Chapter 3
Natasha walked down the road, her feet sore from walking on the rough pavement. She muttered curses under her breath, glaring at her bare toes. "Great. No shoes, no phone, no bag. Just me, my bad luck, and… that damn reaper."
As she scanned the empty road, she let out a frustrated sigh. "What else could go wrong today?" She wouldn't claim to have had a perfect life before now, but it suddenly seemed like all the bad luck in the world decided to pay her a visit today.
Just then, a sleek black SUV rolled to a stop beside her. The window rolled down, and there he was—the mysterious, frustrating, and ridiculously handsome grim reaper.
"Get in," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, folding her arms defiantly. "Didn't realize reapers needed an SUV to ferry souls. Shouldn't you be riding a ghostly chariot or something?"
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't for work, genius. It's a real car. Now get in before I change my mind."
She hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously. "So… this isn't a shortcut to the underworld?"
He smirked, tapping the steering wheel. "I'm real, princess. As long as I don't put my ring on, I can exist like any other mortal. Happy?"
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Fine. Guess I'll do you the honor of gracing your ride with my presence."
The man chuckled as she climbed in. "It's not like you've got another option ."
"Just shut up and drive," she muttered, slamming the door.
The car roared to life as he sped down the road, the engine's hum filling the silence. After a moment, he glanced her way, a teasing grin on his lips. "You're getting bolder. Not scared of me anymore, huh?"
She shot him a sidelong glance. "I know you won't hurt me. Not until you've gotten what you want."
"Smart girl," he mused. "But a little gratitude wouldn't hurt, you know. You'd still be dead if it weren't for me."
Natasha frowned, crossing her arms. "Well… um… thanks," she mumbled under her breath.
"What was that?" He leaned closer, pretending not to hear.
"I said thank you," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Sorry, still didn't catch that."
"I SAID THANK YOU!" she snapped, her voice echoing in the car.
The man bit back a laugh. "Damn, you've got a temper, you didn't have to shout. You're welcome, by the way."
Natasha narrowed her eyes at him but couldn't help noticing the faint amusement in his expression. She tilted her head, studying him. "You know, when you're not doing your scary grim reaper stuff, you almost seem… normal. Almost like a regular guy."
He snorted. "Trust me, princess, I'm anything but normal."
"Why do you keep calling me princess? I have a name, you know. It's Natasha."
He glanced at her, his smirk deepening. "Alright then, Natasha." He dragged out her name, his voice low and smooth, sending an unexplainable flutter through her chest. She coughed, brushing it off.
"Speaking of names," she said quickly, "what's yours?"
"Drogen," he replied simply.
Natasha blinked, then burst into laughter. "Drogen? Really? What kind of name is that? Why not just go all out and call yourself Dragon?"
His brow furrowed, irritation flickering across his face. "So you're making fun of my name now. You've really gotten bolder"
"Who would take a name like yours seriously. Dragon," she teased, a sly grin on her lips.
His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Absolutely."
"Let's see if you're still laughing after this."
Before she could respond, the world shifted. In an instant, Natasha found herself in Drogen's arms, suspended high above the city. The skyline stretched out below them, glittering like a sea of stars.
"Are you insane?" she yelled, clutching his arms. "You might be immortal, but I'm not!"
Drogen smirked, clearly enjoying her panic. "Where's that courage from before? I thought you weren't afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you," she shot back. "I just don't want to die again. Dying hurts, you know!"
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "Arguing with you is surprisingly entertaining."
With a blink, they were back in the SUV, Natasha once again seated and strapped in, her heart still racing. Drogen gripped the wheel as if nothing had happened, the car gliding smoothly down the highway.
Natasha stared at him, her mind reeling. "What the hell was that?"
"Just a little demonstration," he said, his tone light.
"Demonstration of what? How to give someone a heart attack?" she snapped.
He ignored her, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "You're surprisingly calm for someone who's died and come back."
"Calm?" she repeated incredulously. "My brain is still trying to process all that's happened today. Don't you know about the five stages of grief? Denial, anger, bargaining , depression and acceptance. I'll say, I've finally accepted my fate"
Drogen smirked but didn't respond. She relaxed her head on the chair and inhaled deeply. Anyone would have fainted several times from the amount of panic and fear she's gone through today, but she suddenly seemed oddly comfortable around him. Strange. She stole several glances at him, his eyes didn't seem as cold as when they first met. Maybe he wasn't as dangerous as he claimed. And why did he have to be so handsome, her stomach did a weird flip as her gaze lingered. But she quickly turned away. Focus. She scolded herself.
But as Natasha glanced out the window, her brows furrowed as she observed the surroundings. The streets were unfamiliar. "Where are we going? This isn't the way to my house" she asked, where was he taking her? What if he decided to hold her captive and torture her till she obeyed him. What if he had a change of heart and decided to kill her later.
His grin widened, mischief glinting in his eyes. "We're going to my place.