14. Breaking Rules and Guilty Consciences

CHAPTER 14

Breaking Rules and Guilty Consciences

" W here. Is. She?" Ryker bit out the words and crossed his arms. He channeled his mother and sent a withering glare at the soldier at the door, hoping it would loosen the man's tongue.

The guard shook his head. "I told you, Captain, I can't share that information with you. She's safe; that's all I'm authorized to say."

Safe, but not here in the library with the rest of them.

Ryker barely contained the growl rising in his throat. The past few days had been an absolute shit show, the likes of which he hadn't seen for several years.

After the rebels' attack, Matron Cassandra briefed the men. Her information had been minimal, at best. There was an attack. No, she didn't know if there were casualties. Yes, they were safe. No, she couldn't tell them anything else.

Frustrating.

After the meeting, they were given thirty minutes to gather their belongings. A dozen guards shuffled them onto an enormous blacked-out bus. The women were transported in another vehicle, and armed guards had made up the rest of their entourage. They'd driven through the night, crossing from the Central Region into the Northern one .

When the driver had pulled through looming stone gates and driven up a long circular driveway, red streaked the sky. They'd stopped in front of a brick three-story home that was nothing short of palatial. The estate was large, and at least one other building, barely visible through the pines, was tucked behind the main one.

When the bus had stopped, Matron Cassandra had explained that for security reasons, the Choosing would continue in this more secluded location. Representative Therald, one of the werewolf Alphas, had kindly donated his pack house for the remainder of the Choosing. A team had flown up a few hours earlier and prepared the house for them. They had installed the necessary technology to stream the remainder of the Choosing to the world and covered all the windows with blackout blinds to accommodate the vampires in their group.

"Chancellor Rose is adamant that the Choosing continue," Cassandra had said. "After all, it's more important than ever to remind the Republic that we are a united country."

After the Matron's speech had concluded, Ryker disembarked the bus with the others. He'd found his room, showered, and then collapsed on the bed. It had been an extremely long night. He had slept most of the day, emerging long enough to eat before returning to the comfort of his sheets.

That was yesterday, though.

This morning, he'd woken up with a strong desire to talk to Brynleigh. He needed to make sure she was alright.

Following the Matron's directions, he'd located the two-story library, where a hastily erected wall bisected the room.

Everything had been going as expected until he'd slipped on his headphones. The morning had rapidly deteriorated from there.

First, Celeste had connected him with Valentina. He'd explained, in no uncertain terms, that although he had enjoyed their conversations, he would pursue another option.

She hadn't taken it well.

At.

All.

Ryker endured Valentina's wrath for the better part of an hour. It was the longest sixty minutes of his life. She yelled, and he spoke to her calmly. She berated him, insisting he would regret this. He knew she was wrong. She swore. He sighed.

At least she confirmed he'd made the right decision.

When Celeste had informed him the meeting was over, relief had coursed through his veins. He couldn't wait to speak with Brynleigh and tell her he'd broken things off with Valentina.

However, after Celeste had disconnected him from Valentina, the AI informed him that Brynleigh was unavailable. Not talking to someone else.

Unavailable .

The word had echoed around in Ryker's mind, a battering ram against his senses. If Brynleigh wasn't there, where was she?

Worry had gnawed at his gut, which led him to this tense conversation with the guard at the entrance.

"Why can't I speak with her?" He waved the white headphones at the man. "What happened to her? Is she still in Golden City?"

"As I previously stated, all Choosing participants have journeyed to this new location," the guard said evasively.

Ryker's worry twisted and grew. What wasn't the guard telling him? Brynleigh was strong, but even vampires weren't infallible. He couldn't shake the idea that the guard was keeping something from him.

The other men's conversations were the quiet backdrop to the pounding of Ryker's heart.

"I have to see her," he insisted.

Ryker's muscles were rigid, and his jaw was tense from being clenched for so long. Some might say he was overreacting, but after the events of the past few days, a little overreaction might not be entirely out of place.

A vein feathered in the guard's jaw, and his eyes flashed. "Sir, you cannot see the women. It goes against the very structure of the Choosing. You must know we cannot allow it."

Ryker's fists curled. The urge to acquaint this soldier with his fist was close to overwhelming.

The only thing that stopped him was the red light on the bookshelf behind the guard's head. They were being recorded, and Ryker had no desire to deal with the aftermath of his actions if he punched the unhelpful soldier.

Footsteps clicked in the hall, and Ryker glanced over the soldier's shoulder. Wearing white from head to toe, Matron Cassandra approached the library. She touched the guard on the arm and whispered in his ear.

