Page 16 of Fated to the Grumpy Dragon
Emma rolled her eyes. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.”
I worked my jaw, trying to batten down my anger even as her temper rose to match.
“This isn’t doing us any good,” I said. “We’re just making each other madder.”
“So, stop.”
“It’s kind of hard when you’re entirely ungrateful for having your life saved. And for the record, you’re down here because of your own actions. You could have trusted me and come to my house. We would be sitting down, eating food, having some water,whatever. Instead, you’re lying in my lap, we’re both covered in your blood, and you nearly died!”
“All because of you.”
“Then let me just peel that back off. You can go back to dying. Sound good?” I reached for the scale.
She pulled away.
“That’s what I thought,” I growled, getting to my feet, blood dripping from me in places, clotting into my clothing in others. I was a mess.
Emma was worse.
“You should feel fine soon enough,” I told her. “You’ll heal fast from it, but you’ll need to eat. So, we better find some food.”
I turned to go, furious at her attitude, and wondering why the hell I’d bothered to save her? Did she even understand what I’d just done? It seemed unlikely. I should probably have left her to die.
The boat and the docks blurred as I stumbled, grabbing on to the side of the boat for balance as my dragon went absolutely berserk. Thrashing and roaring, it unleashed wave after wave of mental fire into my brain, venting its fury at evensuggestingthe idea of letting her die.
Emma let out a low groan and grabbed at her head with bloodied hands. “Arghh, what the hell is going on in my head? Make it stop!”
I pointed out to my dragon that its antics were hurting her. Almost immediately, it settled.
Now, what the hell wasthatall about? I tried to figure it out, but I was interrupted by Emma before I could make heads or tails of it.
“You weren’t kidding,” Emma said in awed undertones as she slowly got to her feet.
I watched, ready to jump in as her legs wobbled slightly, but she caught herself and was able to balance.
“How am I on my feet after that?” she touched her blood-soaked clothing. “I’m a mess.”
“You had a harpoon go through your shoulder,” I pointed out. “That tends to come with the territory.”
Emma laughed, surprising us both.
“I’m not even lightheaded anymore.” She moved her arm around and winced.
“I wouldn’t do too much of that just yet,” I advised. “Give it a few more hours to fully heal.”
“Hours?” she gaped at me. “This should bemonths.”
I shrugged, gesturing at her standing on her feet. Another thing she shouldn’t have been able to do, given all the blood on the deck around us.
“This is impossible. I feel rested. Energized. Not in this arm, but my legs, my right arm, it all feelsstronger, almost.”
“Yep,” I said. “Now, come on. Let’s go. We need to get out of here.”
“Why?” she asked curiously.
“Well, for one,” I told her, pointing down the docks where a dragon was hurrying toward us, “I don’t own this boat, and I think the owner might be a little mad at the mess you made of it.”
“Imade?” Emma asked dangerously.
