Keeping track of the passage of time was something people did when their lives weren’t in utter shambles.
Brynleigh had no use for time anymore. She had no use for anything at all. She and Ryker could’ve had something good, but she’d destroyed it all.
If only Zanri hadn’t come to the hotel room. If only Brynleigh had told Ryker what was happening before their wedding. If only she’d confessed as soon as she’d realized the truth about the storm.
If only, if only, if only.
It was too late for thoughts like that, though. Too late for maybes and possiblies. There were no more options, no alternate paths.
Brynleigh’s husband, the fae she’d Chosen and the man she loved, was going to kill her, and she would let him. She wouldn’t fight back. She’d already done enough damage.
Brynleigh knew death intimately, and now, it was her turn to enter its cold, dark embrace.
She was ready.
Eventually,the vehicle slowed.
Brynleigh remained curled up on the seat as Ryker cut the engine. The silence was sudden, and her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Soon, she wouldn’t have a heartbeat.
Maybe then, she would be at peace. Maybe then, she would be done.
A door opened, and a cold breeze rushed at her. Her arms broke out in goosebumps. Would death be cold?
“We’re here,” Ryker said briskly from outside the vehicle.
Brynleigh shouldn’t have expected his voice to carry any traceof kindness, but the lack of warmth still sent tears to her eyes. She refused to let them fall, though.
She would be strong, even in this.
Unfurling from her ball, she pried open her eyes. Her brows creased.
This was… not where she’d expected to die.
Ryker had brought her into the woods.
Pine trees towered above them. Water lapped at a distant shore. Leaves rustled. Branches cracked. And the air was clean. There were no exhaust fumes, no factory emissions, and no scent of blood.
In fact, there was no sign of Golden City at all.
It was just the two of them.
And then she looked behind him.
Confusion was tart on Brynleigh’s tongue. Had she hit her head during the car ride? This didn’t seem like a good killing location. If anything, it seemed… almost serene.
She frowned. Wondering if she was hallucinating, she shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath before opening them again.
The scene remained the same.
A small blue bungalow was nestled in the moonlit pines, partly covered by the trees. A wooden porch wrapped around the home, a flourishing garden sat out front, and a birdhouse hung on a nearby tree.
It looked… nice.
Of all the places Brynleigh thought she would meet her final death, this wasn’t one of them.
All her earlier bravado burned away like an early morning fog kissed by the afternoon sun. She was mistaken.