32. Evanee
Evanee
“Me?” I breathed.
“We never knew what went on in the castle. I always stayed far away. We’d heard Aiden was engaged to the most beautiful Gargoyle the kingdom had ever seen, but I didn’t care.
Even when you came that day to meet him, I stood at the back, hidden.
I didn’t even look up.” His mouth hooked at the corner, whereas my face wrinkled.
“The day we were to make our escape, Aniah begged me to wait. She didn’t tell me why, but even Malachai held me there. Urging me to trust her—so I did. That day she brought you out that door, I knew I couldn’t leave.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks as his gaze drifted to mine. My pulse quickened, and so did the wind outside as his eyes glazed silver.
“Why?”
He cast his gaze down as he came to sit next to me.
“As I said before, I saw my own darkness reflected in you. I wanted to help you.”
Oh. I didn’t know why I’d thought it might have been something more. The same pull I’d felt. My gaze flicked from the fire to the window—fog snaked through the trees, butting up against the window.
“Wait—did you cause the fog and the blizzard with the useo?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “Had to cover my scent from Aiden.”
“I nearly had frostbite that night!”
He snorted. “Memory loss or not, your Gargoyle would've heated you eventually.”
“When did your eyes change?”
“Watka said the silver appeared before my coloring set in. Around 12 years old. I had no idea until later. He taught me how to control it. Hide it. But it took time. I didn’t always have this white hair.
” A half smile appeared. “It used to be black.” My brows shot up.
Like Aiden’s. No—he’s nothing like Aiden.
“Why the change?” I asked, clearing my throat. A weak attempt to hide my discomfort.
“Watka had me practicing wielding lightning. I was struck many times.” He laughed, the sound rich and striking straight to my belly. I shoved the feeling down.
“How are you not dead?”
“Because with the powers I have, he taught me I had to respect them. I never demanded lightning come to my hand; I asked the storms to put it there, coaxed it. But if I became too abrasive, it'd strike. Hurt like hell, but it always felt more like a reprimand. Hard to explain, I guess. You’re looking at me like I’m crazy,” he chuckled.
“I just can’t imagine… asking a storm to help you. Did no one question your hair changing color?”
“No. No one ever did. Guess they assumed it had to do with my coloring.”
A beat of silence passed between us, only the cackling flames filling the space.
“But why kill my father?” I asked hoarsely.
“My guess is the Queen commissioned his death, thinking she'd get to him before he could… well, create you.”
I finally tipped the glass back, grimacing as the contents burned hot in my throat.
“Aniah told me the Fae King made a deal with the Coven to serve as their sword if they'd give him power in return. They couldn’t offer him true magic, so instead they made that object so he could channel. But when Aniah stole it, I can only assume the King refused to march on the Southern Realm.”
“What the hell did Aiden or his mother hope to gain from betraying our whole realm?” I ground out.
He tipped his glass from side to side.
“Maybe it was to ensure Aiden a top spot in whatever new world the Coven is trying to create. The Coven wanted all powers other than Witches to disappear completely, thus creating a world where they were—”
“Goddesses?” I offered dryly, the hurt over my father quickly turning to anger.
“Basically. "
“Wait—how were they going to get power from me? Aiden had said they would… pull something from me. From our… children.”
Ryker knocked back his glass before continuing. Anger flashed across his face.
“Aniah said there’s a transference spell—once you had a child, the Coven could transfer the child’s power to the father.” He poured and threw back another, as if the spell made him as sick as it did me, then poured more in my glass. “At the expense of the child’s life.”
My fists tightened in my lap as I thought of Aiden and these past weeks. My skin crawled as I remembered how he touched and toyed with me—I shook off a chill, fighting the urge to scream.
“How do you know all of this?”
“Aniah and I pieced a lot together during our years searching for you.”
“Why save me?” I asked as I swirled the liquid, avoiding his gaze. “I know we’d become friends…” More than that. “But why risk yourself? Survivors surely needed you and Aniah to stay and help.”
His gaze hardened as he looked into his glass.
“We couldn’t risk them gaining power through you.”
A whipping from Blanche would have been better than his words. Hell, I’d take the infuriating pain in my back over this.
“That’s the only reason?” I snapped before I could stop myself. Ryker straightened, brows furrowing further. Tears burned my eyes, and as he opened his mouth to speak, I cut him off, not wanting him to see the hurt—
“What makes you think the Queen killed your mother? You didn’t actually say.” I kept my gaze from him, willing my tears not to fall.
He cleared his throat.
“I received word my mother was gravely ill while I was off continent. I returned in time to say goodbye. It’d been too sudden—I knew there’d been foul play.
I talked to the staff and watched the Queen from the shadows as she tended her herb garden and saw her grove of deadly plants.
That’s when I knew. She loathed me—my very presence, but she had absolutely hated my mother.
Besides, my father had me watched too closely for her to get to me.
But my mother… I should've been there,” he growled.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” The words felt empty. I was sorry—I hated that he'd experienced that. But I was still digging out the knife twisting in my heart from his other admission.
“I should be apologizing to you. I should never have allowed myself to… grow close to you. To agree to train you. Especially with the truth of who I was still hidden. It was selfish and—”
“And I matched you.” I finished for him, my voice cold as I attempted to mask the hurt and failed.
His jaw worked.
“That’s why you looked shocked that night.” My cheeks burned as I thought of the implications of matching him. Gargoyles matched when we went through the proper steps, one of which was sex in our Gargoyle form. Yet, I matched him before that.
Images triggered through my mind of that night and how it had felt to kiss him, feel his touch, feel him inside me. Heat rushed further down my body as I tried to shake off the memory, only to trigger more images.
His gaze hardened as his jaw worked. “Yes. It’s been known to happen outside of the usual rituals.” He exhaled. “Don’t worry about it.”
It was as if I’d been thrown into an icy lake. Thrown in with no hope of getting out. All of the heat evaporated from my body, replaced with a cold wave of embarrassment.
“Sure,” I forced out and abruptly stood. “So that night meant nothing.” My voice shook with anger. “And saving me was never about me at all, but about Aiden and the Fae. Keeping power from them. That about sum it up?”
His attention snapped to me, eyes brightening.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s fine. You were the first male to show me kindness, and I misread it for something else.” I turned my back to him, snatching the cream blanket from the couch and stalking for the room. “You don’t owe me anything. I—”
I jumped as he was suddenly in front of me, pinning me to the spot beneath his gaze.
“Evanee, I abandoned our people to look for you. Not because of Aiden or magic powers—because I fucking lost it when I found out you were missing.”
Every nerve in my body prickled from his words. As if electricity danced beneath my skin.
“Then why downplay my color matching yours?”
“Because it should’ve never happened. I shouldn’t have allowed anything to grow between us.”
I ground my teeth, my eyes stinging. “But they did.”
I pushed past him into the room, slamming the door shut and shoved a chair up under the doorknob for good measure.
The cool wood of the door eased my feverish brow.
My breath hitched as the shadow of his boots stretched beneath the door.
But I let that breath go shakily, gut sinking lower, as the shadows receded, followed by a door slamming.