The Dragon's Claim

Chapter 5

Sasha

A knock on the door jolts me from my thoughts, and my heart leaps into my throat. Pan's voice filters in softly, like a calm in the storm. "They're ready for you, Tiny."

I can feel the panic creeping up, the familiar ache of my pulse quickening, but I push it down. No. You can't fall apart now, Sasha. The last thing I need is for them to see me crumble. I can't afford to look weak. I'm here for a reason. I need their help. I take a deep breath. Okay. You can do this. You have to.

Pan steps into the room. His expression mixes reassurance with something unreadable. His quiet intensity radiates in waves. I nod, trying to keep my legs steady as I rise. The tremor in my hands betrays me, but I ignore it. I can't look weak. Not now.

When I reach him, he takes one of my hands gently, and the warmth of his touch helps steady my nerves a little. "Kidevu juu," he whispers, his voice low and comforting. Chin up, time to be brave.

I follow Pan down the hall, my heart hammering in my chest. My nerves feel like they're a live wire inside me, sparking with every step. When we reach the door, Pan gives me a nod before he opens it. The room is quiet, but I can feel the tension hanging thick in the air, as if the moment I walk in, everything will change.

There's no going back now.

I step inside, and three pairs of eyes lock onto me. In the center stands a man, his presence dominating the room. I swallow hard. His eyes are like fire, searching, evaluating, calculating, beautiful, and proud. Power and authority seep off him. Our eyes meet, and my breath hitches. This must be Dorgan; Pan informed me of their leader, Alpha, as they call him. He's the one I have to convince, the one who will decide whether I stay or go. And that thought, that feeling of being judged by someone I've only just met, makes my stomach flip.

To Dorgan's left stands a huge man. When I say huge, I mean it—he towers over me and seems to loom over everyone in the room. His honey-brown eyes are fixed on me, showing a clear disgust. Every part of him radiates a clear message: I'd rather be anywhere but here. His wavy brown hair falls to his shoulders like he stepped out of some wild, untamed mountain range. Kuma, the bear shifter, I think Pan had called him. The guy looks like he could crush me with a single swipe of his bear-sized paw. He stands with his arms crossed and a tense posture, like he’s ready to throw me out the nearest window. Not very welcoming at all.

On the other side of the alpha is someone who couldn't be more different. This man exudes a quiet, almost regal presence. I’d say this person has Native American heritage. His features and long, straight black hair, with gold streaks, remind me of a sunlit river. His eyes—yellow, sharp, and full of scrutiny—lock onto mine, but unlike Kuma, there's no immediate hate. No, his gaze is… calculating. Not unkind, though, but measuring. It's like he's trying to figure me out, as if I'm some puzzle he's waiting to solve.

I want to say something, anything, to break the silence, but my voice falters, trapped in my throat. Keep it together, Sasha. They don't need to see you break.

I don't know what will happen next, but at this moment, I know I can't do this alone. I hope that, for once, someone is willing to believe me.

Dorgan

I stand up from my chair as Pandeo opens the door, stepping aside to let her through. The human—Sasha—enters the room, and I can hear the quickening of her heartbeat before I even see her. It's a subtle sound, but enough to make me realize she's as nervous as I am. Her nerves, however, don't seem to show on the surface. She tilts her chin up slightly, keeps her posture straight, and holds her hands steady at her sides. That's not the behavior of a frightened civilian.

I tilt my head slightly, considering her. This is no ordinary girl. She's highly trained. And as much as I want to deny it, I can't ignore the nagging feeling that Kuma's reservations might be justified. There's something in the air, an undercurrent of danger that I can't quite place. And her scent, a soft vanilla, with is that rose? I push that aside for now. I need to focus.

