8. Butterflies and Silence

CHAPTER 8

Butterflies and Silence

" W hat's your favorite childhood memory?" Ryker reclined in the hammock as he waited for Valentina to answer.

A few days had passed since their initial introduction, and he liked the fae. Not only was Valentina sharp-witted, but she had a fire in her. Ryker had a gut feeling his mother would love Valentina if he brought her home. They'd already been chatting for a half-hour, and Ryker smiled frequently during their conversation. He liked that.

Valentina chuckled. "I don't know if you'll believe me."

Curious, he raised a brow. "Try me."

She paused, and for a moment, he wasn't sure she'd answer. He ran this thumb down the side of his mug and waited.

"Are you familiar with the goldback butterfly?" she asked. Her voice was different than it had been earlier. Softer, like a harsh edge had been scrubbed away.

Ryker's brows furrowed. "No, I can't say that I am."

A sigh. "They're rare." Valentina paused. "When I was younger, I was rather… isolated."

Ryker understood that. For the past six years, he'd gone to great lengths to stay away from others. It was the best way to protect his family. "That must have been difficult."

Even as an adult, loneliness had often courted Ryker. He'd only kept it away during his prolonged isolation because of his dog Marlowe, his friends, and trips to his cabin.

"It was." Valentina drew in a breath through her teeth. "Anyway, I was alone a lot. Mother was often at work, and I spent time in the library when I wasn't at school. One day, I was reading an encyclopedia and found a picture of a goldback butterfly. It was beautiful. The wings shimmered in the afternoon sun like they were made of gold. The butterfly called to me."

"It sounds lovely."

"It was. The goldbacks were all I could talk about for months. I became obsessed with them, talking about them for hours. One day, Mother came home early. I'll never forget it because she'd abandoned her formal business wear for jeans and a yellow sweater. ‘I have a surprise for you,' she told me." Valentina's voice took on a wistful tone, and he could've sworn her breath caught. "It was my first and only surprise ever."

A pang of sadness went through Ryker's heart, and he dropped his pen. He'd never had a great relationship with his mother—Tertia Waterborn was a fierce, sometimes cold woman—but she'd taken great care to spend time with her children. Enough that he never felt ignored by her.

Evidently, that wasn't the case for Valentina.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"Don't be. It was a beautiful surprise. She arranged an entire trip for me. I had her to myself for twenty-four whole hours. We went to a botanical garden in the Southern Region, where goldback butterflies were abundant. They flew around us in a flurry of shimmering gilded wings, landing on our heads and shoulders. It was amazing."

Ryker could picture the swarm of yellow wings caught in the afternoon sun. "It sounds incredible."

"It was," said Valentina. "I?—"

"This date will end in sixty seconds," Celeste interrupted, her robotic voice jarring Ryker from the calm he'd settled into. "Please prepare to say goodbye. "

The headphones clicked, and Ryker sighed. "I'm sorry, Valentina," he said. "But?—"

"I heard." That harsh, polished edge was back. "It's fine. It was nice to speak with you, Ryker."

And as they wished each other well, he agreed. There was far more to this fae than he'd ever guessed.

After his date with Valentina, Ryker's next few were… not as wonderful. That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy talking to the other women, but there was no connection between them. His mind wandered. When Calliope, an Earth Elf, was telling him about her job, his eyes grew heavy, and he almost drifted off to sleep.

By the gods, he had to pay attention. He needed to find a wife. His father didn't have long. The Stillness…

"Good afternoon, Ryker," said Brynleigh.

He hadn't even realized the music had stopped. Nevertheless, Ryker smiled, eager to spend time with the vampire today. He'd already come to recognize her voice. A spark came to life within him every time they spoke. Whatever tiredness vanished as he settled in. "How are you today, Brynleigh?"

"I'm… alright." Her tone made it sound like she was anything but.

An alarm blared in Ryker's mind. Finding out what was wrong was the only thing on his mind. "What's the matter?"

A long, heavy silence stretched between them. Ryker rose from the hammock, needing to stand. To do something. He wasn't one to let the people he cared about be hurt, and even though the Choosing was barely underway, he already felt something for the vampire.

"You can tell me," he murmured after a few minutes of silence.

"This… today… it's a difficult day," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Were those… tears he heard? Ryker's chest seized at the thought. He balled his fists at his sides. His water magic, which was usually calm, thrummed within his veins. It wanted him to climb over this wall and find the woman hurting on the ot her side.

But he couldn't. One glance at the guards, the blinking lights, and the other participants conversing quietly with their dates reminded him of that.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked instead.

Another pause. Each one was longer than the last. Heavier. Was she sitting? Walking like him? Was she crying quietly in a corner?

By the Sands, he wished he knew.

"I lost someone," she whispered. "And this is… it's the…"

Her voice trailed off, but he had heard enough. Ryker recognized the grief in her voice, the depth of hurt, the old wounds. He was deeply familiar with the kind of pain that rooted itself so deeply within oneself that there was nothing one could do except live with it.

"The anniversary?" he guessed, wishing he was wrong. Hoping he was wrong.

More silence.

He returned to his hammock, letting his head fall into his hands.

Eventually, she sighed, "Yes."

He rubbed his temples. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

She drew in a shuddering breath. "Me too. I'm so fucking sorry. I wish… they should still be here."

"I'm here if you want to talk about it," he offered.

Sometimes, when the Stillness got worse, talking about his dad helped. Reliving old memories or sharing something simple. On other days, words were impossible. Grief stole them from him, and he could barely get out of bed, let alone talk.

He would do whatever Brynleigh needed.

Another long moment passed before she said, "Can we be quiet?"

Her request was soft, and it went straight to his heart. He wished he could see her. Hold her. Embrace her until her grief passed. But he couldn't.

This , though, he could do. "Of course."

The rest of the date went by in contemplative, heavy silence.

That night, when Ryker went to bed, he realized there had been a comfort he'd never experienced before, even in that quiet. He hated that Brynleigh was hurting, hated that she'd gone through an entire day of dates with grief in her heart, but she'd opened up to him. Shared it with him.

And that made him feel… good.