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“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.”