22. The Tenth Rule is the Most Important

CHAPTER 22

The Tenth Rule is the Most Important

R yker's fingers tightened around Brynleigh's as he led her up the concrete front steps of Moonwater Prison.

From the outside, the red-bricked, three-story building looked like a boarding school. A scary one that promised nightmarish headmasters, rods across the backs of legs, and agonizing punishments, but still, a school.

It was all a lie, though. The interior of this building was anything but scholarly.

Ryker hated that he was bringing Brynleigh here, but she'd insisted on coming with him. She was so strong, this wife of his, but sometimes she made him want to tear his hair out. It had taken two days for Ryker to receive the necessary permissions to come to Moonwater Prison, but they were finally here.

"This is where they're keeping Zanri?" she murmured as they climbed the last steps.

He nodded, squeezing her hand once in affirmation.

A week and a half ago, Zanri Olyt had been transferred here for continued interrogation. He would remain here until he was released… or he died.

The latter was far more likely than the former. Most of the Republic' s prisoners were never released. Not after they entered the depths of the justice system.

"I've got you," Ryker reminded Brynleigh as their feet hit the landing. A ward crawled over his skin, buzzing like a bee. Not only would the ward protect the prison, but it would alert the wardens of their presence. "I promise."

"Thank you." Brynleigh tugged the sleeve of her oversized black sweater, her outfit looking more like she was going out for a night on the town than into a prison.

"Of course." He would protect her until his dying breath.

Placing his palm on the scanner embedded in the wall by the front door, he smiled reassuringly at her. A red light flashed as the scanner read his handprint, and locks tumbled.

The massive black door swung open on its own volition.

Ryker squeezed Brynleigh's hand, a silent reminder that he was here. She was strong, but even the strongest people felt afraid sometimes.

He walked slightly ahead of her as they entered the expansive lobby. Black marble tiles complemented dark walls stretching two stories high. Two tall, leafy green plants stood sentinel on either side of the door. The only other furnishing was the expansive desk in the middle of the space.

Green eyes were trained on them. An Earth Elf dressed in military gear sat behind the desk, his appearance incongruous with their faux-academic surroundings. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying the green Maturation mark running up his left arm like a vine. The soldier's black hair was cropped short, and he sat perfectly straight in his chair. Though Ryker couldn't see it, he was certain a gun was strapped to the man's belt.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

The air in this space was heavy, and Brynleigh's icy fingers twitched in Ryker's as she pressed against him. He wasn't sure she knew she was doing it, but his chest swelled with masculine pride. She was seeking safety in him, and by the Black Sands, it made him feel something he had thought was forever lost.

He wouldn't let her down.

"Captain Ryker Waterborn?" The elf behind the desk finally spoke.

"Yes," Ryker replied. "We're here to see Prisoner 07562."

The Earth Elf's gaze swung over to Brynleigh, and he frowned. "It's highly unusual to bring visitors here, Captain."

Disapproval dripped from the soldier's tone, and there was nothing kind about the way he looked at Ryker's wife. Obviously, the fae captain knew visitors didn't visit Moonwater often. After all, prisons weren't high on the Republic of Balance's list of tourist destinations.

"I'm aware, but the circumstances warrant it." Ryker canted his head.

He'd used a considerable amount of influence to get the clearance. Sometimes, there were benefits to being the son of a Representative. It wasn't the first time Ryker had pulled strings using the power of his name, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Being a Waterborn was fucking exhausting, but there were some advantages.

The Earth Elf furrowed his brows. "Still, some would say this is rather foolish?—"

"I'm bringing her in," Ryker said, his tone brokering no room for discussion. "I have the clearance to be here, and so does my wife."

Inwardly, he acknowledged the Earth Elf might be right. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that his actions bordered on being foolish. After all, he was taking the woman who had planned on killing him just over a month ago on a sensitive mission. However, there was a high likelihood this would provide them with the break they needed to learn more about the Black Night, so it was worth the potential risk.

Outwardly, Ryker showed no sign that he thought the Earth Elf's words had any value. He ranked higher than this soldier, and he was done with this conversation.

Several tense moments passed before the Earth Elf seemed to realize arguing wouldn't get him anywhere. He dipped his chin, stood, and strode to the door behind his desk. His movements were stiff as he punched a code into the keypad.

"Good luck," the guard said dryly, swinging open the door.

Grunting a reply that sounded somewhat like, "Thanks," Ryker placed his hand on Brynleigh's lower back and led her past the desk.

The door slammed shut when they crossed the threshold, leaving them in a frigid, dimly lit corridor. The stone walls and cement floor lacked the lobby's beauty, reflecting this place's true, depraved nature .

Ryker curled his fingers around his wife's.

"Welcome to Moonwater Prison," he said grimly.

