18. Universes Collide

CHAPTER 18

Universes Collide

O ne single touch was all it took to shift Ryker's world on its axis.

He hadn't even done it on purpose.

As soon as he'd entered the room, Brynleigh's scent had nearly bowled him over. Other aromas had diluted her fragrance in the infirmary, but that was no longer true.

Fae might not have the senses of vampires, but he could pick her out of a crowd, regardless. She smelled like a crisp evening and night-blooming roses. He'd never been one for flowers before, but now, he wanted to be surrounded by them daily for the rest of his life.

Her scent was as intoxicating as the strongest glass of Faerie Wine.

Ryker barely noticed the guard leading him to the table, barely heard him say the server would be around with dinner in a few minutes.

The entirety of his focus was on her .

Finally, the barriers between them were gone. Nothing was keeping him from her but a flimsy table and a pair of blindfolds.

Even sightless, he'd sensed her. His magic had bubbled within him, his water eager to play with her darkness. This had never happened before. Usually, his magic was calm, waiting for him to draw upon it, but not today .

He'd been reaching across the table for a glass of wine, careful not to knock it over, when it happened.

He touched her.

Her skin, soft and cool, had intercepted his. It was just a graze, barely more than a feather's brush against his hand, but it was everything . The moment they touched, his magic leaped in his veins. He sucked in a breath. His heart pounded.

Universes collided.

He'd dreamed of this moment, but the reality of their touch was far more than he'd ever imagined. Ryker wasn't a youngling, and he'd had his fair share of partners, but none of those moments had ever felt like this.

And it was a touch .

Brynleigh was soft, whereas he was hard and calloused. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. That, at least, he'd expected. All vampires were like that—polished versions of their previous mortal selves.

Fascinatingly, she was cold. Not freezing, but not warm. It should have worried him or made him want to pull back. Instead, all he wanted to do was cover her with his warmth.

She sucked in a breath, and her hand froze beneath his. Pulling away would be the right, gentlemanly thing to do, but he didn't. At that moment, Ryker wasn't feeling like much of a gentleman. Removing this one point of contact would be like taking a knife to his gut.

He'd rather die.

Instead of releasing Brynleigh, his fingers crawled up her wrist. He encircled her, noting the hitch of her breath as his fingers wrapped around her.

He was a starving man, and every touch she allowed gave him life.

Seconds ticked by. Minutes? Hours? He couldn't be sure. His entire existence was focused on this one gentle caress.

It was at once too much and not at all enough.

"Ry." The nickname was a whispered supplication as it slipped from her lips.

It sent a bolt of desire through him. He shifted in his seat, subtly adjusting himself. Had he wanted her before? Now, he needed her.

Ryker's dreams had not done her justice. He'd never been one for hand-holding, but he never wanted to let her go. His thumb brushed gentle circles over the slow beating pulse on the inside of her wrist.

"Hi," was all he could manage. It wasn't eloquent, but there was no room for that right now.

Several long seconds went by in silence. Was this simple touch shaking the core of her foundation as much as it was his? He'd never imagined something so small could be so life-changing.

She breathed, "I?—"

The door opened with a bang, shattering the moment between them.

Brynleigh jerked her hand away from Ryker as though she'd been burned.

Barely holding in a groan, Ryker turned his head towards whoever had interrupted them. "Yes?" His voice was curt. He couldn't help it. He was finally in the same room as Brynleigh. He didn't want to waste a single moment of their time together.

Wheels creaked as something moved along the floor.

"I've brought your dinner, sir," said a small, meek voice. He hadn't heard it before and assumed it belonged to one of the many humans employed to keep the mansion running.

Their food. Of course. He'd forgotten all about it.

Ryker sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "Thank you."

Porcelain chinked as the server placed several items on the table, working silently.

"Chef has prepared several dishes for you this evening," the server said. "He recommends eating with your hands and discovering the food as you go."

"Oh, no," Brynleigh whispered. The words, though short, were filled with horror.

Ryker's eyes widened beneath his blindfold. What was wrong?

"Miss?" the server asked.

She cleared her throat, and her chair creaked. "I just… I don't exactly eat… food."

Blood rushed to Ryker's cheeks. By the Black Sands, how could he have made such a monumental mistake? He'd somehow forgotten this crucial fact about vampires .

He was a fucking idiot.

Thank the gods, it seemed the chef wasn't as obtuse as Ryker.

"Not to worry," said the server. "Chef has whipped up several vampire-friendly dishes. He took the liberty of lacing them with blood for you, and they're the ones I placed closest to you."

At least someone had their head on straight around here.

"That's so thoughtful," Brynleigh replied after a moment. "Honestly, I didn't expect this. Thank you."

"Of course, miss." The server explained that the chef believed the meal was best explored without further directions. According to him, it would increase their ability to taste individual, unique flavors. The server would be in the hall if they had any questions.

Kydona, the mother goddess the fae had adopted when they crossed the Indigo Ocean, must have been watching over Ryker because the server took his leave after that.

They were alone once again.

