Chapter 5 Already Broken, Already Cursed #2
River’s heart didn’t seem to understand that, though. It felt like she was wading through fog as Ryker opened the car door. She slid inside, unable to pull her gaze away from Nikhail.
He was watching her, this man who had said he would pick her up if she broke, and River knew that putting space between them was the right thing to do. The best one for him.
Logically, those were things she understood.
In actuality, it felt like she was taking one of the broken shards of herself and slicing herself open from neck to navel.
Putting space between her and Nikhail shouldn’t have hurt, but it did.
Ryker got into the driver’s seat. “I’m taking you home, Shortie. I don’t think you should be alone.”
That sounded like a good idea. A wise one, since everything was so foggy and dark around River.
But still…
She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “I don’t want to go to Waterborn House.”
She wasn’t ready to see her mother or be surrounded by the horrible emptiness of the place where she grew up. Memories of her father would be in every room, and she didn’t think she could face them yet.
“We’re not.” Ryker put the key in the ignition. “I’m taking you to the farmhouse.”
Relief flooded River’s chest, and for a moment, the fog lifted.
Ryker rolled down his window, where Nikhail stood outside. The sight of the air fae stole River’s breath, and she couldn’t look away, even if she tried. He drew her attention like no one else ever had.
Nikhail, who had stayed by River’s side when she was broken. Who had insisted he would help put her broken pieces together.
Nikhail, who looked like a god, even now.
Nikhail, who was her brother’s best friend and should’ve been completely off-limits.
Nikhail, whom she’d dreamed about for years.
Nikhail, who would never know a moment of safety around her.
A sob crawled up River’s throat, and she forced it down. She couldn’t cry. Not here. Not about Nikhail.
This will keep him safe, she reminded herself.
And in the end, that was all that mattered.
Oblivious to River’s pain, Ryker leaned out the open window. “Thank you for staying with her, Nik. We’ll never be able to repay you.”
The air fae slipped his hands into his pockets. “No repayment needed.” He spoke to Ryker, but his gaze was locked on River’s. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
The words were a promise. A vow that rang through the night air and settled on River’s shoulders. She knew Nikhail would do everything he’d promised in the elevator. He’d drop everything for River, pick up the pieces of her brokenness, hold her together if he could.
And that just made everything worse.
As Ryker drove away from the Hub, he spoke quietly, telling River that Marlowe and Brynleigh were waiting for them at his house.
Tears welled as River stared out the rearview mirror, watching as Nikhail got smaller and smaller, and knew that the night they’d shared would be the only one they ever had.
The air fae had meant every word he’d said, and that was why River would have to be the one to keep him away. He wanted to pick up her pieces, but broken pieces were sharp. Perilous.
If he were close to her, he risked being ruined by her. Destroyed. It would be an accident, but an accidental death was still a death.
And that was unacceptable.
Now more than ever, River had to keep her distance from Nikhail. She would never get to hear him call her his little storm again, never get to fall asleep in his arms and wake up feeling refreshed and ready for the day, never get to know what it would be like to be loved by him.
All because she had proven, once and for all, that she was the Cursed One, and there would be no calming her storm.
Twice, her magic had gotten control of her.
Twice, she’d broken.
There would not be a third time.
The engine cut off as Ryker parked beside the farmhouse he and Brynleigh owned. The lack of noise was somehow louder than the gentle rumble that had accompanied them here.
The drive had been silent, which River had been grateful for. Her thoughts were heavy, and the clouds had gotten darker with every mile that existed between her and Nikhail.
River spent the ride with her legs on the seat and her arms wrapped around them. Now, she rested her chin on her knees, staring at her brother.
The car was off, but neither of them had moved.
Ryker’s hands were back on the steering wheel, and tension radiated through him. The soft glow of the garage light illuminated the otherwise dark night, casting Ryker’s face in shadows.
“I hate that you’re wearing those gods-damned things,” he said roughly, breaking the silence between them.
River frowned, running a hand over the glistening black shackles peeking out from beneath her sleeves. “I know you do.”
“We can return to the Hub and get the keys. They’d be off in less than an hour.” He met her gaze. “I don’t mind driving back.”
Ryker was in pain because of River. She hated that he was hurting, hated that she was making things worse for the one remaining family member who loved her.
