The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

Preview from The Heir's Choice

Her brows drew together before she stared up at the darkness once more. "Oh. Right. We haven't met yet, have we?"

"Definitely not." This was turning into an acid trip. Maybe he was dead. Or this was one of those hallucinations people get as they're dying. Would pinching bring him out of it, if this was the case? Would he even want to face reality? Drowning was a nightmare way to die.

Rhea pursed her lips and inspected him.

"I thought it's rude to stare," he mumbled, but she just burst out laughing.

It was as calming as listening to rain. Yeah. Much better than the realities of water stinging through his lungs instead of air.

James rolled his eyes and sat up, leaning against the bed's wrought-iron headboard. The curling, cold metal pressed against his skin.

She shrugged. "I don't remember what's rude to my people anymore."

James frowned. He was alive, but part of him felt afloat in a sea of confusion. "You don't remember?"

"This place. It does things to me."

"Why don't you leave?" he asked.

"I can't. Not yet." Sadness edged into her expression before a wide smile crowded it out moments later. "I'm surprised that you aren't asking me about bringing you here."

Bits and pieces of memories returned to him. The bindings' bite into his wrists. His terror as the thugs had forced him into the lake. The cold water choking off his air-

He winced. "How did I get here?"

"I had my people submerge you in a lake."

He shot forward, his old terror rising again. His air escaped him and he gasped, drawing it deep into his lungs and holding it in, fearing it would be his last. Wait...last air. It had left him. He'd screamed under water. Saw the bubbles drifting to the surface. He gripped the edge of the mattress, fighting to regain his nerve.

"I could have been killed!"

"No. I wouldn't have let that happen." She actually sounded hurt.

"How could you possibly prevent me from drowning?"

"Because I'm Rhea," she snapped as if that answered everything, as if he didn't even have the right to ask. "I've been waiting for you for ages. Since you're here, we can assume I did prevent your drowning."

James stared at her. Was she for real? Was she even real? Because right now James had no sense of reality to hold on to. He half expected her to laugh at him. Instead, she stood up and crossed the room to a closed door. She opened it a crack and spoke through the gap. He watched her, working his jaw to keep silent. What could she possibly want from a wreck like him?

Rhea flowed back to his bed-side and settled down on the place she'd vacated. She huffed a sigh. After a few seconds, she inspected him. James shifted under her scrutiny.

"My, my. You're..." She turned her lips inward. "Interesting," she said, tasting the word. "Yes..." Her expression eased. "James, I'd never hurt you. You were safe in my home before you had time to take the breath that could have drowned you."

"How could that be possible?" And why the hell did it seem like Rhea knew him?

She smiled. "Don't tell me you forgot, James Braden. I'm Water's Daughter. I could make any water do my bidding. In theory."

He leaned back once more. Hopefully the relaxed pose convinced her that he didn't care. Because this conversation and the way it kept running in circles freaked him out. "I didn't forget. I never met you."