16. Pen Pals and Nicknames

CHAPTER 16

Pen Pals and Nicknames

" G reetings and salutations, Captain Waterborn." Celeste's voice seemed more chipper today than normal, or maybe it was Ryker who was different.

Last night, he'd slept better than he had in years. The memory of Brynleigh's wavy blonde hair and luscious scent kept him company through his dreams.

It surprised Ryker to realize that he did not regret visiting her yesterday. He'd broken the rules, but it was for a good reason.

He would do it again in a heartbeat.

"Morning," he replied. Adjusting the headphones with one hand, he accepted a coffee from the Light Elf manning the temporary bar near the door. Thanking the elf, he moved towards the wall.

The library was significantly smaller than the ballroom in the Hall of Choice, and even with the headphones, he could hear the faint murmurs of the other men speaking as he situated himself in a cozy armchair.

"Your date is incoming, Captain," Celeste said pleasantly. "Please, stand by."

A languid cello concerto trilled through the headset. Clearly, they were getting right to it. He probably had the condensed timeline to thank for that. Some of the other men were concerned about the new timeframe, but not Ryker. He didn't need the two weeks.

He was ready to propose now.

Some might have said he was moving too fast, but Ryker had already decided. He wanted Brynleigh de la Point. She might not be the kind of wife his mother desired for him, but she was the woman he wanted.

Ryker would cherish the next two weeks. He would use the time to familiarize himself with his future bride and learn everything about her. Besides, Brynleigh might still need the time to make her decision. He wasn't so full of himself that he thought Brynleigh would fall over herself in a rush to the altar to meet him.

Love took work on both sides, and he intended to prove to the vampire that he would be the best possible partner for her. Ryker would provide for Brynleigh in every way, keep her safe, and give her a home full of love. He could see it now—their life would be filled with laughter, games, intelligent comments, and hours of conversation.

He couldn't wait.

The music quieted until all Ryker could hear was his thundering heart.

A soft inhale came through the headphones, barely more than a breath.

"Brynleigh?" he murmured, his coffee cup frozen midway to his mouth. "Is that you?"

What a stupid question. Of course, it was. After his final, disastrous conversation with Valentina yesterday, he'd requested that Brynleigh be his only date from now on. Still, he had to know.

The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity as he waited and waited for a response.

Was she there?

When a lifetime—or a few seconds, it was hard to tell—passed, a serene, feminine exhale caressed his ears. It was like a refreshing breeze whispering on his skin on a hot day. That voice that was becoming as familiar as his own breathed, "Ryker."

At the sound of his name on Brynleigh's lips, Ryker groaned. His cock stirred, and he adjusted himself as he let his eyes fall shut.

No one else said his name like that. It was half-prayer, half-plea, and all… her. The lilt of her voice, the specific way she pulled out each syllable, was everything he ever needed. Tension left his shoulders, and he relaxed.

"Hey there, sweetheart. I missed you." Truth.

"I missed you, too."

He'd never heard better words. Leaning forward in his seat, he opened his eyes once more. "Did you get my note?"

A wooden wall was all that separated them. He stared at the striations in the wood and waited.

Ryker used to be patient—his mother often described him as imperturbable—but he was so eager to hear his vampire's words that every second she was silent was too long.

"Yes, the Matron delivered it." A breathy laugh filled the air. "You know, no one's ever written me a note before. It was very sweet."

A smile stretched from ear to ear as he settled into the chair. If everything went well, this would be a long, comforting conversation. "Does that make me your first pen pal?"

He really liked the sound of that. He was greedy and wanted as many of her firsts as she would give him.

First proposal, first time seeing each other, first dance, first kiss when they were alone…

His mind ran wild with everything they would do once they were away from the public's watchful eye.

She chuckled. "I suppose it does."

"And did you like the note?" By the Obsidian Sands, he sounded like a schoolboy. Still, he had to know.

"I did." Brynleigh laughed.

"Good," he breathed.

There was a pause, and he imagined her twirling those long golden strands through her fingers. "Although, I do have a few critiques I'd like to submit."

"Oh?" Ryker tilted his head. "I'm all ears."

He would welcome any topic of conversation as long as it meant they were talking.

"Well, first of all, your handwriting leaves something to be desired."

Ryker snorted. "Yes, that's true. "

His mother and the headmasters at the academy had always encouraged him to work on his penmanship, but as far as he was concerned, it was a lost cause. Ryker was left-handed; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't achieve the nice, neat loops his mother desired.

"Quite frankly, I'm surprised they let you in the army with chicken scratch like that, Captain," Brynleigh teased.

"Is that so? Is yours much better?"