The room they sought was located on the third floor. The scholarly atmosphere was long gone, leaving them surrounded by institutional, white-washed walls, locked doors, and windowless corridors. It was nighttime, but that didn't matter in here. Bright lights shone from the ceiling, chasing away even the hint of shadows.

Guards were strategically placed throughout the prison, stoically standing watch as Ryker and Brynleigh strode past. Unlike the Earth Elf at the entrance, none of them attempted to stop them.

The first two floors had been loud, filled with a symphony of pain. Endless screams and cries had come from the cells.

Ryker would take those dreadful melodies over the eerie silence of the third floor.

There were no more screams. No more pleas for mercy. Somehow, the quiet was even worse. Every beat of his heart was too loud, every breath too much.

He gripped Brynleigh's fingers. She hadn't spoken since they left the Earth Elf at the entrance.

Maybe he should've pushed back more on bringing her here, but it was too late. The cell they sought was right in front of them. Black numbers were etched onto the white door. A silver scanner was above the handle, like the one they'd encountered entering the prison.

Institutional. Secure. Cold. Heartless.

A dozen other prisons within the Republic fit the same description.

Brynleigh pressed herself against Ryker's side, and she shivered.

"This is where they're keeping him?"

Her voice was so quiet that he had to strain to hear her.

"Yes."

"Oh."

They stared at the door for a long minute but couldn't wait forever.

Raising his free hand, Ryker scrubbed it over his face. "Before we go in… You might not like what he has to say. "

By all accounts, Zanri had been forthcoming with his answers. That wasn't entirely surprising. Most people talked after weeks of torture. Ryker had studied notes from the interrogations, and there was one common thread: the shifter was angry. Not that Ryker blamed him, but he didn't want the man directing that anger towards his vampire.

Brynleigh had enough to deal with already.

"I know, but… I need to do this. I thought he was my friend." She looked up at him, her black eyes wide and sorrowful. "Right up until those last moments, I thought… but I was wrong."

He tightened his grip around her hand, even as his heart cracked for Brynleigh.

Ryker's instincts had him wanting to hurt the shifter for betraying Brynleigh in such a manner. That wouldn't help anything, though.

Instead, he reiterated his promise from earlier, knowing he would say it a thousand times over if it made her feel better.

Brynleigh drew in a deep breath, and she dipped her head.

"Alright, I'm ready."

The captain didn't do her the disservice of questioning whether that was true. He didn't really think anyone could be ready for what awaited them, but his vampire was strong. If anyone could handle this, it was her. And if she couldn't, he'd be here for her. Just like he promised.

Ryker placed his hand on the keypad. Once the light turned green, he twisted the handle.

"Let me go first," he murmured, brushing the lightest kiss against her temple.

To her credit, Brynleigh didn't fight him.

Ryker pulled his hand from hers, instantly missing their connection, and stepped inside the cell.

Gods, it was tiny. The space was maybe ten feet long and four feet wide. A metal cot rested against the wall. The floor and walls were made of cement. The only light came from a flickering yellow bulb dangling from the ceiling. It barely lit the cell, casting it in shades of grey despair.

And the smell. The air was thick with sweat, blood, and sickness.

A ghost was huddled on the cot, the shifter was barely recognizable as the man who'd attacked Ryker a month ago.

Brynleigh whimpered as she entered .

"Isvana have mercy on us all," she breathed.

Ryker knew the prisoner was in bad shape, but this was worse than he'd expected.

Red hair coated in blood and grime hung limply around the shifter's face. Black and blue bruises covered his visible skin. Dried blood crusted his lip. Several deep cuts were scattered over his body. They weren't healing.

Zanri cradled his right arm to his chest, the bone jutting out oddly from the socket. Thick prohiberis manacles were attached to the shifter's feet, connected to a chain locking him to the bed. He had just enough leeway to get to the small toilet and sink in the corner, but that was it.

The shifter's name left Brynleigh's lips on a whisper, but the man didn't show any sign he'd heard it.

Brynleigh glanced up at Ryker, eyes wide with horror. Then, she darted around him to the sink before Ryker could stop her. She ripped off her sweater, leaving her in a black tank top, and turned on the tap.

The shifter was a statue on the cot.

Ryker's gaze darted between the prisoner and his wife. Fuck, taking Brynleigh here had been a bad idea. Why had he thought he could keep his wife under control? He'd stupidly assumed she would stay behind him at all times.

Clearly, he'd been mistaken.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

She dipped the sweater under the tap, soaking it. "I'm helping him."

Before Ryker could tell her what a dangerous idea that was—the man was in chains for a reason—she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes flashed as if to say, Just try to stop me .

By all the gods, why had Ryker Chosen such a strong-willed wife? Most people never dared to talk back to him, and yet Brynleigh was challenging him in the middle of a fucking prison.

Damn it all, he was equally frustrated and turned on.

