Unlike Victor Orpheus.
Relief flickered through Brynleigh’s eyes, and she darted forward.
“Thank you.”
Grabbing the bag closest to her, she ripped the top off with her teeth. Like she had in the cell, she downed the crimson liquid within seconds.
She dropped the empty bag on the counter and moved on to the next. She drank that one, too, guzzling it like she’d been moments away from death, and it was a life-giving elixir.
He supposed it was.
Relief shone in her eyes, and soft sighs slipped from her mouth as she drank.
It was too much for Ryker. He couldn’t bear to stand there in silence and watch her any longer.
The island between them might as well have been an entire world.
Turning away, he busied himself with the coffee maker. He grabbed a pod and shoved it in the contraption, fiddling with buttons until, finally, caffeine trickled into the mug heplaced underneath.
Even after the coffee had finished brewing, Ryker didn’t move. He stared at the steam rising above the black liquid and attempted to formulate words. His mind was a jumble, and every time he opened his mouth, no sounds came out.
Once, communication between them had been as easy as breathing. They’d been able to speak for hours about everything and nothing.
Not anymore.
Anger tied his tongue, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. He wrapped his hands around the mug. The coffee was hot and just on this side of being too much, but he let the slight pain ground him.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at his drink.
Eventually, she whispered, “I wasn’t going to do it, you know.”
Those words again.
That storm in his veins became a barely contained tempest.
Ryker’s spine stiffened, and he drew a sharp breath through his nostrils. Clinging to the mug as though it were a life raft in the midst of a storm, he slowly turned around.
She dragged her eyes up to his. They shone a little brighter than before, and her cuts were already healing. The bruises were more muted, and that fucking stupid side of him was relieved to see that she was looking better than when she’d walked in.
“I couldn’t do it.” She worried her bottom lip. “I wasn’t going to kill you. Not in the end. I decided not to. River told me what happened, and I… I knew I couldn’t.”
Slowly, Ryker placed the mug on the counter and flattened his palms on the cold surface.
She stared at him expectantly as if he knew what to say to move them forward from this. As if her words didn’t spark fury within him. As if he wasn’t reeling inside from her admission yesterday.
The problem was he had no fucking idea what to do with any of this.
People usually went to him for help solving their problems, but most people’s problems didn’t involve a murderous wife.
Ryker’s heart thundered, and he barely stifled a groan. There were no rules for this, no training that could have ever prepared him for this situation.
Gods-damn it all.
“But you planned to do it.” His fingers curled against the marble, and anger leaked into his tone. “You entered the Choosing so you could kill me.”
That, at least, he could understand from a soldier’s perspective. She hadn’t known him then, and she’d had her reasons. But even after they’d met and he’d fallen in love with her, she still intended to kill him.
Her intent was as sharp as any dagger she could’ve plunged into his heart.