"It is." She sounded smug. "I was always first in my class for handwriting, which qualifies me to make such a statement."

A low laugh bubbled out of Ryker. "It's a good thing my job doesn't require a lot of writing. You'll be happy to know most of my correspondence is electronic these days."

"Oh, good. We wouldn't want anyone to misunderstand your orders because they couldn't read them."

"No, we certainly wouldn't." Ryker rested his chin on his fist. "What were your other critiques? I'm dying to hear them."

She huffed a laugh, and the sound warmed Ryker from the inside out. He wanted to hear that sound a million times over. "My goodness, Captain. I had no idea you were so eager to be criticized."

"I'm eager to speak with you." The words slipped off his tongue before he could even think about them. "It doesn't matter what we're talking about because hearing your voice is like listening to my favorite music. I could do it all day long. Like an enchantress, you enthralled me with your voice."

A hitched breath came through the headphones, and for a prolonged moment, Brynleigh didn't say anything. Every beat of his heart was long and drawn out. Every pulse of his magic in his veins was louder than before. Had he spoken out of turn? Was this too fast? Too much?

Ryker was a statue, unable to blink or move as he waited. Had he scared her off? Gods, he hoped that wasn't the case. He didn't want anyone else, and he needed a bride.

Then, the most beautiful sound came through his headphones. Brynleigh laughed .

His soul drank in each drop of her delight. He didn't move or speak. He just… listened .

"I'm no enchantress and I can't Persuade anyone, but I like you, too," she murmured. "Although I will say, your note was a little short."

Ryker's lips twitched. He never thought he'd enjoy receiving criticism, yet she was proving him wrong. "Is that so?" He arched a brow. "Would you have preferred a novel? A poem? A song?"

Ryker wasn't much of a writer, but for her, he'd try. It turned out that breaking a rule was the first of many things he was willing to do for this vampire stealing his heart.

"Maybe one day. I'll let you know."

The conversation between them didn't require any thought. "You do that, sweetheart."

She chuckled, the sound warming him through. "That's not my last critique, though."

He canted his head. "No?"

"You didn't sign or initial it. How was I supposed to know it came from you?"

Ryker's eyes widened. He hadn't even considered that she might think it came from someone else. A low growl rumbled through him. "Brynleigh, I sent the note."

The mere thought of one of these other men sending his vampire anything made him want to roar his frustrations skyward. She was his and no one else's.

Fuck. This was a level of possessiveness that Ryker had never experienced. Part of him knew it was irrational, but he still wanted to rip off his headphones and yell at the other men to stay away from Brynleigh.

"Hmm. Maybe you don't know how to sign your name."

"I know how to write my name," he growled, still trying to get himself under control.

"So, it must be a problem of length," she postulated, a hint of mirth in her voice. "Is that it? Ryker has far fewer letters than Brynleigh, but still…"

She paused, and he imagined she was chewing on her lip. Was it full? Plump and kissable? Waiting for him to lay claim to it? Probably. His fingers itched with the urge to tear down the wall between them and see for himself.

Two weeks, he reminded himself. That's all .

He could wait two weeks, right? Fourteen days wasn't that long, especially for long-lived beings like the fae.

The thought, though rational, did not ease his frustrations.

"Ry," she said suddenly.

His brows creased, and his mind raced to catch up. "Excuse me?"

There was a definite smile in Brynleigh's voice as she said, "You could've signed it, ‘Ry.' I get that you were busy and all, but?—"

"Ry?" he repeated. The name sounded foreign on his tongue, but he didn't mind it at all.

And when Brynleigh said it, it felt… right.

"Yes, Ry. It's a nickname." She snorted, and gods help him, but that sound made him fall for her even more. "Typically, something people choose as a term of endearment for someone they spent a lot of time with."

"I know what a nickname is, sweetheart." He couldn't sit any longer. Abandoning his coffee, he stood, stretched his arms above his head, and cracked his back. He strode over to the bookshelves and studied the spines. "I am a Mature fae."

A soft, barely there chuckle filled his ears. "Ah. I see what the problem is. Captain, has no one ever given you one before?"

The playful intonation of her voice warmed him from the inside out. Who could have known such a simple interaction could bring someone so much joy?

"No one whose company I enjoy as much as yours," was his murmured response.

She sucked in a breath, and Ryker's fingers stilled on the leather binding of the History of Coral City . He wracked his brain, trying to pinpoint whether he'd said something wrong.

By the Black Sands, Ryker was never usually like this. He didn't question his words. He was self-assured and confident, a leader in his own right.

"Do you enjoy my company, Ry?" Her question was quiet, almost… hesitant.

