Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
But I must restrain myself. A tincture of time–that is what this situation requires.
Or so I believed.
5
Tabitha
I slam the door to my bedroom and pace around the length of it. The nerve of this guy.
He’s nuts.
No, not nuts. He’s just truly medieval. He has no idea how insane his way of thinking is in this day and age.
Part of me can’t blame him. The part of me that’s fascinated by him. Drawn to the devilishly handsome looks and the suave manners. The incredible fact that he is actually a dragon!
On some level, I’m already in love with the dragon I saw in my dream.
But I’m not the sort of woman who can be bought. Nor am I one you can keep in a cage.
My mother may be into both of those scenarios but not me.
And as I sat there listening to his nonsense about me getting used to him and living here, I realized I don’t have to wait for Rafe and the guys to find me. Hell, they probably don’t even know I’m in trouble yet.
The dragon showed me the way out of the castle in my vision. For the first time in a long time, I’m going to follow my instincts and allow my vision to guide me.
I check the window above the tub, but it’s stuck closed. Not here. If I angle my head I can almost see that parapet hugging the outer wall of the castle. I can't access it from here, but in my dream, I climbed through a different window. One in the hall, next to a suit of armor.
I grab boots and the warmest coat I can find. I don’t mind the cold–my friends tease me about wearing skirts and short sleeves even in the snow–but winter in Romania means freezing temperatures. I add a few more layers–a wool sweater, a long-sleeved shirt. A pair of down ski-weather-worthy joggers over the leggings. Might as well layer up.
I pad down the hall in the sensible walking boots that I chose for my excursion. I round the corner, and my breath catches. There it is–the red carpet, the suit of armor, the bench against the window.
Unlike in my dream, the window is a pain to unlatch and move outward. I'm considering wrenching the arm from the suit of armor and using it to bash open the glass when the window hinge creaks, and it shudders open.
It’s easy enough to step on the bench and stick my head out. The wind tugs at my hair. This is a lot scarier than my dream, but there is a ledge I can climb onto. This is it. This is my way out of the castle.
I don't have a phone or my wallet or purse or anything. I’ll have to get out and away and find someone who can help me. They might not speak English, but between the few words I know in German and Dutch, and my mediocre Italian, maybe I can get them to understand. At least let me make a phone call.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. First I must escape.
Stepping onto the ledge takes a lot more willpower than it did in my dream. The cold air is a dagger in my lungs. My face freezes in the wind. One gust could pick me up and blow me over the edge. If I were an ancient archer, these working conditions would suck. How in the heck did ancient warriors stand it?
I crouch as I inch down the icy ledge, hugging the side of the castle. My steps are tremulous. I need to be careful. I have a lot more vertigo than I did in my dream.
“This is nuts,” I mumble through frozen lips. It’s comforting to talk to myself even if the howling wind carries my voice away. “Why am I clinging to the side of the castle on a cold winter day? Oh, you know, the usual. A madman kidnapped me and imprisoned me and gave me too many orgasms to count. Then I dreamed of a dragon and a treasure-filled cave who showed me how to escape!”
I scoot a millimeter to the left, my eyes on the fog in front of me. The castle is so high up, I’m literally in a cloud.
“Too bad he didn't provide a magic carpet to fly me away.”
I reach an area where there are no merlons to protect me from the wind or the drop. The parapet is narrower here, too. Parts of it have crumbled away. I get down on my butt and scoot stone by stone.
The gray mist blows past me, revealing snatches of white and brown earth to my right, way, way too far below. I avert my eyes, so I can keep breathing.
“Oh, that's right, dragons don't need a carpet to fly. They have wings.”