Page 7 of Fated to the Grumpy Dragon
Emma
“Are you okay?”
It was the stupidest question I’d ever been asked. OfcourseI was okay. I just didn’t know—
My train of thought cut off like the executioner’s axe had dropped on it. For several long moments, I simply could not process anything.
“Emma?”
It was that same face, those same eyes, the green light incoherently bright. Impossibly so as they stared down at me.
It registered that I should have been standing up.
“Anytime you want to get up is fine by me, then we can—”
“Who are you?”
The stranger’s beautifully sculpted jaw clacked shut, the tanned skin pulling taut as he clenched his teeth. Jade fire crossed his eyes. “Really? That’s not going to work. Get up.”
That much I could agree with. I scrambled to my feet, wincing at a sudden stabbing pain in my head. I winced, holding a hand to my temple, but it faded quickly.
“Shall we continue now?” The stranger gestured up the beach.
The beach.
As swiftly as his had slammed shut, my jaw fell open. I was on the beach. Why was I on the beach?Howdid I get to the beach?
“Emma?”
“Just-just stay away from me!” I shouted, backpedaling, putting some distance between the two of us. “Who are you? Where am I? What beach is this?”
The stranger’s frown intensified as he peered down at me from the lofty heights his head occupied. He was easily a foot taller than me. Perhaps more. His hair fell to his shoulders, a messy brown mop that had a few hints of gray scattered around it. Not much, just a dash of salt that paired well with the natural tan of his skin.
Then there were the eyes. Large. Green. Angry.
“Do you not remember?” he snapped impatiently. “How can you seriously expect me to believe you?”
“Believe you?” I shook my head, hair flying. “I don’t know you. I don’t know how I got here. I was at home. In my kitchen. Peeling potatoes at the sink. Then I—”
I stepped away from him some more, again ignoring the brief pain in my temple. This time, he took a step closer, holding out his hand. “Emma, stop.”
“How do you know my name?”
He sighed. “We arenotgoing to play this game.”
“What did you do to me?”
“Me?” This time, the stranger’s entire face creased with anger. “Why do you thinkIhad anything to do with this? You’re the one playing games.”
I ignored the last sentence. It made no sense. “Because you’re the only one here. You know my name. It stands to reason you had a hand in this.”
“Lady,” he growled angrily like the rumble of thunder before the storm arrived, a warning sign I shouldn’t ignore. “We’ve been talking for the past hour as we came down to the beach. Then you just didn’t like something, decided you were done, and pretended to pass out. I caught you and laid you down. So, I mean, if you want to be mad at me for saving you from any major trauma when your head would have slammed into the rocks, then go right ahead, but it makes you both insane and a bitch.”
He bit off the last word, looking away.
I did the same. Clearly,somethinghad happened. I just didn’t know what. So, I stalled by taking in my surroundings.
We were on the beach. Waves crashed against the shoreline not thirty feet away. The saltwater spray in the air had my sinuses clear and sharp with each slow inhale I took as I tried to stall the rising panic inside me.
