Chapter 18
Allie
Igrimaced at the pile of parchments mocking me from the table.
Poor Dax had left my room only ten minutes ago, rolling his aching wrists and with an unsettled look in his eyes after he’d chugged three truth serum vials. We’d spent the entire day hunched over numbers and names.
Each time I read one of them, my breath stuttered as a fresh wave of guilt and helplessness took over.
Some of these people I’d seen dead with my own eyes.
A few had fled Sanctua Sirena, according to Dax.
But most were lost beyond his skills of gathering information. They might have been trapped in Aquila under Silas’ rule, fled to lands unknown, dead.
The uncertainty of it all constricted my chest.
The top of my head burned with the ghost of the crown’s disregard.
The need for justice blazed hotter.
I couldn’t be the one the Protectorate army followed to war.
But Evie–dear, sweet Evie, still too innocent for this Clan world in my eyes–could command the Blood Brotherhood army to help us.
Her might could wash away my powerlessness and shame.
There wouldn’t even have to be bloodshed.
Silas didn’t have the crown, the Protectorate army couldn’t be summoned.
Plus, he was–and always would be–a coward. Seeing the biggest army in Malhaven march upon Aquila would make him flee, I was sure of it.
After that, the possibilities were endless, as long as the Protectorate was free.
I already imagined the lies Silas–and whoever was helping him–would spread.
That I’d sold my soul to ally myself with our enemies.
That I’d spread my legs to convince them to attack my own people.
That I only wanted the throne, and cared about nothing and nobody else.
After all, Silas needed the people to believe in an enemy to legitimize his claim. Since he had none, he’d created one out of me.
It was the oldest trick in the book. If you made the civilians fear and hate someone else, they didn’t have the time or energy to contest the Usurper’s wrongdoings.
It didn’t matter.
I would shoulder the hate if I had to, stand strong against the lies, if it meant the Protectorate would be free.
I began to pace, my favorite release when my mind tormented itself with too many what ifs–and this plan, hazy as it was, had too many of them.
The Blood Brotherhood army had to face the Serpents. A march on Aquila could only happen before or after.
The thought of the Serpents winning was too vicious to indulge. The gods weren’t that cruel.
The Dragon could also refuse to help us. From what Ryker had told me and how Evie blushed at the mere mention of his name, that was unlikely, though not impossible.
Even if Dax refused to acknowledge it, we would become family. One big, dangerous, dysfunctional family–and I was not above using that connection if it meant protecting our people.
Once Evie became queen, we had a claim–
Three loud knocks halted me.
They’d come from the door separating my bedroom from Ryker’s.
The uneasiness melted away as I rushed to open it before my fears could catch up. At the last second, I stopped, hand hesitating over the handle.
I had to let myself be seen.
Vulnerable.
Loathsome little feeling that managed to flay all the soft spots I thought I could keep hidden for all eternity.
I clenched my jaw. I was better than this hesitant, brittle being.
I had to be.
With a dull roar in my ears that screamed at me to run, I jerked the door open. As soon as our gazes met, the world felt balanced once more.
“I heard you pacing,” he said, voice raspier than this morning.
He gripped the top of the doorframe, looking like a cynical god descended from the heavens.
This man truly had a special skill of making every surface he came into contact with seem grateful he’d deigned to rest against it.
“What’s gotten that beautiful mind of yours worked up–”
“I’m sorry,” I regurgitated the words stuck in my throat since the morning when I’d fled his bed, which now felt like a lifetime ago.
They clung in the air, widening his eyes and parting his lips.
But now that they floated between us and hadn’t pushed him away, they didn’t seem all that frightening anymore.
Ryker frowned, tensing. “For what? Don’t tell me Dax has already set fire to something.”
My mouth fell open, the rest of my apology frozen. “Why is arson your first guess?”
“Experience. You climbed onto the fortress when you first got here, he flew. He gets extra points for almost dying, though you also could have plummeted to your death from the frozen roof.” He raised a mighty brow.
“Then you set a fire behind the sweets shop, so I’m expecting a blaze any moment now. ”
“That’s me, a trailblazer.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, cheeks reddening.
“Sadly, I doubt he will try to make a grand escape.” He sighed. “I think he likes it here.”
“Your fault for not throwing him in the dungeon first chance you got.”
“Damn me and my manners.” He sighed again, laughter dancing in his eyes. “So no fire?”
“No, but if you really insist, I’m sure I can persuade him to at least incinerate one of the empty wolf kennels. Would that make you happy?”
“What would make me happy–” He lowered his arm slowly and pressed a finger right between my brows. Warmth instantly jolted through me at the contact, sending shivers down my spine. “–is knowing what caused this particular frown.”
My face softened as his fingers stroked the creases away. “I made a mistake that morning. After you and I–you know…”
After he’d fucked me so good, the only thought swimming in my mind was his name.
Ryker turned serious, the lines of his face sharpening. His hand retreated back to grip the doorframe. Then he stood there.
Silent.
Expectant.
Letting me spill whatever I needed to.
“I don’t know what happened.” I licked my lips. “No, I do. I got scared. Really scared.”