Enjoy was too simple of a word for how he felt around her. He'd spend every minute of every day with her if he could. In fact, that was exactly what he planned to do .

When this was over, he would be with her when he woke and come home to her after a long day. He would find refuge in her arms after inevitable hardships. She would rest her head in his bed at night. He could see it all now. Even the most mundane tasks, like walking the dog, would be more pleasurable with her.

Ryker inhaled deeply. "I enjoy coffee. Pastries, also. There's nothing like the thrill of playing a game of chess and winning against a worthy opponent. Those are all things I enjoy ."

Turning from the bookshelf, he strode toward the wall and placed his palm flat on the surface. His eyes fell shut. "To say that I enjoy your company, sweetheart, would be a vast underestimation of how much I look forward to hearing your voice and spending time with you. I do not enjoy it because that is too simple of a word. Rather, I am quickly finding that I am desperate for your company. For you. I thought I proved that yesterday."

Resting his forehead against the wall, he curled his fingers against the wood. His heart raced in his chest as he waited for her to say something. Anything.

Every moment that passed in silence was longer than the last.

Right then, as he waited for her response, Ryker realized he was falling in love with Brynleigh de la Point. They had only known each other for a month, but his heart beat for her.

He'd promised his father he would enter the Choosing to find a wife, but he'd never imagined he'd find this kind of soul-completing, mind-bending, world-altering love.

And she…

Was still silent.

Ryker's heart seized, and he whispered, "Brynleigh?—"

"I'm here," she murmured. "I just… I'm here."

The wooden divider was rough against his fingers as he dug his hand into the wall. "Tell me what you're thinking."

He couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Do you… what you said… is it…"

"It's true," he whispered.

She blew out a long breath. "Because you can't lie. "

"That's right." He exhaled, his heart still thundering. "I'm standing at the wall." He needed to tell her.

A silken chuckle that would follow him into his dreams came from her. "Me too."

He slid down the barrier until he sat on the floor. Resting his head against it, he breathed in deeply. They were close, separated only by this wall. How thick was it? Two or three inches? That was nothing. It would be easy to rip it down and see his vampire for the first time.

He wouldn't. Not yet.

But soon.

"I wish I could see you right now," he admitted. "I want to know everything about you."

That glimpse of golden hair hadn't been nearly enough for him. He was beginning to realize nothing would ever be enough. Not until she was fully his in every way.

His headphones echoed with the rustling of fabric. "I'm not going anywhere, Ry." She sounded almost… sad about that. But he had to be mishearing her. "Not today, not tomorrow. I'll be here every day. There's no one else I'd rather speak with."

"I love speaking with you, too," Ryker said.

Another pause, then she whispered, "I'm not as eloquent as you, but it seems I've taken a liking to you, too. It's… I didn't… It took me by surprise."

"Just a liking?" His voice was teasing, but he couldn't hide the undercurrent in his words as he pushed deeper. "Is that all you feel for me?"

He hadn't planned to ask the question today, but suddenly, hearing her answer was the only thing that mattered.

Waiting with bated breath, he rubbed his hands down his jeans. He straightened an invisible crease in the denim as time slipped on. He was a powerful water fae, the son of a Representative, and yet he was riddled with anxiety. Did she know she could crush him? That her words meant the world to him?

Even so, he wouldn't push her. He never would. Sometimes, time was the best gift one person could give to another. He would give her as much as she needed, and he wouldn't go anywhere .

Brynleigh sucked in a deep breath. "Maybe… I think… Maybe it's more." Her voice shook as if she was afraid to admit it. "I think…"

"Yes?" Hope sparked in his stomach, and his fingernails dug into his palms. His arms were empty, waiting for her.

"It's really scary to admit this," she breathed. "I don't… I'm not suppo… but…" A shuddering breath escaped her. "I think I could fall in love with you, Ryker."

Those last words were barely more than a breath, but he heard them as if she'd screamed them in his ear. That spark of hope exploded into a burning flame. He would cherish it for the rest of his life.

A long moment passed as her words settled into his heart.

He pressed his forehead against the wall. "Me too, Brynleigh."

"You could fall in love with yourself?" The teasing tone in her voice was back. "I had no idea you thought so highly of yourself."

He chuckled. "You know what I mean."

Her voice was a soft caress in his ears. "Yes, I do." She sighed wistfully. "I wish I could see you."

He groaned. "I know. Soon."

Maybe if he kept reminding himself that it wouldn't be long, the next two weeks wouldn't feel like an eternity. At the moment, he doubted it.

"Soon," she echoed softly.

Ryker didn't want their date to end. He could stay here for hours, talking with his vampire. "Did I ever tell you about my dad?"

She hummed. "No, I don't think so."

