Chapter Sixty-Five
Ryker
I shot upright, heart hammering as adrenaline flooded my veins. Sweat clung to my skin, and my limbs felt leaden. But none of it compared to the deep, gnawing dread that consumed me.
“Cadence.”
Rough hands clamped down on my shoulders, holding me still.
“Easy, Brother.”
My head jerked to the side, and my gaze clashed with eyes so familiar that I would recognize them anywhere. “Riordan. What the hell happened?”
“Mathias used his magic on you. It must have suppressed your powers until you lost consciousness.” Malesh strode into my line of sight, handing me a waterskin. I took it eagerly, bringing it to my lips and drinking deeply.
“Where is Cadence?” I asked, replacing the cork.
“They took her to the dungeons.” My gaze moved toward the voice, landing on Callum as he paced the length of the fireplace, tension written into every step. “We have to free her.”
“Why haven’t you already done so?” I was unable to keep the accusation out of my tone, and my brother bristled.
“Cadence begged me to get you out, and though I wasn’t pleased, I did as she asked.” He sighed, running his hand over his jaw. “Figured our odds were better with you on our side, anyway.”
I forced my fists to unclench as I stood from the bed and grabbed my sword. “How long have I been out?”
“Not long,” Malesh said, but the strain in his voice gave away the lie.
“How. Long?”
Time dragged on before Callum finally said, “One day.”
“An entire fucking day!”
Shadows burst free from my hold, and the air thickened as black tendrils lashed through the room, slamming into the stone walls and sending cracks crawling through the mortar.
I took a deep breath as I forced my shadows back, shoving them into submission.
A day. They’d let her rot for an entire fucking day.
If they had hurt her, if she had so much as shed a tear… I’d murder every motherfucker in this castle, starting with my father.
Eamon would feel my wrath for failing her. I glanced around the room, seeking her guard, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Eamon?”
Malesh lowered his gaze, and Riordan’s features twisted into some emotion I didn’t understand.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“Dead,” Callum said without a hint of feeling. He was so overwhelmed by his fear for Cadence that there was no space left for anything else.
But the single word struck me like a punch to the gut. My knees trembled, and my hands shook as my mind tried to reconcile what I was hearing.
“What do you mean, dead?”
My throat felt dry, and I swallowed around the lump forming there.
“When the guards came for Cadence, he protected her with his life,” Riordan said, his voice rough. “He did his duty.”
My eyes closed, and a sharp pain erupted behind my ribcage.
Dead. Eamon was dead.
But my mate wasn’t, and I wouldn’t let Eamon’s sacrifice be in vain. My resolve strengthened, and I marched toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Riordan asked, jogging to catch up with me.
“To free my wife.”
The corridor outside my chambers was empty, and an eerie feeling settled over me. Not a soul lingered in sight, and it was as if the entire castle had been abandoned.
“Not creepy,” my brother murmured. Callum and Malesh grunted in agreement as we continued down the hall.
A sudden burst of laughter had me halting mid-stride as I surveyed our surroundings.
“It’s coming from the dining hall,” Riordan said, inclining his head to where the faint glow of light illuminated our path.
I quickened my pace as I headed toward the door. The sound grew louder, and the chatter of voices disturbed the quiet. When I crossed the threshold, I found my father entertaining several courtiers. Among them was the Seelie dignitary.
“Do you want to know a secret? I’m the one who went after your mate. And with you out of the way, there’s nobody left to stop me from finishing the job.”
My shadows writhed with the same malevolence coursing through my blood, and my jaw ached from how hard I clenched it.
“You,” I said, pointing toward him. “I hope you’re ready to die.”
“Ryker,” my father said, drawing my attention. “You must understand by now that you are no match for our friend here.” He motioned to Mathias, who smirked back at me. “Fall into line, act as my loyal servant, and I will forgive every transgression.”
My eyes narrowed on him, and a snarl lifted my upper lip. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.”
Mathias rose from his seat without a flicker of doubt in his expression. He was so certain of himself and his magic that his confidence left no room for fear.
Foolish.
“I thought I made myself clear last time, but I don’t mind repeating the lesson if it didn’t sink in.”
His grin was wide, and mine mirrored it. “You’re welcome to try.”
He threw his head back, and a maniacal laugh cut through the tension.
“I do enjoy your company, Your Majesty. Hopefully, there will be no hard feelings when I embarrass you, as I am very much looking forward to working with you.”
My father reclined on his throne, enjoying the spectacle.
“Ryker,” Riordan said, sounding unsure, but I ignored him.
“I’m right here,” I taunted, throwing my arms wide.
Malice twisted Mathias’s features, and he advanced toward me. Shadows curled around my body, dancing along my skin, eagerly anticipating the carnage that was about to unfold.
I let him get close, let him believe he had the upper hand.
When he was within reach, my shadows surged forward, coiling around his wrists in an iron grip. I didn’t hesitate as I drew my sword and swung in a sweeping arc, bringing the blade down to cleave through flesh and bone, severing his hands.
Blood erupted like a fountain, painting the ground in dark, gleaming streaks. His scream tore through the air, raw, guttural, and laced with disbelief. I stood unmoving, dark filaments writhing around him like serpents, feeding on his terror as he crumbled to his knees.
But I wasn’t done.
Gripping him by his hair, I yanked him to his feet, directing my shadows to hold him upright so I could watch as the life drained from his milky eyes. He struggled in my grasp, and my grin grew wide as I sent coils of darkness straight into his chest.
They cut through skin and muscle like it was nothing more than butter, and his screams intensified. I could hear the horrified sounds coming from our audience, and I chuckled darkly as one began to wretch.
I’d only just begun.
My hands reached inside his gaping torso, and I gripped his ribcage. My slow exhale ghosted against his cheek as I leaned in close. “This is for Cadence,” I snarled before wrenching his chest apart.
The sickening sound of snapping bones filled the dining hall, and this time, when he screamed, only a low gurgling noise broke free.
“No hard feelings,” I said, as I wrapped my palm around his still beating heart and tugged, before dropping his body unceremoniously to the ground.
He jerked against the floor. Once. Twice. Then stilled.
I tossed the bloodied organ onto the tiles before lifting my hand to my lips, sucking a finger inside my mouth. The coppery taste of his blood coated my tongue, and a shiver of satisfaction coursed through me.
One down, one to go.
As I advanced toward my father, a deafening clamor erupted from beyond the hall, before a guard skidded to a stop at the threshold.
“The palace is under attack.”