11. Back When They Were Whole

CHAPTER 11

Back When They Were Whole

D iscovering that the vampire you'd Chosen to marry was a cold-blooded killer was one thing, but watching her in action was another entirely.

Ryker had known his wife was dangerous, but this…

He had never expected this.

He was equal parts afraid and strangely aroused by the way Brynleigh moved with swift, predatory grace. She swung the door open and entered the room like a deadly dancer.

A tall, broad-chested Earth Elf with cropped red hair and green markings running along his bare chest and sinking beneath the waistband of his pants stood before a bed. A naked werewolf kneeled on the middle of the mattress. The woman's long brown hair covered her breasts. Her back was red and cut in several places.

They turned as one.

"What the fuck?" the elf growled, dangling a whip made of vines from his fingers. "Who the hell are you?"

"Don't worry about that," Brynleigh replied in a low voice, shadows twining around her legs. "Are you Tathdel Crystalis?"

The Earth Elf narrowed his emerald eyes. "Who's asking?"

Black wings burst from Brynleigh's back through the slits in her sweater, and she smiled. The expression was nothing short of nightmarish.

She snarled, "Your gods-damned reckoning."

By the Black Sands, Ryker really liked the commanding tone of Brynleigh's voice. It stirred something deep within him. That fucking bothered him. He shouldn't like any of this. He shouldn't even be here.

The thing was, even though Ryker's presence in this place crossed a plethora of lines, he didn't regret it. He didn't regret any of this.

He'd make the same deal over and over again if it meant getting Brynleigh out of prison.

Hearing her admit that she loved him earlier had been like ingesting acid. His entire body had burned at her words. But he would endure far more than that to keep her out of The Pit.

Brynleigh turned to the woman and snarled, "Get out of here if you want to live."

The werewolf's eyes widened. To her credit, she didn't waste a second before wrapping a sheet around herself and bolting out the door.

That was probably the right move.

The door slammed behind the fleeing woman, and the Earth Elf tightened his grip on the whip. He looked between Ryker and Brynleigh, his gaze mistakenly settling on the captain's.

"I know you." A wry smile of recognition tugged on Tathdel's lips. "You were in the Choosing. Why are you here? Fuck right off."

The amused expression on the Earth Elf's face disgusted Ryker. He'd read the man's file. Only a monster wouldn't be repulsed by the things Tathdel had done. Apparently, Jelisette was not only part of the rebellion and a cold-hearted vampire, but she also had a knack for finding the world's worst criminals.

This elf did not deserve to be free.

If Ryker had his way and this was his operation, he'd arrest the elf and throw him into The Pit. This was a man Victor Orpheus could torture for weeks on end without issue.

But Orpheus wasn't here, this wasn't The Pit, and all the rules Ryker followed were nowhere in sight.

And then the man glanced at Brynleigh.

Ryker barely suppressed a snarl. He didn't like the way the evil elf was looking at his wife. Not one bit. If it were up to him, he'd claw Tathdel's eyes out so he could never look upon his vampire, or any other woman, again.

But Brynleigh had asked him not to interfere, so he wouldn't.

Ryker raised a shoulder and smirked. "I'm not the one you should be worried about."

By the time the Earth Elf's gaze snapped back to Brynleigh, it was too late.

She'd already wrapped the elf in shadows and advanced with the speed of her kind. Darkness swept out of her, coating the entire room in a blanket of pure night.

Even with his fae vision, Ryker couldn't see a thing. He pressed his back against the wall, his fingers finding the hilt of the knife sheathed on his thigh as he stared into the unnatural darkness.

Nothing impeded his hearing, though.

He had been around death many times. He'd delivered it, witnessed it, called it into being.

But this…

This was different.

The sounds Ryker heard in this room would forever be imprinted on his mind.

In the darkness, the Earth Elf pleaded for mercy. His cries fell upon deaf ears.

A vicious, animalistic snarl ripped out of Brynleigh. It should have frightened Ryker and reminded him that he'd married a killer, but he liked it. He'd always known Brynleigh could defend herself, but hearing it was an entirely different story.

Time seemed to have no real consequence in this room shrouded in shadows.

Seconds, or maybe minutes, passed as the sounds of death washed over him.

Try as he might, Ryker couldn't forget that he was the reason Brynleigh was in this situation. It was his plan that had brought them here, and it was his fault she'd returned to Jelisette.

On some level, this man's death was on his hands.

He'd forever remember the sound of teeth tearing into flesh and the elf's final, strangled cry before silence—blessed, much-needed silence—blanketed the room.

In the quiet, Ryker's heartbeat was a mallet pounding against his chest.

The air seemed to pulse as the shadows receded.