When they broke apart, the guard turned back to Ryker. "You're in luck. Miss de la Point is indisposed, but Matron Cassandra will deliver a note if you want to send her a message."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ryker bit out.

"She's indisposed," the guard repeated unhelpfully.

Ryker growled. He had even more questions than before. He'd learned his lesson, though. There would be no getting information out of this soldier.

Instead, Ryker shifted and met the Matron's gaze. "You'll personally deliver the note?"

Cassandra pulled a black pen and a small notebook out of her pocket. "I will."

Ryker took them, rolling the pen between his fingers as a plan formed in his mind. It was risky, but he couldn't sit around and wait for someone to decide to update him on what was happening. He needed to take matters into his own hands.

"Very well. I'll write one up, and then I'd like to rest." Not a lie. He would like to rest. He just didn't plan on doing it right now. "If Brynleigh isn't here, I don't want to talk to anyone else."

Truth.

The Matron frowned. "There is no one else? It's highly irregular?—"

"No." His voice was firm. "She's mine."

Even though Brynleigh didn't know it yet, it was true.

Both the Matron and the guard widened their eyes as if the claiming words caught them off guard. They didn't surprise Ryker, though. They'd slipped off his tongue as easily as his own name. Now that he'd parted ways with Valentina, he was ready to make it official with his vampire.

A smile tugged on the Matron's lips, and her eyes twinkled. "I see. Of course, Captain. You may return to your room. "

"Thank you." He had no intention of doing such a thing, but he kept that to himself.

Instead, he took the offered pen and paper with a smile. He slipped into a wooden chair that creaked as he put his full weight on it. Hints of the ruby theme of the Choosing were scattered throughout the library—mugs, pillows, and a few red armchairs—but the room was a study in woodwork.

Everything from the bookshelves to the high ceiling and the polished planks on the floor were made of wood. It reminded him of the hunting cabin he kept outside Golden City. He'd bought it a decade ago, and after the Incident six years ago, it had become a refuge for him. He'd spent nearly as much time at the cabin as he did at his home in the city.

He hoped Brynleigh would enjoy it as much as he did.

Ryker penned the note with the speed of a man desperate for answers. He wasn't a youngling and was well aware that writing something in a letter didn't guarantee it would remain private. He purposefully kept his message vague. Folding it in half, he scrawled his vampire's name on the front before handing it to the Matron.

"I'll deliver this as soon as I'm done here," Cassandra promised.

"Thank you." Ryker dipped his head and made a show of departing. Nodding at the guard, Ryker slipped his hands in his pockets and nonchalantly strolled down the empty hall.

Instead of returning to his room, he ducked inside the first doorway and watched the library entrance.

He didn't have to wait long. The Matron exited a few minutes later, humming a tune as she walked away from Ryker. She clutched his note, her hips swaying as she made her way to the end of the hall and turned left.

Keeping his distance, Ryker trailed her. It wasn't difficult. She was a human, and he was a trained fae. Tracking her movements without being seen required minimal energy. They strolled past the guards stationed throughout the house, and none of them noticed him. He supposed he couldn't hold it against them. They were searching for external threats, not internal ones.

Still, if these were Ryker's men, he'd have a few words with them. Evidently, this "secure" location had more than a few security issues. However, their lackluster guarding was playing into Ryker's favor at the moment.

He kept pace with the Matron through the house. She stopped at the kitchen and picked up a pear tart before descending two flights of stairs. She went down a plain, small corridor, lifting a knitted shawl off a hook on the wall. She wrapped it around herself and slipped out the door without a backward glance.

That was unexpected. Ryker had assumed the Matron would deliver his note somewhere within this house.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

As the questions piled up and the lack of answers became even more glaring, Ryker took the stairs three at a time. He scanned the door, searching for an alarm, but he didn't see anything.

At this point, all plausible deniability on his part was gone. If he were caught, he'd have some serious explaining to do as to why he was sneaking about the pack house.

He couldn't be caught. It was that simple.

Ryker didn't want to go outside without any sort of weapon. He didn't know what was waiting for him on the other side of the door. Opening his palm, he reached within himself and summoned his magic. The water was always there, waiting for him. It came eagerly, and he pulled it from his veins, forming a dagger of ice.

Armed and ready to go, he gingerly touched the door handle. It was cool. He held his hand there, waiting to see if there was an alarm, but nothing happened.

He opened the door, and once he was certain the coast was clear, he stepped outside.

