Page 26 of Fated to the Grumpy Dragon
“Damn,” I cursed, realizing I had no other option but to stay.
Again, that sense of déjà vu accompanied me as I went inside, choosing the better of two bad options.
I just hoped that whatever my subconscious was trying to tell me, it wasn’t too bad.
The déjà vu worsened.
Chapter Twelve
Emma
Iawoke to the inescapable feeling of something missing.
Opening my eyes, I tried to figure out just what my brain was trying to tell me, what bit of information it had cataloged but refused to spell out in clear detail.
My first thought was the sound of the surf. The roar of the waves crashing against the rocks was a constant … when I was outside. I’d learned last night that Rhyse’s house was soundproofed rather well, and the bedroom even more so.
Rhyse.
I tossed aside the surprisingly plush comforter and somewhat reluctantly got out of the insanely comfortable guest bed. Glancing down at it, I had to admit that I’d done Rhyse a disservice with my expectations of his place.
From the comfort of the couches where we’d sat in silence the night prior, while the flames crackled and popped in the fireplace on the north wall, to the sheets and bed itself, it was all ofmuchhigher quality than it seemed. The same with the build of his house.
When I’d first come in, I’d thought it typically male. Spartan and mostly bare. That was until I’d looked a little closer. He still wasn’t the type to own a lot or clutter everything up. What hedidhave, however, was of high quality, and it also meant something to him. It wasn’t just there to take up space. It had meaning.
Like the enormous conch shell on a table against the west window wall overlooking the sea. It was one of the biggest I’d ever seen. Rhyse had told me the story about how he’d gone diving for the first time after moving to the coast and found it within minutes. A sure sign that this was where he was meant to be, he’d said.
My brain continued to focus on Rhyse as I shuffled out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen.
I frowned at the empty area. Empty and quiet.
The entire house was quiet. Was that what had awoken me? The absence of noise? Rhyse wasn’t a loud individual, and besides, I knew he wasn’t here because—
I jerked upright, my search for coffee momentarily forgotten as realization struck like a lightning bolt.
He wasn’t here because I couldn’t feel him. It was my mind that was quiet. Silent, without a steady stream of emotions emanating from another person.
My fingers rubbed the scale through my shirt as I focused. He was alive, I could feel that much, but otherwise, he was distant. Too far away for much to come through.
Rifling through his cupboards now, I marveled at how fast I’d gotten used to that sensation. Of being linked with him. It was to the point I almost missed it. Almost.
I found some instant coffee and a mug, and after an indeterminable wait, hot water began to pour from the faucet.
After mixing it, I breathed in the aroma. It wasn’t great. But itwascoffee. I made a mental note to tell Rhyse that if I was staying for any long period of time, better coffee was amust. Nonnegotiable.
Thinking of Rhyse, I again found myself running my fingers over the scale adhered to my shoulder. It was slightly warmer than my skin but not by much. It was even beginning to exhibit some elasticity to it like my skin did. Yesterday, it had simply been pliable.
Was it adapting to my body? I was certainly adapting to it. I could move my entire shoulder freely now in any direction. No impingements, no pain, nothing. In fact, after a good night’s rest and a second helping of food last night, I felt better than I’d had in a long time. Stronger. More energetic. Less achy.
A vague sense of distraction caressed my brain as I focused on the scale that had saved my life. I wasn’t sure what Rhyse was doing, but he wasn’t very focused, whatever it was.
I considered the scale, the link between us, and the implications of it all as I drank my coffee. I didn’t like most of what I came up with.
It was around halfway through the second cup, as I sat on the edge of the bed getting dressed, when a wave of eagerness that didn’t belong to me swept through my mind.
He was back.
Getting up, I hurried to the plateau. Yanking open the door, I stopped short.
