37. Ryker
Ryker
Raea is getting dressed in the clothes we discovered in the armoire while I check on Clara. She’s been asleep since we arrived—most likely from the shock of it all. I hate that I didn’t give her a choice, that I brought my little sister across the galaxy, but she’s safer here than at home.
Cole is the only one I’d trust who isn’t a shadow of a man—but even he shouldn’t have to carry the weight of Clara’s safety.
Besides, he has Linnea and his own child to worry over.
I was the one who was supposed to be her shield.
Every time I look at the healing line on Clara’s palm, I see my father’s face—the man who became her monster before I could even stop him.
I sit on the edge of her bed, brushing back her hair. She stirs beneath my hand, and her lashes flutter open.
In her sweet little voice, she asks, “Anders, are they going to hurt me?”
I shake my head, promising her nobody is going to hurt her.
“Where are we?” she asks, looking around.
“We’re safe, little tidefish. Far away from anyone who can hurt you. I promise.”
She nods, slipping her arms around my hand and closing her eyes with another yawn.
“I need to go talk to Trysten, but we’ll be right next door, okay?”
She hums sleepily but doesn’t open her eyes again. I tuck the blankets in tighter around her and kiss her head.
I find Raea leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “I could watch you with her for hours,” she whispers. “You’re so sweet and tender with her.”
I stand, cross the room, and pull Raea into my arms.
She’s now dressed in loose-fitting pants and a loose shirt that’s so soft I want to run my hands all over the fabric.
“Let’s go,” I say quietly instead, leading her out of Clara’s room.
We knock once, and Trysten answers. Wordlessly, he opens the door, allowing us to step in. Unlike our private suite, this has a central living space with halls and stairs leading in different directions. It’s a mini home inside here.
We find most of our friends already gathered in the living space, drinks in hand and plates scraped clean.
“Some wedding present,” Tate mutters as Raea and I take a seat.
I don’t bother responding.
Raea groans softly, drawing her knees to her chest.
Our Bond pulls at me.
I shift, drawing her back against me until she’s tucked securely into my side.
“How are you guys?” Raea asks.
Kamden and Ciara answer first, appearing oddly unfazed, while Tate announces he’s merely here for the ride. Nothing ever rattles him. Aolyn murmurs that she’s fine, though she’s hugging her middle like she’s bracing for an impact that’s already happened.
Then there’s Kellan. Gods, I wish he had stayed behind. He stops his pacing, his eyes darting toward Raea with demanding energy. “I want to know what the hell is going on.”
I don’t look at him right away. Instead, I adjust my arm where it rests around Raea, a slow and deliberate movement that reminds him she is mine lest he forget where he fits in. Only when she is anchored securely against my chest do I lift my gaze to meet his.
“Careful,” I say, my calm carrying the promise of violence. “That’s the last time you speak to her that way.”
The room goes silent. I don’t need to shout. Not when the silver swirling in my eyes says enough.
“And to answer your question,” I continue, hiding my disdain, “the reason we are here is the same reason we left Malaya behind—survival.”
Kellan’s jaw tightens, but the fire in his eyes flickers.
“We knew we had to come to Auralan,” Raea cuts in, her fingers curling into my sleeve. “To train and meet with Caelus. We’ve been told, repeatedly, to complete our Bond if we want any hope of winning this war”.
Kellan stills. “And why exactly is your Bond so important?”
Raea shivers.
I pull her even closer, my chin resting atop her head. I let the possessiveness in my blood settle as I lift a bored gaze at the man who used to think he had a claim on her. It’s all a game, and I have been playing it for a long time.
I pick a piece of lint off my pants as Raea says, “It’s our Mating Bond.” Her voice carries a weight that silences the rest of the room. “Gifted by creation itself. Not even the gods can form one. There are trials we must face before it settles completely. I think it has to do with our magic.”
I tilt my head, daring him to say something stupid. He’s the first to look away. I smirk. “And just so we’re clear, this isn't a debate. This is our reality. You can either catch up, or you can stay out of the way.”
Trysten clears his throat. “What kind of trials?”
I shake my head, explaining that there have been no clear answers other than it’s essential that we complete it to help win the war.
“I didn’t know she was your sister.” Aolyn looks up from where she is curled into a chair.
“I never saw her. My father said Boyce and I were to go to Malaya for the ceremony because he had more important things to attend to. He’d been growing more and more agitated each time we talked, but he kept Boyce and me away from the palace.
I haven’t even spoken with my mother since we left school.
I only learned about Draerr from what I could learn on The Link. ”
Raea softens. “I believe you, A. I’m sorry we brought you across the galaxy.”
Aolyn looks shattered. The fact that her father was working with Morana for a year, that he knowingly sent his children into a palace slated for slaughter, is a betrayal that rivals my own father's.
