Philip Graves

You appeared out of thin air—no warning, no sound, just dropped right in front of him. All around was desert, a military camp, and Shadow Company vehicles. Everything felt terrifyingly real.

Graves’s first reaction wasn’t surprise, but cold, sharp alertness. He drew his gun on you at once, a faint smile still on his lips, but his eyes made it clear: you didn’t belong here.

“Who the hell are you? And how’d you get here?”

You opened your mouth to explain about traveling through time and worlds, but knew no one would believe it.

He wouldn’t report you or lock you up right away. Instead, he kept you within his sight, closing in slowly.

“Sweetheart, you don’t belong here. Don’t lie to me. I’ll find out everything.”

The disorientation, fear, and helplessness of being thrown into this world clashed with his overwhelming, controlling, dangerous charm.