Chapter 40
Chapter
Forty
Titus
“What the fuck?!” My smile practically splits my face as I stride forward.
Ryker’s arms open like thunder, swallowing all my senses. His hug is iron, never wanting to let me go. He smells of a long journey battered by hail-force winds.
I move back, cupping his face to study him.
His short silver-blonde hair is windswept and dirty, suggesting days of travel.
Two arms, ten fingers, two legs, and those eyes of such a rare color, blinking with life, narrowing with a hint of anger that I left him out.
I hug him again. “You’re safe,” I breathe. I glance at Adrian and voice my thanks.
“I’m insulted. Did you think I wouldn’t survive without you?” Ryker flashes his fangs as he smirks. He steps inside Adrian’s office and closes the door.
“What are you doing here? Where are Cyrus, Nero, and Ember?” I press, still feeling the reeling effects of disbelief.
“Still in Lunestra. I did not inform them I left. You know them.” His violet eyes shift as they check me for new injuries. “I knew something had happened after you killed Everett. I’m pissed you only trusted Tristen with this secret.”
“I didn’t want to risk you and the others.”
“That’s not your decision to weigh. We’re a family; we vote.” He holds up his hand. “I know you’ll tell me everything, but first we have a king to kill.”
With his arms crossed, Adrian leans on the wall and says, “I met with your family during their trip to Lunestra,” he shrugs.
“It should have been you who told me.” Ryker lowers his chin and glares at me.
Sometimes his eyes look more like violet thunderclouds than streaks like the rest of us have.
“I was never on Galen’s side. I fought for our family.
On my march to Lunestra, I felt something was off.
The other men kept their eyes on us, as if they were waiting for something to occur. Adrian showed up and told us his plan.”
When I blink, the room is replaced by a memory. Blood coats Ryker’s face, a crimson contrast to his violet eyes. My ears are ringing from my heartbeat; sweat rains down my spine.
For weeks, Ryker’s white hair would have a pink tint. Ember tried to wash it with oils, but it was useless; there was always another battle. More blood. Stings puncture my palms as I dig my nails deep. Metal clashing, shouts of dying men, and crying mothers. The horrors of war grip me sometimes.
A vigorous smack on my back rouses me. “Hey,” Ryker says. Oh, I’m back in the office. “Let’s make you a king.”
Our eyes meet, his searching mine longer than I like. “I never wanted a crown,” I protest.
“I know, but I’m going to shove one on your pretty head. That look on your face tells me I’d better sit down because I have a lot to catch up on.”
“You’ll have to play catch-up later,” Adrian announces.
“Galen planned to return by sunrise. He was going to parade through the streets. Little do his people know he took the leisurely route.” He walks over to a cabinet and grabs a flask.
“It’s a few hours old, but it will work.
Fill up; the night will be long, but the morning will be joyful. ”
Ryker and I take the blood. “I will tell you everything once Galen’s blood is on my hands.”
I raise my glass, but I don’t drink. Selene’s blood still fuels me. “I have a mate,” I blurt, slipping the flask in my pocket.
Ryker almost chokes, his eyes piercing mine. “Who?”
I pause, weighing my words carefully. “The queen.”
Ryker doesn’t laugh. He listens, digests, and reads body language.
“She’s a fae,” I add.
He shrugs, “She could have a dick between her legs for all I care. If you’re happy, then I am too.” He grabs my shoulder. “If anyone has a problem, I’ll deal with them. She’s your mate. She’s family. It’s simple.”
“But Cyrus,” I press. Before he was placed with us, he was enslaved by a fae lord. Slavery is outlawed across all the land, but this lord lived deep in the mountains. No one ventured there; no one saw the horrors that were happening.
Sometimes in battle, I know I’ve lost him. He blacks out, kills those fae, thinking they are the old master who tortured him.
“Cyrus will accept her,” Ryker states firmly, his eyes holding appreciation. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“It’s time,” Adrian voices after a moment of tense silence.
My gaze quickly shifts to Ryker’s chest, where our shared scar is. The crown isn’t on my head, but my neck feels the burden. Ryker’s hand moves from my shoulder to the back of my neck. Silent support.
I can’t thank Everett for everything he’s done, but I whisper gratitude for this, the return of my family, and for leading me to my mate.