Page 13 of Fated to the Grumpy Dragon
All of Rhyse’s politeness and handsomeness had welcomed me into the Dragon Isles, as he said it was called. It would be easy to simply fall in line and do as he wanted, go with him to his home and accept my fate. That was what he wanted.
Which was why I chose not to believe any of it and instead make my escape.
I passed several large boats, filled with various nets, rods, fishing hooks, harpoons, and other gear necessary for larger scale fishing operations. Then I spied what I wanted. A large cabin cruiser. Hopping down to the deck as fast as I could, I went for the steering wheel.
“Keys, keys, keys, where are the keys?” I muttered, searching frantically but coming up short. “Shit.”
And then I was up, heading down the docks again, refusing to look over my shoulder to see where Rhyse was. The wooden slats creaked and groaned while the water beneath gently lapped against the pilings driven deep into the ocean bed.
“Emma.”
I stumbled to a halt as Rhyse flew past me and blocked the way, his arms crossed across his wildly impressive chest. His hair fluttered softly back into place along his shoulders, the sun glinting off the various tints of brown. The sun actually made his skin glow as it highlighted him from just above and behind. Perfect lighting. It just wasn’t fair because the man didn’tcare!
“Stay away from me!” I shouted, backing down the docks step by slow step. “I don’t know what you think I said, but I wouldnevervolunteer to come here and leave my life behind! You kidnapped me. You must have! And none of them care, do they?”
“Careful, Emma,” Rhyse rumbled. “It gets slippery.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me!”
“I know you’re going to fall.”
“I am—” My foot snagged on something, a pile of rope, and I stumbled backward.
Into open air.
I screamed as I fell toward the ocean, but it was cut off as I came to a sharp, abrupt stop, my legs dangling over the side of a boat. An odd warmth started to cover my right shoulder and flow down my arm.
Casually, as if nothing was the matter, I turned my head to the right and gaped at the giant harpoon sticking up through my shoulder, impaling me.
The boat rocked gently with the waves, and the movement tugged at me, making me rock back and forth.
Then the pain hit me.
Chapter Seven
Emma
With the pain came the screams.
My throat was torn ragged in seconds. Each gentle rocking motion of the boat tore at my shoulder more, widening the wound. My legs banged helplessly against the side, but the pain of that was nothing compared to the white-hot agony lancing from my destroyed right shoulder.
Blood poured down my chest and arm, soaking my clothes and dripping off my leg into the water so furiously it turned it red underneath me.
“I’m going to die,” I whispered, tasting the acrid metal tang of iron. Not even the salty sea air could remove that. There was too much blood.
The life I thought I knew flashed me by. Waiting the half-dozen tables at The Hunt Station, the restaurant in my tiny hometown of Caledon just off the north coast of Maine. The house I’d inherited from my father when he’d passed away half a decade earlier. The work I’d been doing renovating the house, fixing it up, trying to honor his life and legacy.
It was a simple life. But it had been a good one.
And now, it was gone. I was going to die like a fish, gutted and hung over the side of a boat.
I tasted more metal. A corner of my brain wondered if I was going to rust in the ocean air once I died.
The thought made no sense. But most of my body was focused on still screaming. The part doing the thinking was a distant corner. Detached from the pain somehow. Compartmentalized with the realization that this was it. This was the end of the road for one Emma Whitson.
Then I began to move.
Sweet fresh pain ripped through my entire body, and I was yanked back into reality. I screamed and screamed. My throat was bleeding. My voice gone. Nothing worked, my body was limp as my lifeblood soaked the decking below me as I was lowered to a seating position.
