.

“So be it. You can’t leave, Jasmine. It’s not possible now.”