She settled in and imagined a hundred different scenarios that might take place once the helicopter landed, each worse and more terrifying than the last. They were some kind of mafia family and the man she’d saved was their leader. Or the leader’s son. Maybe they were a group of special operations soldiers from America and the man she’d found was like a Navy SEAL. Or a spy for MI5. He was working undercover for Interpol and the bad guys realized he was an agent, cut him up and left him for dead. Or maybe he was a drug lord. A weapons dealer. A secret royal in hiding from assassins and spooks. A prince.
She snorted. Talon looked over. “Are you well?”
“No. I’m being kidnapped.” She rolled her eyes and looked out the window, gasped when Lorien banked the helicopter toward a long, winding drive; toward what she could only describe as a castle, a massive, ridiculous, beautiful castle high on a cliff.
The estate wasn’t just a house—it was a fortress. Sprawling and ancient, built into the cliffs themselves.
Her unease twisted into something sharper as Lorien landed. Talon jumped down helped her get her feet on solid ground. The other man pulled up to the front entrance down below in her car—apparently, he’d been able to keep up with them the whole time, but how the hell he managed that against a helicopter that could fly almost 200 miles per hour, defied explanation.
Maybe Lorien had flown slow.
But hey. Great. Now if she disappeared, her car would vanish with her. Although, who would come looking? No one. She had a new job in a new town and no new friends. Not yet. Not that she’d tell these people that sad truth. If she didn’t show up for work, they’d probably just assume she had gone back to her old life in Edinburgh.
Talon led her inside as Lorien and the dark haired assassin fell into step behind them. The other men vanished somehow. One moment they were there, walking close to her. The next, they…weren’t.
God. Maybe she really was losing her mind.
She stepped inside the castle and looked around. Marble floors. Priceless art in every nook. Stained glass windows built into granite walls filled with stunning, detailed images of dragons and starlight. Flickering firelight making everything even more surreal. Stone archways that looked older than civilization itself.
This was not a mafia house. This was not guns, drugs, or prostitution money.
It was something much, much worse.Old money.Power. Secrets—or bodies—buried so deep they might never be unearthed. These were the kind of people who ruled the world from the shadows.
Her gut clenched.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
CHAPTER 4
Ten minutes later, back ramrod stiff, Raven sat in a high-backed chair across from a man who introduced himself as Erik. No last name. Something about him seemed familiar, but she knew if she’d seen his flowing white-blond hair and ice blue eyes, she would have remembered him. He was too classically gorgeous to overlook, the power that clung to his frame impossible to ignore. As were the bodyguards she’d seen stationed all around the property.
Just like Talon, the arrogant and not talkative kidnapper who’d driven her here. There was something about all these men that set her nerves on edge.
What the hell did they want with a nobody like her?
Her fingers curling into the rich fabric of her sleeves as she resisted the urge to fold her arms protectively across her body. The room was massive—more of a hall than an office—constructed of cold, ancient stone and warmed only by the massive hearth that flickered behind Erik’s desk. It reminded her of a medieval throne room, only more refined, more calculated. Like its owner.
A large crest hung on the wall above the fireplace. Dragons. More dragons.
Erik leaned back in his chair, his ice-blue eyes assessing her in that quiet, calculating way that made her skin prickle with unease. He sat behind an ornate desk, perfectly calm, perfectly unreadable. The kind of man who did not make threats because he never needed to.
He’s deciding something.
The man exuded an air of quiet power, the kind that made people hesitate before speaking, before breathing. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his movements deliberate—controlled with an efficiency that spoke of discipline rather than arrogance. His hair, nearly silver in some light, framed a face that was both striking and unnervingly cold, as if sculpted from ice itself. Eyes the color of a frozen lake—pale blue and sharp as glass—assessed her with cool detachment, unreadable yet heavy with calculation.
He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, but it was the small details that unsettled her—the subtle embroidery along the cuffs, like the threading of an old insignia, the way the fabric moved like it was more than expensive; fit like it had been crafted for him alone. There was a quality about him, something refined yet dangerous, perhaps the way he moved—like a man who never needed to second-guess his place in the world—that sent a shiver of unease through her. He was the kind of man who made decisions quickly, without hesitation. And she had the distinct feeling that right now, he was making a decision about her.
He wasn’therman, the one she’d found and dragged to her car, the one she couldn’t stop thinking about. No. He was one of theothers. The group who had walked into the hospital right that night. The one powerful enough he’d made every nurse,doctor, police officer forget everything about the bleeding man she’d been so desperate to save.
“Miss MacInnes.”
His voice was smooth. Deceptively polite.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “What do you want?”
Erik smiled faintly. “I need your help. I have a very delicate…situation, and I believe you may be the only one who can help me resolve it.”
She exhaled sharply, straightening her shoulders. “If you think I’m going to be intimidated, you don’t know me very well.”