Ryker didn't move until the last dark wisp was gone. His vision adjusted quickly, and his mouth dried as he looked over the scene before him.

Suddenly, Ryker had a greater appreciation of the fact that he'd survived his wedding night. He thought he'd understood how deadly vampires could be, but this…

Brynleigh wasn't just a predator; she was Death.

She stood over the Earth Elf's body, a few stray vines still scattered through the room where he'd tried to fend her off.

The evil man had failed miserably.

His head was bent at an awkward angle, two puncture wounds were on his neck, and a thick, bloody vine protruded from his chest. It was a horrid rendition of spring's first blooms bursting through the snow.

"I had to make sure he was really dead." Brynleigh frowned, eyeing the vine. "He was Mature."

Her voice was strangely cold and detached, almost robotic. It was nothing like the one Ryker had come to know and love during the Choosing.

"I see. You did…" He swallowed past the dryness in his throat. "Well."

Was that what one said when complimenting a killing?

From a cleanliness perspective, Brynleigh remained surprisingly blood-free. A red streak swept across the back of her hands, but other than that, even her braid was still in place.

She fanned out her wings, which were also spotless. Sliding her phone out of her back pocket, she snapped a picture and sent a text.

"Now what?" Ryker stared at the dead man, his stomach churning. "The body…"

Black, unconcerned eyes met his. "We leave him. He's no longer our problem. "

Ryker hated the frigidness in her voice. He balled his fists, but before he could speak, Brynleigh's phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen. "Jelisette is sending a clean-up team. I'm to report to her tomorrow night to debrief."

She talked about this like it was a normal job with normal tasks and consequences.

But it wasn't.

Ryker Waterborn, son of the Representative of the Fae, was officially an accomplice to cold-blooded murder. He wasn't sure it would matter to the courts that the Earth Elf had been an evil man.

There was no going back now.

His only hope—their only hope—was that Brynleigh would uncover useful information about the Black Night.

Neither of them spoke as she extended her hand between them in a silent request. With one last glance at the body, he laced his fingers through her bloody ones, the red speckles a reminder that they were in this together.

Brynleigh drew on her shadows, and then, the Rosewood disappeared.

Ryker's stomach spun as they traveled through the Void, making him eternally grateful that he hadn't eaten in several hours. He closed his eyes, hoping that blocking the blackness would help calm his stomach.

It didn't.

Every second dragged on, feeling endless, until his feet met solid ground once more. The porch light shone through the trees, and the moon glowed above them.

He swayed, legs trembling, and he removed his fingers from Brynleigh's. Bile rose in his throat, his body protesting their form of travel, but he forced himself to keep it down. Throwing up was a sign of weakness, and he hadn't done it in years. He had no intention of starting tonight.

Putting his hands on his knees, Ryker bent in half, dropped his head, and closed his eyes. He forced his lungs to draw breath and let the fresh forest air ground him.

Each inhalation helped, and soon, he felt more like himself.

Several minutes passed before the forest floor rustled in front of him.

Ryker opened his eyes to find that Brynleigh had moved.

She stood a few feet away with her hand outstretched as though she'd been about to touch him. The vampire chewed on her bottom lip, the action sending a bolt of want through Ryker.

Gods, he'd never wished he was a lip more than he did at that moment.

Concern filled her eyes. "Are you… Did I… Was it the body?"

The coldness in her voice had thawed, leaving behind traces of the vampire he'd once loved.

He shook his head, careful not to move too quickly as he straightened.

"No, the shadowing."

It had been years since he'd last traveled with a vampire, and the experience was as unpleasant as he remembered.

"Oh." Brynleigh sucked her lip through her teeth. "That's… good."

Her hand remained in the space between them. Her fingers twitched, the movement capturing his attention. Those hands had just killed a man.

Rationally, he should've been repulsed by that. He should've been horrified that she'd murdered someone while wearing his wedding band.

But he wasn't.

He was drawn to her like she was the moon, and he was a star lucky enough to shine in her presence. He couldn't pull his gaze from her, even if he tried.

So, he didn't try.

Ryker's heart thundered, and every part of him wanted to get closer to Brynleigh. To talk to her, kiss her, forgive her.

He needed her.

Exhaling, Ryker murmured, "There's blood."

"What? "

He reached out and captured Brynleigh's fingers. They were so soft, so much smaller than his. So right.

By the Obsidian Sands, how he'd missed this. Her. Them. Touching.

He could barely think, barely breathe. His entire world revolved around the sensation of her hand in his.

Gently, he tugged her closer.

Thank all the gods, she didn't pull away. He wasn't sure what he would've done if that had happened.

A groan rumbled through Ryker's chest, and his entire body warmed at their nearness.

