Chapter Twenty-Six

Rhyse

I should've known better.

Scale bond or not, Emma would never trust me. It didn't matter that I'd saved her life and permanently altered my own to do so. The effort I put in trying to show her a good time, taking myself out of my comfort zone, none of that actually mattered to her.

All she saw was a dragon. And a broken one at that.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut, shaking the frame as I unleashed some of my anger on the inanimate object.

Just a dragon. Nothing more.

"Why did I ever think this was worth trying?" I growled, kicking off my wet shoes, leaving them by the door.

A flick of my finger sent tiny sparks of fire around the room, where they landed on the waiting wicks of candles and sputtered to life. The soft glow was all the light I needed. I wasn't feeling bright and cheery.

Tonight, it was about dark and moody.

Flopping into a chair, I replayed the moment over and over again.

Get your hands off me, you freak!

Freak.

It was a hated word. One I'd lived with for so long. The reason why I'd moved to the far coast in the first place. Leaving family and those who pretended to be friends far behind.

I'd been at peace here. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted. There was no fear of embarrassment, no one to bother me. I'd discovered the anonymity I hadn't known I'd so badly desired.

Then Emma had come and shattered it all. She'd made me think things. Feel things. My dragon was obsessed, unable to focus on anything else but her.

And it had all been a lie.

This entire time, she'd been concealing her true feelings toward me. The ones that would never go away, would never change. The ones where she hated me for what I was.

It was never going to work out between you two. You know that. You're a dragon. She's a human. There's a reason dragons don't live among humans. It's because we aren't compatible.

I nodded to myself. The logic was sound. This was not the place for Emma.

Switching my seat on the couch for the chair in my study, I put pen to paper. It was several days past the original cutoff the sovereign had given me, but I had no doubt she would read it still. Nor would she truly argue. My logic was sound, and I told her the truth.

I did not want Emma there. I knew we still had a link, a bond that could not be broken. But it could fade. With distance, I would know little more than whether she was alive or not.

That was something I could live with, and I wrote as much. I explained my disdain for the humans, my distaste for her feeble mind and its inability to understand the magnitude of what I'd done for her. I explained how she was ungrateful and rude and quick to take a stranger's word over my own.

How could I be expected to mate with someone like this? Someone with such a poor personality?

Pencil scratched across the paper, the only sound besides my slow, deep breathing.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I lifted my head, looking over my shoulder in surprise. Deep into expressing my feelings to the sovereign, I hadn't been aware of my surroundings. It was Emma. I could feel her closeness. Her remorse.

Putting my back to the door, I went back to finish the letter. Why should I answer the door? She didn't want anything to do with me. Which meant I wasn't going to be obligated to give her anything. If she wanted to do it on her own, then she could. I sent that through the link as well, wondering if she'd pick up on it.

She did. A ping of surprise then anger. I could feel all that though it swiftly fell away, once more replaced with remorse. I could feel all that. Along with … her fear?

I laughed. She was afraid now after acting the way she did.

Good!

The pen continued to move across the paper.

"Damn it, Rhyse, I know you're in there! Come to the door. Please!"

The feeling of fear increased.

"Fuck," I muttered, getting up and walking out into the main room.

Relief flooded my mind, but just as I went for the door handle, I paused.

Was this really what I wanted to do? To let her back in after what had happened? After I'd learned the truth about her? I touched my cheek briefly where she'd hit me. The pain of her slap was gone, but I was surprised at how much it still hurt on the inside. To know she'd concealed so much from me.

My hand fell away from the door.

"I'm sorry," Emma called through the door. "Rhyse, I'm sorry. Really, I am. I was losing my mind. I am losing my mind. I lashed out in a panic. It's no excuse, I should never have done it, but I am sorry."

I stared at the door, picturing her on the other side, leaning against it, glani stuck to her skin, smelling of saltwater in the darkness.

"Please," she said. "I don't have anyone else, Rhyse. I'm … I'm scared. Killian and the others just laughed at me, and … and you're the only one who doesn't scare me, Rhyse. I trust you. Somehow."

My chest rose and fell in the silence that followed. She was telling the truth. At least, she seemed to be. Then again, I'd thought that before, hadn't I?

"I remember a bit more," Emma said softly. "That's what happened. I wasn't all there."

I walked away from the door. Back into my study. There I looked at the letter I'd written. Very deliberately I opened the top drawer and tossed the letter inside.

One more chance. I'll give her one more chance. If it turns out she's not telling the truth, I'll send it.

Closing the drawer, I went to the door, and this time, I did not hesitate in pulling it open.

Emma had taken several steps back and was facing the bluffs and the sea beyond. Her shoulders were shaking.

She whirled as light spilled out into the darkness. The candles didn't provide much lighting, but compared to the darkness, it was easily noticeable.

"Rhyse," she whispered, staring up at me with eyes that were red-rimmed and puffy from crying hard.

"Emma."

"You opened the door," she half-sobbed. "I didn't think you were going to."

"Neither did I," I admitted. "I'm still not sure I should have. But I did."

She stared at me. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head slowly. "I don't want you to be sorry."

"You don't?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling between her eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want you to show me I didn't just make a huge mistake."

Emma's throat bobbed as she swallowed, her nerves obvious. "I'll do my best," she whispered. "Is that enough for you?"

"It will have to be," I said, stepping out of the doorframe and gesturing for her to come inside.