A bitter, icy gale slammed into him like a wall of bricks. The sun shone on a blanket of white that covered everything in sight. The snow was beautiful when observed from inside, but outside, it was unpleasant at best.

He swore, rubbing his arms. His black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers were not weather-appropriate. The ice dagger in his hand was a part of him, and the cold emanating from it didn't bother him. It was his magic, and it sang to him. But although he could hold his dagger for hours without his hand hurting, he wasn't impervious to weather conditions.

Still, there was no time to wait. He would have to put up with the cold. Picking up a rock from the side of the house, he jammed it inside the lock. Hopefully, the Matron wouldn't notice that the door didn't fully close if she returned before him.

The Matron's shawl flapped as she hurried through the trees, a flag leading him in the right direction. Ignoring the goosebumps crawling over his arms, he was a shadow as he trailed her.

A voice in Ryker's head chided him for breaking the rules as he prowled through the trees. This kind of behavior was wholly unlike him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd disregarded a regulation.

But it wasn't for him. It was for Brynleigh. It didn't matter that he'd only known the vampire for a month or that he'd never seen her. Ryker cared about her and would do anything to keep her safe, including going where he wasn't supposed to. Technically, they had never said the participants of the Choosing had to remain within the confines of the mansion, but it felt like an unspoken rule.

Birds chirped, and a squirrel hopped across branches, but he kept his eyes on the human ahead of him.

Several minutes passed before a small log cabin appeared through the trees. It wasn't very big, and midnight curtains were drawn shut. This small building was guarded, unlike the mansion side door he'd slipped out of. Two armed soldiers stood on a wooden covered porch. The Republic's insignia was on their chests, and they each held large guns as they scanned the forest for threats.

Ryker swore and ducked behind a tree, flattening his palms on the rough bark. Of course, there were guards here who seemed to be doing their jobs. Were they here because of Brynleigh? Perhaps more importantly, were they keeping her safe or holding her against her will?

He wasn't sure, but he would find out.

He would have to be patient. Years of military service had drilled into him the benefit of forbearance. He would discover what happened to Brynleigh, but he had to be smart about it.

Ryker studied the cabin, ignoring how the icy wind burned the skin on his bare arms. Although they were armed and seemed to be paying attention, the guards' relaxed aura boded well for Ryker.

Using the trees for cover, he slowly circled the building on silent, trained feet. There were six windows and two doors, one at the front and one at the back.

The latter was unguarded. A spark of hope came to life within him. He circled the cabin twice more, taking in all the details through analytic eyes.

Adjusting his grip on his ice dagger, he snuck towards the back door. The knob was cold, and it didn't budge as he wiggled it. Locked.

He huffed, and his nostrils flared. That would've been too easy.

In case the guards were in the habit of walking the perimeter, Ryker hurried back to the trees and crept around to the front to keep watch.

A few minutes later, Matron Cassandra re-emerged. She stepped outside, nodding to the guards before returning to the mansion. Her hands were empty, and his note was nowhere to be seen.

Confident that his vampire was inside the building, Ryker exhaled and quickly formulated a plan. It was risky but the best way to get eyes inside.

Now, he had to wait. Leaning against a tree, he allowed the forest to conceal him until the right opportunity arose.

Minutes went by.

The temperature dropped. He rubbed his arms in an effort to conserve heat, although the action didn't do much good. His teeth chattered, and his skin prickled.

He refused to let the temperature bother him. He could warm up later. Something as trivial as being cold could not force him to abandon his post. He would wait as long as necessary.

Finally, after an hour, Ryker saw his chance.

"Mind if I grab a smoke and make a call?" The shorter guard stretched his arms above his head and cracked his back. "I should check on Marie. You know how pregnant women get when they don't hear from us."

The other man snorted. "Yes, I remember my sister's pregnancy. Thank all the gods, Justinian and I don't have to worry about that. "

"Thanks, man. Be back soon." The first guard jumped off the porch and strode into the woods away from Ryker.

As soon as his companion was gone, the second guard relaxed and leaned against the wall.

This was Ryker's moment. He hurried to the back of the cabin and placed his dagger on the ground next to him. Though far more vigilant than the ones in the house, the guards hadn't bothered to check the back door in the time he'd been here.

Drawing another stream of water from his palms, Ryker froze it into a pick and angled it into the lock. If this were a regular icicle, it would have snapped as soon as he put pressure on it. Thank the gods; Ryker was one of the strongest water fae in the entire Republic of Balance. His powerful magic was malleable and would serve him well in this task.