“My father made us ghosts in our own home, Raea,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fireplace. “And I didn't know I was being used as a weapon until I saw you standing on that beach.”
“So what now?” Kamden asks.
“Tonight we rest, and then tomorrow, we learn how to win this war. No amount of training could have prepared us for what happened, but we’re here now, and they seem to know how to fight this. So, that’s what we do.”
Trysten nods from where he’s leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed. “I’d like to learn. What are they?”
Raea smiles then, sitting up. “Our people. Fae and Elven warriors. Our bloodlines are the same as theirs.”
The room falls silent as our friends process her words.
I look at Raea, and the way she says our people sends a strange prickle down my spine.
There is a resonance in her voice I haven't heard before—a sense of homecoming that goes beyond finding safety. It’s as if the very air of Auralis is filling in the hollow spaces she’s carried her whole life.
She isn't a Princess of Treon anymore—she is a daughter of this ancient world.
For a fleeting second, I feel like I can see who she would have been if she had always been born Elven.
I awake with a pounding headache. Raea is still asleep, her breath even and shallow. We were up late with our friends explaining all we’ve learned.
Aolyn finally explained what the hell was going on.
Her father has been working with Raea’s sister for over a year. His move to send Boyce and Aolyn to the wedding was to infiltrate the palace and to await orders. She had apologized again and again for lying to us. She promised she didn’t do anything and instead found us as quickly as possible.
I slip free from Raea’s grasp and find Clara stirring in her room, so I leave the door open as I return to the bathing chamber. I slide into the soaking pool, but the warm water and the scent of rosemary don’t soothe me this time.
Yesterday, this water was a sanctuary for Raea and me to connect, to grasp with the horrors of the day. Today, it is only a place to wash. I don’t linger. I scrub off the night, my mind already cataloging our lack of weapons and the unknown strength of the warriors outside.
The time for studying is over. The time for survival has begun.
Once dressed, I find Clara sitting in bed with Raea, sobbing into her shoulder.
Raea runs a soothing hand over Clara’s blonde curls.
I lean into the archway, taking them both in.
I haven’t thought much about the prophecy or my future with Raea.
Getting through the school year and dealing with our powers seemed like a priority.
But now, seeing them like this, it brings an unfamiliar warmth to my chest.
I want to see Raea as a mother. I want to have a family with her.
I spent years watching my mother disappear under my father’s shadow. But watching Raea cradle my sister, murmuring soft comforts meant only for her, I see a future that doesn’t end in pain. I want the house. The children. The quiet, hard-won peace we were never allowed.
The Mating Bond hums in my chest, but my thoughts are unyielding, reminding me of the truth: before I can be a father, I have to be strong enough, prepared enough to win this war.
I have to become the man who can protect his family.
“I want to go home,” Clara sobs. “Is Mother okay?”
Raea holds my sister close, wiping away her tears and pressing a kiss to her forehead before she whispers something along the lines of there are special warriors protecting them.
Sensing my presence, Raea glances up and offers me a soft smile before whispering again to Clara. Clara turns to face me, and I take in her big tears and flushed face. In a handful of strides, I cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her into my lap.
“I’m going to see if we can get her some food,” Raea says, sliding out of bed and pulling on a robe.
As she reaches the door, there’s a knock.
I’m on my feet before the first knock even finishes.
By the time Brynna and Finn walk in, the sweet brother is gone, replaced by a man who looks like he’s already weighed the room and decided how many of them he could kill before hitting the floor. I lean against the archway, my posture deceptively relaxed with my arms crossed.
Brynna’s eyes scan the room, finding Clara in our bed. “Well, she’s awake.” She nods. “We have some clothing for her, and then we’ve scheduled her to be with a tutor for the day. We have lots to do, and very little time—”
“Brynn,” Finn warns as he clenches his jaw. “We talked about this.”
Clara slides off the bed and crosses the room with quiet determination. She takes Raea’s hand, an anchor I realize, then turns to the others, lifting her chin a fraction.
“Princess Clara of Okenen,” she says, her voice clear and brave.
Raea’s smile is radiant as she looks down at my sister.
“Are you the warriors who are helping to protect my family?”
Finn kneels before my sister, with something like awe written across his face. For a moment, nobody speaks. They study each other.
When Finn finally speaks, it’s with a rasp. “We’ve sent our best warriors to help your family and your kingdom, Princess Clara of Okenen.”
For another long moment, neither of them blinks.
It’s Brynna who says, “Okay, enough with the introductions. Please get dressed and meet us in the hall.” She turns and strides right through the door.
Finn doesn’t move from his spot on the floor.
My sister is still studying him, and he’s still letting her. I can only imagine what she’s trying to figure out. Why the tips of his ears are pointed, or maybe why he has tattoos on either side of his head.
When I reach for her, she jumps, causing Finn to stand once more. He quickly exits the room without another word.
“Sorry,” Clara mutters.