Chapter Five

Rhyse

"I 'm going insane, aren't I?"

The phrasing and inflection in the way Emma said it shot me back in time to earlier that day and my meeting with the sovereign when I'd voiced nearly the same protest.

"No, Rhyse, this isn't insane," the sovereign said patiently. Her eyes, a mirror of my own in many ways, did not share the humor in her reply. She was serious. Deadly so.

"My sovereign," I said with complete and utter respect. "I did not mean to be disrespectful, I just don't know if I can do this. I've already failed you once. Now, you're asking me to do this?"

The leader of all dragons waved a long-fingered hand dismissively. "You have not failed, Rhyse. The task of finding Vicek's yacht was near impossible. Even he did not know where it went down. Besides, you only fail if the mission is over. You are to keep looking."

I nodded sharply at that. I hadn't intended to stop anyway.

"Now, about your next mission."

"Is that how you intend to convince me?" I asked, chuckling politely. "By phrasing it as a mission, a challenge, to provoke my competitive nature?"

"Why? Is it working?" she teased lightly.

I glared. "This is not for me."

"I think it's perfect."

"I don't want to have a partner. I'm content as I am, my sovereign. I cannot do this."

The intent in those green eyes firmed. "You can, Rhyse, and you will. You will because I am not giving you a choice. You will because you'll want to."

I tossed my head back and laughed. "Want to take a human as a mate? Me? Are you sure you know me?"

"Are you sure you know you?" she replied softly.

I hadn't been able to find the words to respond to that. Now, hearing Emma say the same thing, I wondered if perhaps the sovereign would take back her words.

Because I certainly did not want to deal with this short human and her ridiculous "memory loss" issue. She had been fine until a few minutes ago. We had come here from the palace after my dragon had decided that, of the human volunteers, this was the one it detested the least. Now, I was supposed to believe it when she scrunched up her cute little oval face and told me she couldn't remember a thing?

I wasn't buying it.

"You can't expect me to believe this," I muttered. "I caught you. You didn't hit your head."

She looked at me, her wide eyes the color of the sky she'd been staring at. "How did I get here?" she asked tightly.

"You volunteered," I said dryly. "Which I guess you've also forgotten?"

The blood drained from her face, further emphasizing the little mole just at the top of her left eyebrow, half hidden by the hairs until she frowned, bringing it closer to the center. She swayed, and I prepared to leap forward and catch her if she passed out again.

Shock gave way to fear, her pupils dilating then constricting as panic took over and her lower lip quivered.

I had to admit, if she was faking, she was doing an excellent job.

" Volunteered?" she hissed in amazement.

"Yes."

She shook her head, then winced. "Why would I do something like that? I'd like to go home, please."

"I would assume you did it for the same reason the other women did."

"Other women?"

"Eight of you," I explained. "You volunteered to come here, to live with us. To help end the war between my people and yours."

"War?" she squeaked, her pale pink lips curling inward into a flat line.

"Yes."

Emma crossed her arms under her chest in a distinctly uncomfortable manner. I watched, waiting for her reaction and what she would do next. I could not decipher if she was being truthful or not about the lack of memory.

I should never have let the sovereign talk me into this.

Had I let her talk me into it? Was this a mission as she'd said? Or was it, as I was beginning to suspect, a sort of punishment for not succeeding in the mission she'd given me at the onset of the war. That would make much more sense.

"I don't believe you," she said.

"Okay."

She glared at me.

"I'm not here to convince you. If you want to stop pretending, we can continue on. Or you can keep this up, and we can play all sorts of games."

"What makes you think I'm pretending … whoever you are?" she asked with a sniff.

"My name is Rhyse," I said. "And I think you're pretending because we've been talking for nearly an hour already. I think you decided you'd made a bad decision and are hoping this memory loss thing is your ticket out of here."

"I don't remember!" she shouted.

I rolled my eyes. Maybe giving in to her would help make time go by faster. "Fine. Let's see what you do remember. What do you think today is?"

She told me.

"So, you're missing nearly nine months, then. Fall, winter, most of spring. Just gone from your head."

"I …" She looked queasy, and her legs wobbled unsteadily.

In a flash, I closed the distance, helping her down. She truly did look green in the cheeks.

"Nine months," she whispered. "Where did my life go?"

I wasn't sure I could discount her as lying. It was becoming too realistic.

"Yes," I said. "You must have bumped your head at some point before you came here. Before I saw you. I don't know why its only affecting you now , though. That part I can't explain."

"Bumped my head?" She frowns. "Maybe."

"Run your fingers over your head. Gently. Maybe there's a mark."

She did that, pushing her fingers slowly through the tangles of blonde hair that fell in natural soft curls. I admired the way the hair color complimented her light skin, a stark contrast to my permanent tan.

"Ow." A look of pain filled her face as she touched behind her left ear.

"Let me see," I said, gently parting the hair with a whistle.

"What is it? What do you see?"

"A really nasty bruise," I said, examining the dark purple splotch. The edges were turning yellow, which indicated it was starting to heal, but it still looked painful. "Maybe you aren't faking it after all."

"I told you." She glared at me. "Why would you even think that?"

I sighed. "Emma. Ten minutes ago, we were talking. Everything was fine. I know you don't remember, but try to picture a scenario where you're in my shoes and that happens to you. The other person acting perfectly fine until suddenly, with no indication of anything, boom , they claim they forget everything? You wouldn't be the slightest bit suspicious?"

The left side of her mouth worked. "Maybe," she admitted just a bit sourly.

I wanted to yell at her reluctance to even admit that much.

"So, what now?" Emma asked. "How do I get home?"

"That's not something I can control," I told her. "You came here as part of the peace treaty. Even if you don't remember it now, you volunteered to do so. Not going home was part of the deal, I think."

Which meant I was stuck with her. It was my turn to be sour.

"Oh." She seemed to shrink even smaller than her already short size, hands clutched around her stomach.

At least she was attractive. I eyed her soft body. She was thick but not quite curvy. Large breasts, thick butt, I really couldn't find much to complain about there. If I was going to be forced to put up with her, I gave thanks she was very easy on the eyes.

I still would prefer the solitude. But that wasn't an option. Not right now, at least. Perhaps, in time, I could convince the sovereign to take her back.

"Let me take you to my place," I said. "You can rest for a moment, get some food. Then, we'll go from there. How does that sound?"

She hesitated.

"I give you my word that nothing will happen to you. I will keep you safe. You have nothing to fear from me."

My dragon growled its agreement, startling me with the sudden intrusion after being quiet since I'd first laid my eyes upon her.

Emma looked up at me, her eyes the color of the sky on a crystal-clear summer day. The intelligence bound within them gave her an additional depth. One I felt most would probably miss from simply admiring her appearances.

"You want me to go with you? To your house? Where?"

I pointed down past the docks and up the hills to the bluffs beyond. "That way."

In the back of my mind, my dragon crowed its first victory. I didn't know why, considering she hadn't even said yes yet. Besides, even if she did agree, I had every intention of sending Emma back to the sovereign at the first availability.

I was better off alone.