Feeding strengthening magic into his improvised tool, Ryker jiggled the pick around in the lock. They didn't teach these kinds of tricks in the military academy, but he'd picked up a few things hanging around with Atlas.

The earth fae grew up in the streets and had several less-than-reputable, but helpful, skills. Ryker made a mental note to thank Atlas for teaching him how to pick locks when the Choosing ended.

Pressing his pointed ear against the frigid door, Ryker slowly moved his pick until the tell-tale click of locks tumbling filled his ears. "I owe you a beer, Atlas," he murmured.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, he allowed the pick to melt back into liquid form. He rose to his feet, keeping a small sphere of water in his palm in case something awaited him on the other side.

Ryker slid the door open.

It was…

A supply closet.

"Damn." He slipped inside, careful not to jostle the broom and mop that were haphazardly placed near the door. The confined space was dark except for the artificial yellow glow of fluorescent lighting running along the gap between the door and the floor.

Ryker dropped to his knees and ran his hands carefully down the walls. Then he felt it. A grate, roughly the size of his head, intended to allow air to flow through the cabin, was on the left side of the door. He felt his way to the edges and worked on the exposed screws with his fingers.

Thank the gods, whoever had installed the grate had done so in a lackadaisical manner. The screws were already loose, and it only took a few minutes to remove all four of them. Ryker held his breath as he pried the grate off the wall and placed it beside him.

Drawing in his shoulders, which was a feat in this small space, he contorted himself and peered through the opening.

His breath caught. Resting on a cot not far from him was a woman. She faced the door, her back to him. Like shards of sunlight, long, wavy blonde hair fell over her pillow. A brown blanket was tucked under her chin. He wasn't certain whether she was sleeping or glaring at the front door, but she wasn't moving.

On the other side of the room was a desk. A woman in a medical coat and pink scrubs typed on a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys. Ryker studied her briefly before determining she wasn't an immediate threat.

Ryker's gaze returned to the cot. Something about this woman drew him like a moth to a flame. An unexpected, pulsing need burned within him. He wanted to go to her, draw her into his arms, and never release her.

Beyond the shadow of a doubt, Ryker knew this was her.

Brynleigh de la Point.

His vampire.

They'd only known each other for a month, but it felt like a lifetime. They'd spent hours talking about everything and nothing, but this was the first time he was putting a body to her voice.

And gods, what a body it was. Ryker would be lying if he said he hadn't frequently dreamed of Brynleigh since their first date. He'd fantasized about being alone with her. He'd thought about how he'd make her his. He would taste her mouth, then have her writhing beneath him as he licked and suckled every sensitive part of her until she shattered. Then he would claim her.

Before, they'd been nothing but dreams. But now …

Now he knew .

In the same way that Ryker knew the sky was blue, the grass was green, and his magic was strong, he knew she was meant to be his. They would be partners in every single way. Not just in marriage but also in life. She was the other half that would complete him.

His soul recognized hers.

He'd heard of this happening—not between fae and vampires, but fae with other fae. Unbreakable bonds forged between two beings were blessed by the gods and extremely rare. Ryker didn't think that was happening to him—he didn't know if a fae could form a mating bond with a vampire—but he was sure she was meant to be his. He wanted to shout, to reach through the grate and pull her towards him, to pick her up and embrace her until the end of time.

But he wasn't supposed to be here.

Ryker's gut twisted. What the fuck was he doing? Participants of the Choosing weren't supposed to see each other until the Masked Ball. If Brynleigh knew he was here, would she report him for breaking the rules? Would she leave?

He gasped, his stomach contorting in on itself at the thought. Fucking hell. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't risk it.

Brynleigh rolled onto her back, and he could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. Not only that, but the doctor didn't seem concerned with the vampire's health. Maybe they were keeping her here until the sun set, and it would be safe for her to join the others?

He hoped that was the case. If she weren't back tomorrow, then Ryker would return. He'd raise hell to see this woman again. For now, he would retreat to the mansion and act like everything was normal.

He slid the grate back and replaced the screws. Pressing his palm against the wall, he breathed in deeply. Beneath the clinical, bleach-like quality in the air were traces of the night, shadows, and… something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Whatever it was, he wanted more.

Soon , he promised himself.

Ryker slipped out of the cabin and discreetly returned to the main house. This time, he didn't notice the cold at all. He returned to his room and cranked the shower as hot as possible. As the hot water rained down on him, he dreamed of that silky blonde hair and how she would feel in his arms.

He promised himself this wasn't the only time he would see her. He wouldn't allow it.