But she hated the idea of breaking again even more. Calling a third storm, losing control for a third time, would surely kill her.
Then, Ryker really would be alone.
He continued. “Surely, we can find another way—”
“No, there isn’t. I need to keep them on.”
His knuckles turned white on the wheel. “But the risks—”
“Are worth it.”
River was already cursed.
Taking the prohiberis off would merely amplify the problems she already had. Yes, she was empty. Yes, a gaping canyon existed in her chest where her magic should’ve been. Yes, there was the chance that wearing the manacles would have a negative effect on her mental health.
But at least no one was dying right now. No one was drowning because of her.
That was the most important thing.
Cursed One. Cursed One. Cursed One.
The words paired with the beating of her heart until they were all she could hear. All she could feel.
River was a danger, both to herself and to others. Like an out-of-control wildfire, she needed to be contained by any means necessary.
She silently begged her brother to understand.
Ryker groaned, raking his hands through his hair. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than her, she thought. “Okay, you’ll keep them on for now.”
Ryker made it sound as if her wearing the prohiberis was temporary, but River wasn’t sure that would be the case. Right now, with the clouds hanging over her, it felt like keeping them on forever would be the only way forward.
She kept those thoughts to herself, though. There was no point burdening Ryker with yet another problem. Not when he’d already done so much for her.
Releasing the steering wheel, Ryker sighed.
“We got a room ready for you. It’s yours for as long as you need. After…” He swallowed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “When I got back, I called the hospital and talked to your boss. They’re giving you bereavement leave, and your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready to return.”
“Thank you,” River murmured. “You didn’t have to do that, but it means a lot.”
Yet again, Ryker was proving that he was the stronger sibling. The one who truly embodied what it meant to be a Waterborn.
Unlike River.
Words, which had already been difficult to come by, suddenly felt impossibly heavy. River didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now.
She didn’t have the energy to deal with much at all.
They got out of the car, silence swelling between them, and Ryker fished the house key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and held it open for River. She slipped inside, taking off her shoes and leaving them in the entryway.
The hardwood was cool beneath her socked feet, but she barely noticed as she padded inside her brother’s home.
The farmhouse was over a century old, but Ryker and Brynleigh had redone it before they moved in.
The comfortable yet chic style and open-floor plan fit them perfectly.
Nice to look at, but not overly expensive or pretentious.
The home had a lived-in appeal that Waterborn House had never had.
The windows, tinted darker than most, were sun-safe for Brynleigh.
Photographs of Ryker and Brynleigh’s wedding and bonding days hung on the walls alongside casual pictures of the pair and their dog, Marlowe. It was a home, through and through. As River navigated around the couches and headed for the kitchen, the clouds around her parted. Just for a moment.
Brynleigh was leaning against the large rectangular island in the kitchen.
Her wings, black and smooth like a bat’s, were flared behind her.
Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a forest green sweater and black leggings.
She was the picture of comfort as she flipped through the pages of a magazine, sipping something red out of a glass.
Knowing the vampire, it was probably blood-wine.
The moment Brynleigh saw River, she put down the glass and glided across the floor. Like all vampire-kind, Brynleigh had a too-beautiful-to-be-real quality about her that drew the eye. It was as if she’d been carved from stone when she’d been Made. Every part of her was perfect.
“Isvana have mercy on you.” Pity shone in Brynleigh’s black eyes as she called upon the vampires’ goddess of the moon. “I’m so sorry for your loss, River. Your father was a great man.”
River’s tear ducts were working again. Gods help her, how many more times would she cry today? All of a sudden, everything about this day felt like too much. She was too exhausted for this. The clouds were too dark. The fog was too dense.
River stumbled through the motions of hugging her sister-in-law and thanking her for her condolences, but she felt detached. As if she were merely spectating someone else living her life.
Gods, River was ready for this day to end.
As if Brynleigh knew exactly what was going on in her mind, she put an arm around her and led her up the stairs to a room at the end of the hall.
Ryker followed, or so River thought, but she couldn’t be sure. She was pretty sure they told her to get as much rest as she needed, and they’d talk more when she woke up, but everything was foggy.
River drew the blanket over herself. She curled into a ball, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.