Fuck, he'd missed this more than he could ever put into words. They hadn't had nearly enough time together. Before he could think too hard and convince himself this was a bad idea for numerous reasons, he brushed his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

Brynleigh breathed his name, and gods help him, those two syllables had never sounded so right.

Ryker was in this now, for better or for worse.

Holding her gaze, he inhaled deeply. Her unique scent of a crisp evening and night-blooming roses flooded him.

The touch wasn't enough.

He needed more. He needed all of her.

His feet carried him closer. He couldn't help it.

As bees were drawn to flowers and rivers were drawn to oceans, he was drawn to Brynleigh. She might destroy him, might ruin him, but at that moment when they were finally touching again, and neither of them was pulling away, he didn't fucking care.

Maybe being ruined wouldn't be so bad if she was by his side.

"See?" Ryker's thumb stilled on the back of Brynleigh's hand, pointing to the red streaking across her pale flesh. "Blood."

She sucked in a breath, and he dragged his eyes up to her mouth. Those lips that he'd dreamed about parted, and he glimpsed her fangs nestled in her gums.

"Oh," Brynleigh breathed, the sound drawing him straight back to their wedding night. "That… happens."

It did seem like a rather normal side- effect of killing someone.

Stillness overtook them both. Each moment, each breath, was longer than the last.

He noticed everything and nothing at once.

Birds sang melodies from within the woods. Wolves howled, a pack responding to their leader. Stars shone brightly, lanterns in the sky providing witness to this stolen moment.

Every second was somehow the longest and shortest moment of his life.

Still, neither of them moved.

He should let go. He should walk away and give himself a stern talking-to. He should, but he couldn't.

Somehow, Ryker knew that if he stepped away now, he might never get to touch her again. And damn it all, but he refused to allow that to happen.

Instead, his fingers curled around hers.

Not too tightly—they both knew she could break his hold in a heartbeat if she wanted to—and his gaze crawled up to hers.

Ryker slowly swept his thumb over her moonlit hand until he got to Brynleigh's fourth finger.

"Why did you keep the ring?"

It felt like their wedding had been years ago, not a mere month. How was it possible that so much had happened over such a short period of time?

Her obsidian orbs shimmered with an emotion Ryker wasn't ready to unpack.

"You gave it to me. Even when I thought you were dead…" A choked sob slipped out of Brynleigh, and she shuddered. "I kept it."

Ryker swallowed. It meant something that she was still wearing his ring, just as it meant something that she wasn't pulling away from him. His thumb traced the cool metal, turning it around her finger slowly. He'd spent hours mulling over engagement ring options until he found the perfect one.

Back when he thought she loved him.

Back when they were whole.

Back when he had no idea who she truly was.

So much had happened between them, and yet …

Ryker didn't know if they could fix this. The only thing he knew for certain was that being with Brynleigh felt right in a way that nothing else ever had. It was like they were two parts of the same whole, always meant to be together.

Everything else faded away. He didn't notice either of them moving, but eventually, barely a foot of space existed between them.

The air was so thick that he could hardly breathe. His magic pulsed, his heart thundered, and everything within him urged him to close the distance between them.

Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the dead Earth Elf, not Brynleigh's betrayal, not his anger over her murderous plans.

It was just them and the feeling of rightness deep in his soul.

He breathed her name, and he tightened his grip on her fingers.

Just one kiss.

That's all he wanted. A taste, a reminder of what they had, and then they could go back to figuring everything else out.

Ryker bent his head, his breath dancing over her mouth as he drew closer. He moved slowly, giving her time to pull away, but she didn't. His heart boomed, and he felt like a youngling going in for his first kiss.

Wide-eyed, Brynleigh gripped his fingers. Something dangerously akin to hope shone within her eyes.

She breathed, "Ryker?—"

A shrill ring sliced through the silence like a bolt of lightning cutting through a stormy night. Ryker's phone vibrated in his back pocket.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his heart sinking like a stone.

Brynleigh blinked, and a shadow flickered around her hand. She stepped back, eyes shuttering, but not before he saw the flash of pain and disappointment in her eyes.

It echoed the ache in his soul.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew the phone. Swiping to answer, Ryker didn't even look at the screen, keeping his gaze on Brynleigh.

"Yes?" he barked, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

"Ryker?"

Oh gods .

"What's wrong, River?" He clutched the phone. "Have you been crying?"

She sniffled. "I…"

Ryker braced himself as he asked the question he'd feared every night for the past six years. "Did you lose control again?"

Dozens of worst-case scenarios paraded through his mind, each worse than the last. A canyon opened up in his stomach as he waited for his sister's response.

River half-choked, half-sobbed, "No, but… I need you."