beyond boundaries

chapter 5 (Lily)

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the unfamiliar, oversized windows, casting a golden glow across the room. For a split second, I thought I was back home tiny apartment, and all of this-Callan, the jungle, the strange island-had just been a dream.

But nope. I was definitely still here.

The bed was ridiculously large, and everything around me felt too elegant, like I'd stumbled into some ancient castle that didn't know what a modern bedspread looked like. The sheets were soft, the kind that must have cost a fortune, yet they were a deep, earthy green, almost blending in with the dense forest outside. It was beautiful, really... if not for the fact that I was completely out of the element.

I quickly changed into what I hoped would pass for acceptable attire-yesterday's jeans and tank top, yet again. My choices were severely limited, but hey, I figured Callan could handle it.

I sighed and went for it, slipping it on before heading to the door. The mansion felt quiet-too quiet. I half expected to bump into Callan, but I didn't see him anywhere. Probably off doing something important-like being the ruler of this entire island, keeping everyone in line, or whatever it was he did.

As I walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but notice how... different everything was. The hallways were wide, the walls decorated with strange tapestries that looked like they belonged in a museum. The scents were foreign-wood, herbs, something earthy that was too deep to name.

And then I heard it-the sound of footsteps.

I froze. Callan. He must've been coming back from whatever morning ritual he had. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know why he made me nervous-maybe it was the way he carried himself like he owned the whole damn island. Or the way his eyes seemed to see through me, always calculating. Always watching.

I turned to move quickly, but ended up tripping over the hem of my ridiculous tunic and crashing into a vase.

"Shit!" I muttered as the vase teetered. Luckily, it didn't fall. But I wasn't exactly making a good impression on his fancy mansion.

The sound of his chuckle made me snap my head up.

Callan was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, that damn smirk of his in place. "You need help with that?" he asked, his voice amused.

"I think I've got it," I muttered, straightening up. "Maybe. I wasn't planning on breaking anything... yet."

He pushed off the frame, a smooth, almost predator-like movement. His presence was magnetic, and it sent an electric buzz through me. "You might want to be careful in here. The mansion's expensive."

I shot him a look, feeling my cheeks flush. "Right. Because the last thing I need is to ruin your very expensive, ancient vase." I eyed the intricate design warily."Don't worry," he said, his voice low.

There was something in his tone-something teasing but a little dangerous-that made my stomach do a flip. I wasn't sure if I should be irritated or flattered, but my body wasn't exactly listening to my brain.

"Anyway, you hungry?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded quickly. "Starving."

"Follow me." He motioned toward the hallway, and I followed reluctantly. It was hard to ignore the way my pulse quickened when I was near him. I mean, I wasn't blind. He was handsome in that 'too perfect to be real' kind of way. His eyes, dark and watchful, were unnerving but... not entirely unwelcoming, jawline sharp. He was the kind of man who made you feel small and important at the same time. Like you mattered, but you were also a pawn in his game.

He led me into what looked like a grand dining room. The room was warm, inviting in its own way, with tall windows looking out into the jungle. The morning light filtering in through the glass made everything seem brighter, almost magical.

I barely knew the guy, yet here I was, his new guest, being called to breakfast like I'd somehow stepped into a historical drama.

I looked around, noticing a spread of fruit, bread, and other things I didn't recognize filling the table. "I, uh, wasn't expecting breakfast to look so... medieval."

He raised an eyebrow. "Medieval?"

"You know, like... 'Game of Thrones' style," I said, trying not to laugh at his baffled expression.

"Game of what?" he repeated, sounding both genuinely curious and vaguely insulted.

"Never mind," I muttered, grabbing a seat opposite him. I reached for a piece of fruit, something that looked vaguely like an apple but with a slightly foreign texture, and took a tentative bite. It tasted sweet, with a hint of something earthy that felt oddly grounding.

I swallowed, a little caught off guard by how close he'd leaned in without actually moving. The air felt a little thicker as he spoke again. "This place is unpredictable. You'll need someone to show you how to survive here."

My eyebrow arched. "And you're just the guy for the job, right?"

"Obviously," he replied, as if there could be no other answer. His confidence was maddening-and maybe a little intriguing. He clearly had a lifetime's worth of knowledge about this place that I could only dream of.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. "But I have to say," he murmured, "for someone who was so lost yesterday, you're taking this surprisingly well. Most outsiders would still be in shock."

"Well," I shrugged, popping another bite of fruit in my mouth, "maybe I'm not most outsiders."

"Any tips for surviving here without getting myself killed?"

Callan's eyes flicked up at me. There was that damn glint again. "You already survived. The rest is just details." His smirk deepened. "But if you're asking, don't wander off alone. This place has a way of making you forget how dangerous it can be."

I nodded slowly. "Noted. Any more advice?"

He thought about it for a second, tapping his finger on the table. "Don't try too hard to fit in. Just... be yourself."

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't exactly seem the 'be yourself' type."

Callan's gaze softened for just a moment. "I'm not here to judge. I'm here to make sure you don't get eaten by something bigger than you."

"I'm not that small," I muttered under my breath. But when I met his eyes, it was hard to hold onto the bravado. Something about the way he looked at me made my throat tighten.

"Maybe not," he said, his tone low, "but we both know I'm a hell of a lot bigger."