Ryker balled his fists and clenched his teeth as Brynleigh took her damp sweater and approached the shifter. His magic urged him to act, yet he trusted his wife. He'd seen her kill. Surely, she could handle a broken man in chains .

"Z?" Brynleigh whispered. "Can you hear me?"

The shifter's gaze was still trained on the floor.

Brynleigh inched closer.

"It's me," she murmured, standing in front of the cot.

Long, agonizing seconds passed before a chain creaked. The curtain of hair slowly parted as the feline shifter looked up.

His gaze sharpened before flickering with recognition and… fear.

"Fuck, no," the man rasped, his voice sounding like he'd been screaming for hours. "Get out of here, B. She'll kill you for this. The rules… you know the rules."

"I do." She crouched in front of him, her brows furrowed. "But I already broke them."

Her voice was gentle, as though she was afraid to speak too loudly lest she spook him.

The shifter shuddered. "The tenth rule is the most important. That's what I keep telling them. Rule number ten. I can't break it. But I did. You did."

"Zanri, it's okay," Brynleigh whispered.

"We all broke the rules and the game… the game… the game is over." He swayed back and forth, and his voice had an almost frantic tone.

By the gods, the man was shattered.

In the videos, the shifter had been in pain but still sane. His words had made sense. But now…

This kind of suffering could only be caused by Victor Orpheus.

Ryker already knew the fae was a sadist, but seeing the proof with his own eyes was another matter entirely. Thank all the gods, he'd gotten to Brynleigh when he did.

If Ryker had shown up later and found her like this…

Ryker would've killed them all. There was no question in his mind. Laws or not, he would burn the entire fucking world for his vampire.

"Don't worry about me." Brynleigh lifted the damp sweater. "Will you let me help you?"

Another long moment went by before the prisoner nodded.

Brynleigh's movements were slow and methodical as she ran the material down the shifter's face. She was gentle, but he still winced.

Despite the prisoner's current state, Ryker didn't trust him. He watched silently as Brynleigh cleaned the shifter's face and neck but touched her shoulder when she moved onto Zanri's right arm.

"We don't have long."

Even the Waterborn name and Ryker's position in the army couldn't buy them an endless amount of time in Moonwater Prison. They would have to leave soon, hopefully with the necessary information.

Brynleigh nodded, moving down the shifter's arm to his hand.

Three of his fingers were bent, and dried blood was crusted under his broken fingernails. Ryker didn't like the prisoner, but he couldn't help but feel bad for him. No one deserved to be treated like this.

"We need your help, Zanri," Brynleigh murmured. "That's why we're here. "

Silence.

Undeterred, she ran her cloth over his fingers. "It's about the Black Night."

The shifter bucked. He pulled his hand from hers, widened his eyes, and shook his head violently.

"I can't… I don't… Please." He gripped the mattress with white-knuckled hands, and his breaths were battered. "She'll make me wish I were dead if she knows I talked. I can't."

Terror leaked from the shifter, tasting bitter in the back of Ryker's mouth. The fae pulled on his magic, ready to use it in a heartbeat if necessary.

Brynleigh placed her hand on the shifter's leg.

"Breathe, Z," she commanded softly. "We won't tell anyone the information came from you. We just need some help."

The shifter's ragged breaths were the only sounds Ryker could hear, and his heart raced from the fear in the man's eyes.

Who was Jelisette that she inspired such emotion from a once-strong shifter?

The broken man raised his gaze.

He didn't look at Brynleigh but at Ryker. "Do you love her?"

Despite the strangeness of the question, the fae captain didn't hesitate to answer. "I haven't stopped."

Truth. Even when he hated her, he still loved her .

The prisoner's eyes sharpened. For a moment, he appeared lucid.

"Take care of your love," he instructed. "Don't let her get her claws into it. Don't let her infect what you have. Owen and me… she destroyed us. Twisted us into something… Don't allow her to do that to you."

Ryker dipped his head. "I understand."

Zanri's gaze was intense and piercing as he studied Ryker for a long moment before he nodded. He turned his attention back to Brynleigh, who'd begun washing his left arm. "What do you need?"

Without divulging the confidential information about Ryker's deal, Brynleigh told Zanri about the book she'd found and its coded letters.

"You're searching for the cipher?" Zanri's voice wavered, and he slumped. "I… I shouldn't. The rules…"

"Please, Z. The rebels attacked a school ." Brynleigh squeezed his hand. "They need to be stopped. Do you know where we can find it?"

The shifter's chest heaved as though he'd just run a race. His gaze swung like a pendulum between the couple before landing on Ryker's.

"I think I know where it is, but you won't like this, Captain."

And as the shifter explained what he knew, a hole yawned in Ryker's stomach. By the Obsidian Sands, things were getting worse and worse.

Why couldn't anything ever be easy?