Chapter 27
Ryoden
By the time the door closes behind the bellhop and we’re finally alone in the suite with Eli off to find his own room, I can feel the pressure behind my eyes like the beginning of a headache.
The scowl that I’ve been carefully obscuring ever since the General looked at Wren with too much interest comes out full force as I glance around.
The suite itself is nice enough—too nice, if I’m honest. It’s strange to me, the opulence of headquarters when, after being in barracks for years, I’m still struggling to adjust to the indulgence of the Colonel’s house I took over.
It’s a jarring juxtaposition seeing what those at the very top are living with, even with the knowledge that HQ converted one of the nicest hotels in the city.
Seeing it with my own eyes is just something else entirely.
Large windows spill city light over our polished marble floors and the small sitting area with stiff-looking chairs on either side of a large sofa.
I watch Wren instantly go to the sliding door and sigh as she looks out over the large lake illuminated by the moon and the surrounding buildings’ lights.
“I really feel like we need to get on the same page, Ryoden,” she begins, continuing the argument that began in the elevators.
Frustration stirs within my chest as I continue my search of the suite, opening the door to the bedroom that leads to one big bed with too many pillows and a closet I know is already full of clothes for her.
There’s one window in the room as well, but no other access point to it and I give a self-satisfied nod knowing she’ll be relatively safe in here.
“I’m not saying we need a ten-page history,” Wren insists as she breezes past me into the bedroom, pacing back and forth between the end of the bed and the window, fingers toying with the hem of the oversized sweater she’s still wearing.
“But we can’t just…wing it. What if someone asks how we met?
What if they ask who proposed? We should at least agree on the basics. ”
An undignified scoff scrapes up my throat and out of my mouth at one of those questions. “Who proposed? Really?”
She just blinks back at me like she doesn’t understand my hang-up.
My chest squeezes as I stare at her backlit by the light, like a physical fucking manifestation of the aura of angelic nature that has surrounded her since the moment I laid eyes on her in that holding cell in the wall.
Sometimes I wonder if my life and career would have been better off if I’d just let her go from the cell that day.
Yet even the mere thought of that brings back the same tidal wave of reckless emotion that I’ve endured at each opportunity I’ve had to release her.
At first I told myself it was just me clinging to my duty, but as I gaze at her now, swallowing the lump in my throat, I know that I’ve gone far past my professional scope.
Her brow creases and I have to curl my hands into fists at my sides as she asks, “Why is that not a valid question?”
Before I can stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth, my heart takes over, urging me on. “Because when I find what’s mine, I wouldn’t leave room for anyone to question if I made the move to claim it.”
I track the way her lips part and those large doe-eyes widen, my heart tightening at the light blush creeping into her cheeks.
When you’re done with this mission, she’s going to leave. She’s going to go back to the supernatural kings. She told you that she found a connection to each of them, and you saw it with your own eyes on the wall.
The reminder causes me to clear my throat as I attempt to focus back on what’s important for now.
I lean against the bare wall just inside the bedroom, arms crossed over my chest, trying to hold myself together while my mind keeps playing the same scene in the lobby on a loop.
The General’s lips grazing her knuckles.
The way she flinched and then stepped back into me, my hand automatically moving to her hip like it belonged there.
How her fingers curled over mine as if I was the safest thing in the room to cling to.
“We don’t need anything past the basics,” I remind her, struggling to keep my tone neutral.
“The fewer details, the fewer lies we have to remember. If they ask, you say we met in Charlotte. I say I proposed because I’d be an idiot not to, and if anyone pushes you for more, tell them I’m a private person and they can take it up with me. ”
That same exasperated look enters her gaze as her lips purse.
“That’s not how this works,” she argues, eyes narrowing exactly as I knew they would.
“If we act like we’re hiding something, they’ll assume we are.
Humans are nosy. You’ve said that yourself.
They’ll ask who said I love you first, or how many times you had to ask before I said yes—”
“I wouldn’t have had to ask more than once,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
She stares at me for a fraction of a second that feels too long, like I’ve stepped back over some invisible line.
Heat crawls up the back of my neck and I look away quickly, focusing on the pile of pillows on the bed instead of the woman in front of me who is supposed to be my fiancée in name only, with no emotions attached.
Suddenly, that fact alone feels like the biggest lie in this room.
I don’t know when it happened, but through the brief glimpses of her smile, our night routine of having dinner together, and when I saw her dripping in my towel before showing her how to use the shower, it became too easy to imagine her staying in my life.
To continue pushing my buttons in the way that only she’s ever been able to, even in such a short amount of time.
“Point is,” I continue, clearing my throat, “we keep it simple and people can fill in the blanks however they like. It’s not like they’d ever be able to guess the truth of who you are and why you’re here.”
How you’re connected to the earth itself and that the four kings are infatuated with you, the same way I’m beginning to find myself.
She begins to pace again for a moment, with her hands on her hips.
“I don’t think these people will fill in the blanks with trivial ideas,” she mutters, stopping to look at me with her head tilted.
“You don’t get to the top of the chain of command without having a critical mind.
They will fill them with suspicion, if the way the General looked at me was any indication.
If you want us to look uninteresting and boring, then we need to be convincingly uninteresting and boring in our story. ”
Just the mention of how he looked at her has my blood pressure skyrocketing.
“We’re not here for their entertainment,” I argue, forcing my jaw to unclench.
Despite my words, I can’t deny she’s right about the cunning minds in our chain of command.
“What we need to focus on is how I’m going to tell my superiors enough to do my duty, without handing them a reason to put either of us in a cell or have our heads taken from our bodies. ”
I have to squeeze my eyes shut at the thought of them harming her. My chest rises and falls with forced, even breaths to remind myself she’s safest with me.
“Yes,” she agrees. My eyes snap open as she steps closer, eyes bright with frustration.
“And part of doing that is not drawing their attention with sloppy cover stories. We’re meant to look real, Ryoden, and while I don’t know everything about this world, I know that real couples know things about each other.
It doesn’t have to be elaborate, it just has to be consistent. ”
The way she says real couples scratches at the frustration I’ve been trying very hard not to keep acknowledging, and for a moment I can’t respond.
For the first time, I realize that I’m pushing back so hard because I’m scared of how much more real this will feel to me if we lean into it any further. But that’s my issue, not hers, and I can’t allow my insecurity to be the ruin of our plan.
I drag a hand over my face and let out a controlled breath. “Fine,” I concede, tossing my hands up. “We can agree on a few details, but we’re not writing a romance novel for them to gossip over.”
One of her brows arches. “What’s a romance novel?”
Of course she doesn’t know. I blink once, then shake my head. “Something that would get you judged as frivolous and stupid by probably all the men you’re about to meet. Forget I said it.”
She opens her mouth, likely probably to press for further details, but a knock at the door cuts through the growing tension. Three quick raps, then silence, and we both glance toward the living room.
I push off the wall and cross through the room, every muscle tightening on instinct.
My hand hovers over the handle for a second before I peer out the glass security hole in the door.
Eli stands on the other side, shoulders squared, expression stripped of his usual easy-going demeanor.
The serious set of his mouth does more to spike my concern than any drawn weapon could.
I open the door and he glances past me as I hear her soft footsteps over the floor behind me.
“Sir,” he says quietly, looking back at me. “Can I come in?”
I open the door wider and step aside. “You should already be in your room for the night.”
“I got my key and dropped my belongings there already,” he replies, slipping in and closing the door carefully behind him. “That’s why I’m here now.”
We move into the living room and I watch curiosity knit Wren’s brows as she leans against the glass of the balcony doors.
“What happened?” I ask, crossing my arms again, more to brace myself than anything else.