The moment the door slipped shut, Ryker turned back to Brynleigh. His fingers clenched and unclenched, and he wished he could see her. "I'm sorry," he blurted. "About the food… I wasn't thinking when I planned this."

That was a mistake he wouldn't be making again. Right after this date, he would find Jacques and Horatio, the two male vampires in the Choosing, and ask them what he could do to make Brynleigh's life more comfortable with him.

No more guesses, no more mistakes.

"No need to apologize," Brynleigh said.

"On the contrary, there is a need." He cleared his throat. "I made a mistake, and I will endeavor to do better by you."

"That's very sweet." The vampire hummed. "You know, we can eat. It's just that when we put food in our mouths, it tastes like ash. Not coffee, though. Thank Isvana, because I love it."

"I love coffee, too." He palmed the back of his neck. "So you're not angry with me? It's alright if you are. I should've thought ahead, and I didn't."

"No, I'm not. No one has ever prepared me food laced with blood before. Honestly, I'm intrigued. "

"By me or the food?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Brynleigh chuckled, "Both."

Somehow, that was exactly what he needed to hear.

They dug in, trying a little bit of everything.

Once in a while, they touched. Each time was as explosive as the first, leaving Ryker wanting more.

Time slipped by. The meal was delicious, and they spoke about nothing in particular as they ate.

Ryker loved every single minute of it.

"Gods, that was good." Brynleigh sighed.

"Yeah?" Ryker chuckled. "You enjoyed it?" He'd quickly adapted to the blindfold, and it wasn't impeding his experience at all.

"It was amazing. I never would've guessed chocolate and blood paired so well together." She smacked her lips and sighed in delight. "I'm going to have to find this chef and get the recipe."

Ryker leaned back in his seat, his stomach full. The chef was undeniably skilled. The plates had varied from a spiced, roasted venison to a shaved, raw salad. Everything he'd tasted had been delicious. "The cake was that good?"

"The best," she gushed. "Thank you, Ryker. Truly. I didn't even realize I missed food until tonight."

The happiness in Brynleigh's voice sent a rush of heat through Ryker. Talking to her was always enjoyable, but tonight felt even better than normal. He wasn't sure whether it was the small, stolen touches or something else. Either way, his heart soared.

Ryker slowly navigated his way around the obstacles of empty dishes and cups strewn across the table until his hand found Brynleigh's once again. This time, nothing was unintentional about how his fingers laced through hers.

She inhaled deeply but didn't pull away. If anything, her grip tightened around his. "Ryker, I don't know if we should?—"

"Dance with me?" he asked before she could finish that thought.

He was all too aware that their time together in the Choosing was slowly slipping away. He didn't want to waste a single second of their remaining time.

A tinkling laugh tinged with darkness slipped from Brynleigh's lips. "What? There's no music."

"We can make our own." Ryker rose to his feet, grateful he'd chosen to wear comfortable shoes tonight. "I want to feel your body against mine."

This date was probably being streamed to the Republic, but Ryker didn't care. He would do almost anything to have this fantastic, intriguing woman in his arms.

He stood beside the table, but she still hadn't responded. He squeezed her fingers. "Please?"

Brynleigh hitched a breath, and he sensed she was still unsure. "I have two left feet," she warned him. "I know most vampires are graceful, but not me. I'm likely to step on your feet."

"Sweetheart, if you think a little clumsiness is going to turn me away from you, you're wrong." He gently tugged on her hand and drew her to her feet. She was taller than most women in his life, and her head rested under his chin. She didn't fight as he brought her closer to him. "I'm all in."

She froze. "You mean?—"

"I want you, Brynleigh." His hand slipped around her hip, settling on the small of her back. "Only you."

"What about the other women?" she asked breathlessly.

"They don't haunt my dreams the way you do." He only wanted her.

"There's still a week and a half," she reminded him.

He held Brynleigh to him as he navigated them away from the table. "I don't need it. I've already made up my mind."

The moment he'd followed Matron Cassandra into the snow, he'd decided. His conversation with Brynleigh about his dad proved he made the right decision.

Brynleigh sucked in a breath. "Does that mean?—"

He bent his head, finding the curve of her ear and brushing his lips over it in the gentlest of kisses. "I want you to marry me, Brynleigh de la Point," he breathed. "I'll ask you formally on the night of the Masked Ball, but there's no point pretending I haven't decided. If you'll have me, I'm yours."

Her heart thundered between them, and he held her close as they danced. Several minutes passed, but he didn't push her for an answer.

"Yes, I will." She rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed against him. "After all, you're what I came here for."

Ryker's heart soared at her words. They were exactly what he wanted to hear.

His body was airy, his feet light, his heart worry-free as he held Brynleigh close. Ryker led them around the room in dance after dance, humming tunes he'd heard hundreds of times before.

Ryker didn't kiss her. Not yet.

It wasn't that he didn't want to—on the contrary, his mouth yearned to be on hers and taste how—but he wanted to save their first kiss for the moment they saw each other face to face.

He was certain she was worth waiting for.