“Did I scare you?” he asked carefully. Tentative. Concerned.
“No!” My hand reached out for his on instinct. To reassure him or myself, I didn’t know, but his warmth gave me the impulse I needed to push the next words out. “I–I liked our night together. I really did.”
A corner of his mouth ticked up, but he still seemed on edge. Waiting for a disaster to happen. “Then what was the problem?”
“I–” I cleared my throat, too many feelings lodged inside of it. “I liked it too much.”
“Then…I apologize for being too good in bed,” he deadpanned, but I saw the proud glint in his eyes. “Heinous of me, truly.”
The bubble of laughter that escaped my lips quieted the galloping in my chest. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?” he asked, and I heard the craving and curiosity drumming through him.
I tapped my foot against the floor, jaw grinding to yank the words out of me.
“I suddenly had too much to lose,” I finally admitted. “And I panicked. Because the last time I felt even an inkling of that, I lost.”
Waden. Pride. Confidence. Trust.
Everything.
Ryker’s hand tensed in mine, bringing both of them to his chest and pulling me into him. There we were in the threshold, him in his room, me in mine, standing on the precipice of more.
“You won’t lose me,” he said fiercely, eyes sparking with a bluer tinge than usual.
“I want to believe that, I do,” I said just as earnestly. “But…”
“But you’ve been burned.”
“Experience.” I huffed a laugh that sounded nothing but sorrowful. “I’ve lost too much to withstand another blow. I can’t. Not right now.”
In the future, when I became myself once more and the wounds hardened, maybe.
But I didn’t even know what being myself even meant anymore. If I wasn’t fighting myself and the world to be worthy of a crown, constantly in motion and worry, who was I?
The fierceness from my past had hidden a bottomless desolation I’d refused to confront. It would have slowly destroyed me.
The weakness of today only made me feel guilty that I couldn’t repatch myself through some miracle.
I was…not lost, but I needed to find all of myself.
“Your heart needs to heal,” he said softly, making me feel seen and understood–which only increased the fear of loss. It was a game I couldn’t win. “It would be an honor if you allowed me to help you with that.”
“I want to.” I nodded too much and too fast. “I really do.”
Escape those fears whispering inside, tripping me at every opportunity.
But I could right myself. Piece by piece.
I stepped back, hand lingering in his right until both of our arms were stretched to the limit, loath to let go.
Then I tugged on his fingers, a silent invitation.
“That is your room,” he said, both hesitant and hopeful.
“I know,” I said with a courage I didn’t feel. “I want to let you in.”
He’d never once trespassed, though this was his fortress. That only made me want him in my room, my space, myself even more.
He followed me slowly, as if wary I might change my mind if he stepped too far in.
We stopped in the center of the room, staring at each other, hands still linked.
These few steps away from the door felt momentous. Like the start of something new that both terrified and gave me strength.
He must have felt the same, because there was a hectic rhythm to his heartbeats, the pulse rushing in his fingers.
“Welcome,” I muttered, more self-conscious than I should have.
“Thank you.” His gaze trailed slowly over the room. “I admit, I’d never thought we’d get to have this.”
I raised my brows.
“Closeness,” he muttered. “You’re right. It’s debilitating to feel you could lose it.”
Silence settled between us, but it wasn’t the comfortable stillness of last night. This one brimmed with tension–and I didn’t know why.
My frown had now taken residence on his face, darkening his gaze.
Had I said too much?
No, impossible. If anything, I hadn’t said it all.
“Allow me to give you the grand tour,” I said, needing to distract us both. Like if I tried harder, I would make it better. I stepped away, instantly missing his heat, and spread my arms in a big arch. “This is the bed.”
“Always good to have in a bedroom,” he said, playing along, but I felt his heart wasn’t in it.
“This is the balcony, where I sharpened that butter knife I pilfered,” I went on, voice thinning.
“You tried so hard not to make a noise,” he teased. Even that had sounded reluctant.
“Yeah, well, I didn't know I was dealing with an unnaturally gifted human.” I tsked. The dull roar in my ears began to ring again. My skin crawled, like I didn’t fit inside it anymore.
I should have been relieved, not fretting.
I turned to the table, busying myself with the parchments as I tried to quiet my galloping heart.
“And this is where Dax and I almost lost our minds today.” I gulped. What in Xamor’s name was going on? “And we’ll keep doing that day in and day out, until we find something.”
“Allie.”
The way he said that word stilled me.
It sounded like repentance.
A cold chill settled at the base of my spine, vanquishing the warmth I’d been indulging in only moments before.
“I need to tell you something,” he went on, stepping closer as my chest tightened.
“I’m–I’m listening,” I said, my entire body on edge.
Please.
Please not another blow.
Not right now.
Wordlessly, he stopped behind me. The sound of a blade hissing through the air filled my room.
He placed a dagger on top of the parchments.
It looked familiar.
Too familiar.
“What is this?” I managed to whisper.
My body recognized it before my mind caught up. Or maybe it simply refused to recognize the glint staring back at me.
“My dagger,” he said. “The one used to kill your father.”