60. Ryker
Ryker
I wonder if it would be possible to open a gateway in space, or in the sky.
Then I could fly one back here and give us a break from this darkness.
I know we can’t stay here. I have no desire to move to Sorynth and be under the king’s watchful eye.
He’d probably force us to be at court with him. No thank you. I can’t stand the man.
“How’s Clara?” Trysten asks, taking a sip of his drink and attempting to mask the burn.
I huff out a laugh, lifting my glass to his. “She’s thriving, actually. I hardly see her. She’s made a lot of friends, and they keep her busy. I’ve invited her to dinner almost every night, and she says no thanks. She’s really taken to Finn, too.”
Trysten’s brows rise. “Is that…good?”
I shrug before swiping a hand through my hair. Do I love it? Hell no, but I can’t be upset. Not when she is getting the attention I can’t give her, and he has been nothing but respectful. Raea also loves Finn. She can’t stop talking about the Elven villages he takes her to.
He seems like a genuinely kind and happy guy.
“It’s fine,” I respond before taking a sip.
“He’s the one who got Clara into the little school here, and he always checks with me before taking her out to the villages to meet more kids.
The other day, she came back with a bottle of shimmering white stuff that she claimed was a gift from the mermaids—”
“Mermaids?” Trysten asks, coughing from inhaling the alcohol too quickly. “Do you ever feel like all the stories we were told as kids, and the ones in the storybooks, are now our lives?” He shakes his head. “It’s weird. So weird.”
I huff out a laugh.
Around us, other Fae and Elven are busy talking in hushed voices.
There’s even a human here. It’s weird—all of it—but looking at the human man now I’m shocked.
He’s older, probably mid-fifties, but he looks frail, like death is nipping at his feet.
Most humans live to be over a hundred, and yet, I feel like I’m looking at a man whose time is running out.
Is that how we looked? Now, when I look around, I see males and females hundreds or even thousands of years old, and the ones that have streaks of gray in their hair even look more alive than that human man. I wonder what I will see when I face my parents.
I stare at the amber liquid in my glass, my grip tightening until the crystal groans under the pressure.
I can't wait to see the look on my father's face when he realizes he is looking at his own mortality while I stand before him—eternal.
He taught me to look my enemies in the eye and smirk. I plan to show him I am an apt pupil.
Gods, I can’t wait. Maybe that makes me an asshole, but I’ve never claimed to be anything else. He taught me well. It’s an act I’ve perfected, except for this time, when I face him again, it won’t be an act.
“Holy sh—” Trysten coughs, remembering that our hearing is superb now.
I follow his gaze to find a female leaning against the bar top. For some reason, the other males aren’t even looking in her direction.
I can't deny she’s stunning, but she isn’t Raea. Trysten looks to be seconds away from getting out of his seat when another female steps into his line of sight.
“Really?” Brynna scrunches her nose before shoving her way into the booth. To my shock, Trysten moves over, allowing the princess to slide in. “She’s a selkie. Breathtaking on land, creature in the water.”
Trysten’s mouth curves up. “Jealous?”
My gaze bounces between them. What the fuck is happening? Since when do they get along?
Brynna scoffs, stealing Trysten’s drink and downing it in a single gulp. Both of us stare at her. Her lips curl into a smirk, using the napkin to pat the corners of her mouth like she’s a princess again. “What? Can’t handle your liquor, boys?”
Trysten rolls his eyes. “What do you want?”
It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Jeeze, thanks. I just needed a moment. Every damn day he tells me how to breathe, how to move…” She sighs, pressing her fingers to her temple.
“I just want to be normal for five seconds. I have a proposition for you.” She turns to face Trysten fully.
“No attachments, but make me forget? I don’t trust anyone else. ”
I cough, turning to look anywhere else. I should not be here right now. I should probably go find Raea. I should go check on Clara. I should go anywhere other than where I am.
Trysten smirks, his voice dropping low as he says, “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“Please,” she huffs. “You being human was unfortunate, but now you’re not. Do you think you can keep up?”
I really wish I could vanish. I wonder if anyone has the power to do it.
Can it be a learned power?
Brynna’s voice drops seductively low. “I like my males hard and controlling.” Her voice returns to normal. “Besides, you seem like you could use the release.”
Before I can protest, she steals my drink, downing it before sliding out of the booth. “You know where to find me, pretty boy.” With that, she disappears.
Trysten is scrubbing at his jaw, looking through the crowd where she disappeared. While he has always been one to let loose, I know deep down, he wants to settle down and find someone to build a life with.
His parents have always lived apart. His father is known for having wandering eyes…and hands. His mother has always played her role as is required of all the nobility, but she lives on the other side of Malaya in a little townhouse.
Trysten has never complained and has always acted unaffected, but I know how much it hurts him.
He hates his father almost as much as I hate mine.
He’s protective of his mother, and I am positive that if he could find a way to break her marriage for her, he would.
Unfortunately, divorce isn’t an option—especially when there’s a Bond.
His mother has had to suffer years and years of heartbreak.
Loving one man while also being repulsed by him.
Trysten has said they’ve tried to work it out before over the years, but his father can’t keep his dick out of places where it doesn’t belong.
“So…Brynna…” I start.
His lips pull at the corner. “She drives me fucking mad. Hot and cold. One minute she’s whispering filthy things in my ear about the Fae female tolerance for—” He coughs. “—things. And then she’s acting like she can’t stand my presence.”
I sit back in my seat, crossing my arms. “You like her.” Not a question. I’ve seen how many women have thrown themselves at Trysten and it’s been nothing but a temporary distraction. He’s nice to them after, but never goes back for more. I’ve never asked why.
Trysten stands, smoothing his forest-green shirt as his expression hardens into something lethal and focused.
“Fuck it,” he grumbles, but there is a spark in his eyes I’ve never seen before.
“She is a headache I want to have. If she needs a distraction, I’ll be the one who haunts her every waking hour.
” He shoots me a wicked grin before disappearing into the crowd, his stride full of a new, predatory purpose.
I stand, the heavy liquor fanning the fire already burning in my blood. The bar is too loud, too crowded, and the Bond is pulling me like a tide toward the beach. With every step it tightens, a living thing in my chest demanding I go to her.
She is mine.
I want to remind her that while the world is falling apart, we are the only thing that is permanent. I push through the doors, my thoughts drowning in the need to feel her beneath me, to have her in my arms where she belongs.