She locks eyes with me, and I feel something stirring—a jolt of recognition or surprise. Her eyes, deep brown and fierce, feel like they're cutting right through me. I blink, and I'm struck by her beauty, something I hadn't expected. She's gorgeous—smooth olive skin, wild curly dark brown hair, and big chocolate eyes. Her lips are full and pulled in a straight line in concentration. I wonder what they look like when she smiles. Darn. It takes me a second longer than it should to tear my gaze away, and when I do, I catch a glimpse of the other men in the room. Kuma's lips curl in a barely contained snarl. I know I must be flushed, so I force myself to take a step back, trying to regain control. Focus, Dorgan. Focus.

"Please take a seat, Miss Malee," I say. I try to sound calm, but my words come out harsher than I meant. She looks around the room once more, her gaze shifting between my men, and I can see her weighing her options. Finally, she turns to Pan, giving him a single nod. With that, she moves to sit, positioning herself in the far corner. Pan takes his place, standing right behind her, ever the protector. I hear Kuma gnashing his teeth behind me somewhere, a low growl rumbling in his chest, and I let out a deep sigh. This is going to be difficult.

"Sasha will do," she says, her voice smooth but deeper than I anticipated. There's an edge to it, like she's had to learn how to speak through fear. I find myself taken off guard again. I have used her father's surname, and I can tell that she's trying to distance herself from it, from him. Maybe Kuma's anger is misdirected after all, but there's still something in the air I can't shake.

"Alright then," I say, forcing myself to focus. My mind is still racing, trying to process the situation. My people, their safety—it's all that matters. I glance around the room at my men. Kuma is barely holding it together. Pan is silent but alert, his body tense. Stay calm, I remind myself. Stay in control.

I can feel Kuma's presence moving in behind me, his protective instinct on high alert. The growl in his throat is loud enough to make the air around us thick with tension. A rumble escapes from Pan's chest, but he stays where he is, sensing the same shift in the atmosphere. I catch Sasha's gaze as she looks over at Kuma, responding to his glare with one of her own—fierce and unyielding. It's almost like watching two predators sizing each other up. I don't like this, but I know I need to push through it.

"What brings you to our doorstep?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation moving before things escalate. I don't want to give Kuma any reason to make a move, and I can feel the storm brewing. Sasha takes a deep breath and looks at me, her eyes piercing and intense.

"My life is in danger. I came for refuge... I heard you provide it to whoever needs it. The General and the NNA are out for my blood."

Her voice is steady and unwavering, even as Kuma growls from behind me. I can sense her fear, yes, but there's something else too—strength. She's not cowering. She's not pleading. She stands firm, even with the tension in the room so thick that someone could cut it with a knife.

"You mean to tell us you are running from your father and his little minions?" Kuma spits, his voice dripping with venom. "You think we'll believe that you're in danger from your beloved Papa? Why should we help you, humana?"

Sasha doesn't flinch; her gaze never leaves me. "I was under the impression that you provide sanctuary to all who need it, to humans and shifters alike?" she challenges, her voice sharp but not disrespectful. It's a bold move, but I'm impressed.

Before I can say anything, Kuma's rage flares. He moves past me, his fists slamming onto the table with a resounding crash.

"We had to create this sanctuary because of your people," he growls, low and threatening. "Because of your father, now you want to come here and… and…"

For a moment, I see a flicker of fear in Sasha's eyes, and her heart rate spikes. I can feel her pulse racing now, like a drumbeat against my heightened senses.

I place a hand on Kuma's shoulder, calming him down as best as I can, and I hear him take a deep breath. His jaw clenches, but he steps back, though the tension is still palpable.

"Kuma," I explain calmly, trying to defuse the situation. "Let her explain."

I glance at Pandeo, who's now growling under his breath at Kuma. He moves closer to Sasha, but she shakes her head. She doesn’t need reassurance.

Kuma mutters under his breath, still unhappy. But at least he has stepped back—for now.

I take a deep breath, trying to move past the tension. "Why do you think your life is in danger?" I ask, shifting the conversation back to the matter at hand. I need to hear her side of the story, no matter how unlikely it seems.

I can see the storm in her eyes. And somehow, I know that what she says next will change everything for all of us.