Chapter 5 - Some Like To Wrap It

Rayna

My reality froze, taken hostage by the deep colors of his eyes. For a moment, I forgot to breathe, to move, to talk, or to even blink. I felt helpless, and I didn't like it.

The room I was in vanished and the same dark sky heavily adorned with stars and auroras replaced it. I easily felt the slap of cold wind on my face, even though I knew this wasn't real.

'Rayna...' That growling sound of my name again. This time, it gave me a shiver.

"Who are—no, what are you?" I asked.

And I am getting crazy for actually interacting with this voice in my head.

'Mine...'

"Mi...ne?" My thoughts cried out. Was this creature telling me its name or about mining because that was certainly off. I am a soldier, not a miner.

'You. Are. Mine.'

Oh... so that's what it meant, effectively disregarding my earlier question about its identity.

"Nobody owns me," was my strong reply. "You don't own me."

'I do...' the growl intoned. 'And I'll make you see it.'

Yup. I am going crazy.

Just then, something hard bumped behind me. I was back in reality, in the room that instant blinking all the weirdness away.

"Oh! Sorry, boss! I didn't know you were standing behind the door." George half-entered the room with a white tool kit in hand. "Although, I knocked before opening the door. Didn't you hear it?"

"I didn't," I replied. I was highly conscious of how it sounded rushed and edgy.

"Well, anyway, Colonel Garrison wants you to have this." He held the box up and handed it to me.

A first aid kit? My mind stressed.

It wouldn't have offended me seeing this since it would come in handy if untoward accidents would happen, but no. He meant to give me this because he knew I knew military personnel stash condoms inside the secret compartment.

The colonel was really pushing it. Damn it.

"That's thoughtful of him," Mr. Windstorm's voice broke me from my vindictive thoughts against my superior.

George and I looked at him at the same time, but out of the two of us, it was I who had a hard time maintaining a stare. His pools still affected me, making my insides flip, and turn, and tremble.

"Tell Colonel Garrison my thanks, George," he continued. The latter nodded and tipped his head. Then Mr. Windstorm turned to me. "And Ms. Chase, please take the kit and close the door. I want to talk to you."

George and I exchanged nods after I took the kit. Once the door closed, I lifted the object up, tried to hold a steady gaze towards him and asked, "Where do you want to put this, Sir?"

His eyelids dipped briefly, then back to me. "In my room. I might need the contents in it."

I was positive he meant the medicines inside and not the condoms. He couldn't have known of the secret compartment anyway since he wasn't military. Right?

After crossing the room, I opened what I assumed was the master's and stepped inside. Finding a study table, I placed the kit down, took a deep breath to restart myself, and returned to face Mr. Windstorm again. I wasn't immune to his intense eyes, but at least this time, I was more in control of myself. More composed.

"Ms. Chase, do you know why you were assigned to me?" he asked, still with his hood on.

Such a weird CEO indeed.

"I am the best fit for the position, Sir." I straightened my stance and directed my eyes to the window ahead and not to him like I was trained to do. My commanding officers said never to make eye contact to a person with higher authority unless they commanded it. I wanted to stay true to that. "I can do everything: ensure your safety, protect you, and care for you."

"Are you a military nurse?" he furthered.

"No, Sir, but I am trained to deliver aid to a variety of medical conditions."

"Were you forced to do this job then?"

My brows twitched ever so slightly. Damn. Why did he have to ask this personal question?

"No, Sir." I lied. I had to.

"Good. So, you know what you're signing into." From my periphery, he tapped the side of his wheelchair as a way to point out the situation he was in. I wasn't bothered by this. What I was more bothered about was the way his hand moved. He made the simple act of tapping so fluid, so special.

So...godlike.

Heck. I need to better compose myself.

"Yes, sir," I answered, but I was suddenly aware how much I was blushing. In haste, I tried to control it, but it probably turned into a mildly constipated look.

"Wipe that look off your face, Ms. Chase," he pointed out with a hint of a tease in his voice. "I can perfectly take care of myself, and that includes bathing and changing clothes."

My words flew out of my mouth before I could filter it. "I wouldn't hesitate to help you, Sir, should you...need...it." The last of my words stammered when I saw his eyes dial a shade darker.

"I'll take that as a promise, Ms. Chase," he replied. "It's going to be a long three days. We never know what's going to happen."

I couldn't believe how this man—from a three-to-five-word reply earlier—became so talkative now. Was he just observing us during the flight? Was he trying to gauge me first before opening up to me?

"I am trained to be prepared, Sir," was my generic reply.

He groaned.

"Stop calling me that. Call me by my given name. Axel. My name is Axel Windstorm."

"I am not allowed to be in first-name basis with my employer, Sir," I pointed out, burying the desire to say his name out loud. I wanted to. Heck, I really wanted to do it and I couldn't explain why.

"Yes, correct. I am your boss for the time being, so do what I say." The way he commanded it—with grace, with power—I couldn't argue anymore.

"Yes, Mr. Windstorm." But I opted for a little tweak of my own, using his family name instead of his first name.

He released a sigh—a long, audible one. "It's a good start. I won't force you if you're not ready yet."

Somehow, I couldn't help but think he was giving it some double meaning.

"I'll be in my room if Colonel Garrison wants to start the tour," he informed just as his wheelchair moved forward and right.

"Sir, yes—" I quickly stopped myself when I saw his head jerk toward me. "Yes, Mr. Windstorm," I corrected.

With this, he continued inside the master's and closed the door.

Finally free from his greenish-violet eyes, I half-sprinted to my room, which was just neighbor's with his. I kept myself inside for the next one and a half hours schooling, forcing myself to wear an even neutral face as if I wasn't racked by this CEO's presence. As if I hadn't just had another vision of the creature with an animalistic growl who claimed me to be its—no.

His.