That didn't surprise him. "I thought so. I don't talk about him much," he admitted.

"Oh," she murmured. "Is he…"

"Both my parents are alive," Ryker answered, sensing where she was going with the question. "My parents both love me, but my father…" He raked a hand through his hair. "He's everything to me."

Memories flashed through Ryker's mind.

Riding with his father, galloping through the fields of the family's country house in the Western Region. The plains stretched for miles, a sea of grain in all directions. Watching sports together. Learning to read. Listening to music. Hunting. Playing chess .

Everything Ryker enjoyed doing linked him to his father in one way or another.

"Tell me about him?" The request was soft, as if Brynleigh was afraid to pull him out of his memories.

"Dad and I were close," Ryker said. "He taught me to ride a horse and was always my biggest champion."

Another memory, a much more recent one, flashed through Ryker's mind.

"How is he?" Ryker asked the nurse quietly.

She shook her head, her soft smile tinged with pity. "I'm afraid it's not a good day, Captain."

Ryker's mouth pinched. "I was worried that might be the case."

Still, he would see his father. Tomorrow, he was entering the Hall of Choice. He needed his dad to know.

Thanking the nurse, Ryker entered the room quietly. Once, it had served as one of the three studies in Waterborn House. Now, it was his father's sick room. Machines beeped, disinfectant covered the underlying scent of illness, and a hospital bed with crisp white sheets sat in the middle of the room.

"Dad." Ryker strode towards the bed.

His heart nearly stopped in his chest as he took in his father's sickly state. His father's condition had deteriorated since Ryker's last visit.

Unseeing eyes stared at the ceiling, and even after Ryker picked up his father's hand, they didn't even blink.

Ryker's cheeks were damp as he squeezed his father's hand. "I'm going to find a wife in the Choosing, Dad," he promised. "Like I told you I would."

There was no response.

"I'm going tomorrow," he said. "I won't be able to visit while I'm gone, but Mom and River will take good care of you."

Cyrus' fingers tightened ever so slightly around Ryker's. It was more than Ryker expected, and it stole his breath.

"I love you," Ryker said gruffly.

There was no response.

A tear slipped from the corner of Ryker's eye, and he quickly wiped it away. No matter what, he would keep his promise.

"Was?" Brynleigh's quiet question drew Ryker out of his thoughts.

He ran a finger under his eyes, surprised when it came away wet. He was crying again. "My father's been sick for a long time."

"Oh no."

Ryker's chest burned, and he rubbed his heart. "A few years after my sister was born, Dad was infected with the Stillness. He's alive, but…"

A lump rose in Ryker's throat, and his voice trailed off. His unspoken words hung in the air between them. Not for long .

The Stillness was a deadly, incurable sickness. It only affected fae, and no one knew where it came from. There was no surviving it. The Stillness ate away at the victim's body, slowly stealing their ability to move. The best medical care on the continent could not stop its deadly advance.

Ryker had been watching his father slowly die for the better part of two decades.

"I'm so sorry, Ryker." Brynleigh's voice cracked, and silence stretched between them for several minutes. "Losing your family is an indescribable kind of pain. Mine… They passed away."

His heart squeezed. They both knew grief intimately. It was a thread weaving them together, drawing them closer than before.

He hated that she understood where he was coming from. Hated that they had this in common. Hated that she, too, had probably had sleepless nights and exhausting days filled with tears. He remembered their date when they had remained silent, sitting in grief.

By the Sands, he wished he could remove that pain from Brynleigh. There were no words that could describe the absolute, soul-shattering agony that was grief. No real way to explain the emptiness that sometimes settled within him when he remembered his father's illness. He knew words were often empty, and platitudes didn't get people far.

Ryker understood all this about grief, so he didn't offer Brynleigh meaningless words. Instead, he shook his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, Brynleigh."

Truer words had never been spoken. He would never wish the kind of melancholy sorrow that grief cultivated on anyone, let alone the woman he was falling in love with.

Minutes passed in heavy silence.

Ryker mourned. Not only for his father and the man he used to be but for the relationship they'd once shared. The ever-present pain throbbed in his chest, but today, something was different. Maybe it was because he'd shared with Brynleigh, or maybe it was something else, but it wasn't as acute as normal.

And so, when Brynleigh quietly asked him to tell her about his family, he did. He closed his eyes and shared stories he'd never spoken aloud.

He talked for hours, and Brynleigh listened. It meant more to him than he could ever put into words.

That day, they didn't play chess or laugh again, but when Celeste announced their date was ending, Ryker had made up his mind.

Brynleigh de la Point would be his bride because there was no way he was letting this vampire go.

She was his, even if she didn't know it yet.