Chapter Ten

Emma

E verything was warm. And bouncing.

Bouncing?

Forcing my eyes open, I found myself looking at the underside of Rhyse's goateed chin.

Well, this is odd.

The next thing I became aware of was my head resting on his chest. The warmth of his body reaching out and wrapping me in its embrace. Somehow, he'd found the one place not covered in blood to rest my head.

Things came back to me in a flash, and I was abruptly all too aware of being carried in his arms. He held my deadweight with ease. I shivered, fighting back the urge to bite my lip at the demonstration of his strength. There was no tremble in his muscles, and judging by the lack of buildings nearby, we were outside the village.

How long had he been carrying me?

I opened my mouth to tell Rhyse he could put me down. Then closed it. Truthfully, I didn't want him to put me down. A firm promise of safety lay like a blanket over my worries, draping my brain in its touch. Security. Protection.

It took me a moment to realize it wasn't me thinking these things but rather the essentials of Rhyse's emotions trickling through whatever connection.

"You're awake," he said as I stiffened in alarm, trying hard not to freak out at the implications that he was in my mind . It had been a challenge before passing out, and it was a challenge again now.

"Yes. You can put me down if you want," I said.

Rhyse grunted and kept carrying me. It was cute but not what I wanted at the moment. Not with his mind inside my own.

"Please," I added. "I feel okay."

It wasn't much of a lie. Truthfully, I did feel mostly all right. Tired and hungry, but otherwise, I was doing okay. Even my head was no longer bothering me if I looked around too fast.

Except for the lack of memories. I still couldn't recall most of the past year.

"One more time," I said, straightening up, unable to stop myself from running fingers over the scale adhered to my flesh.

Even the perimeter of it was looking better, the reddish outline having faded back toward the soft white of my skin.

"About what?" he asked when I didn't continue, too lost in examining myself.

"How am I alive?"

"The scale will transfer some of my DNA to you. It seals the wound and heals it."

"But …" I lifted my arm. There was a bit of stiffness, and I could only lift it about three-quarters of the way before it got too much. "How can I do that ? Already? I had a gaping hole in my arm, Rhyse. A hole ."

"Dragons heal faster than humans. Much faster. Now, you do, too."

The way he said it … "You're not just talking about this wound, are you?"

He shook his head. "No."

Something occurred to me as I parsed this information, filing it away with all the other new things I was learning. Like dragons . That would take some getting used to. Again, apparently.

"If it heals me, then why are my memories still gone? Shouldn't they have come back?"

"Physical damage is one thing," he said, looking away uncomfortably while we walked, the path leading up toward the bluffs now. Below to our left, the earth fell away vertically until it met the sea, the blue-green mass of waves stretching out to the horizon. "If allowed to, the damage will be healed. You were hurt before, however, and now, there's no telling what's physical and what may be mental."

"Are you calling me psycho?"

He rolled his eyes, and I felt the frustration in my head, frustration that wasn't my own. "That is not what I said, so stop attacking me, will you? The brain is beyond fickle. Nobody knows how it works exactly. Especially when it comes to memories. I'm sorry for giving you your life back but not your memories. Next time, I'll try to do better."

With that, Rhyse set off again.

Cursing myself, I ran after him. "Wait, Rhyse. Hold on. I'm sorry. I'm not having an easy time with this. With all of it. You're in my head ! How is that even possible?"

"After food," he said, gesturing to continue heading up the bluffs. "And showers."

"I don't have any clean clothes," I pointed out.

"Then you can wear mine. But you're getting out of those and into something else. No excuses," he said.

Again came the surge of protectionism flowing into me as he spoke. It was quite unnerving to both be able to hear it and feel it. Yet it was also relaxing. Because he meant it, and I knew he meant it. All Rhyse wanted was to look out for me. To keep me safe.

And it was working.

We walked up the rest of the bluffs in silence. I had a million questions, but he didn't seem interested in answering them. So, instead, we shared companionable silence. Whether that was because of our mental connection or something else, I wasn't sure.

But I didn't hate it.

"Here," he said at last, heading left off the main path onto a barely maintained trail.

As we had ascended, the path veered away from the bluffs, keeping a safe distance between any walkers and the edge. We were heading toward the edge once more. Only, this time, we were descending down, the path meandering sharply to the right and then back to the left in an S-shape, serving to hide our destination from the path itself.

"Are you sure? It doesn't feel like anyone lives here," I observed, noticing the lack of care that went into the path, which made it feel like little more than a worn corridor in the rock

"That's the point," he said, heading around one more bend as the rocks loomed higher on either side of us, reaching above my head.

A moment later, the path spit us out onto a flat ledge easily half an acre or more in size. Straight ahead, stairs led down to a basement entrance to a modest, one-story brick house. But that wasn't what drew my eye.

"Wow," I whispered as Rhyse bypassed what I had figured to be the front door to head around out back.

He glanced back at me then out across the ledge. "You like it?"

"What a view," I whispered, mesmerized by the seemingly unending horizon of the ocean far in the distance. The sun was on its downward track and already beginning to light up the ocean. In the distance, clouds were forming, but they just added to the panoramic view.

"That it is."

"I can just imagine breakfasts out here as the sun comes overhead and lights the horizon," I murmured.

"And the sunsets are killer, too," he confirmed with a smile.

Drinking deep the saltwater air, I started to wander closer to the edge.

"Shower and food first," he said. "You look like something out of a cheesy horror movie, and I'm not much better. Let's get clean, then we can eat out there if you'd like."

"Okay." I let myself be led inside.

The house was roomier than it looked, with high ceilings and open rooms. A large sitting area dominated the rear, allowing for beautiful unobstructed views out across the sea. Beyond that was a kitchen to the right as we entered from out back, and to the left was a set of rooms that I took to be sleeping quarters.

"The only shower within a room is mine," he said apologetically. "But you have this one to yourself. There are towels in there. I'll set some clothing on the floor outside. Just leave yours in the tub. We'll figure out what to do later, okay? I'm going to shower, and I'll have food started by the time you're done."

I nodded, entering the bathroom and locking the door behind me. I didn't sense any maliciousness on his part, but I wasn't risking it either. Then I stripped, peeling the dried bloody clothing off me.

As I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and gasped.