Falling to his knees on the bloody carpet, Ryker lifted his head to the heavens androared.
“Oh,”Brynleigh breathed, her voice pulling Ryker back to the present. “Then, you… saw.” She swallowed, and her black eyes dimmed. “You heard?”
A lump formed in his throat, and the pain in her eyes causedhis heart to twist. That was a gods-damned emotion that he had no business feeling.
Not here. Not now. Not withher.
Red tinged his vision, and his nostrils flared. Every beat of his heart sang the same horrible song.
Betrayed, betrayed, betrayed.
His heartbeat was a booming drum. Even his body refused to let him forget that he’d made a monumentally bad Choice.
Part of Ryker knew that Brynleigh belonged in The Pit. Although this place was horrible, she’d been planning on killing him.
Not only that, but ties had been uncovered linking Jelisette de la Point, Brynleigh’s Maker, to the Black Night. The rebel group was responsible for the bombing at the Masked Ball, as well as several other incidents that had taken place over the decades.
Rules and laws existed for a reason. Prisons were designed to keep bad people inside, and all signs from the past three weeks pointed to the fact that Ryker’s wife was not a good person.
But the other part of Ryker—the part that fucking loved Brynleigh—was dying at the sight of her in this place of death. That part was overriding his anger, screaming for him to take action and save her.
He thought he understood pain, but nothing could have prepared him for this.
By the Obsidian Sands, he had heard Brynleigh’s confession. He had listened as she admitted to everything, from being a fucking vigilante to plotting to kill him.
Ryker should despise her. He should want her dead and out of his life for good. He should be happy she was so broken.
But he wasn’t happy.
Not. At. All.
Gods damn it all, but he didn’t even hate her. He was angry with her—so fucking angry that his magic was a barely contained storm in his veins—but hate? He didn’t even know if he could, now that he’d given her his heart.
And didn’t that just make him the biggest fucking fool of them all?
“Yes, I did,” Ryker said calmly, falling back on years of military training.
He would not let her see the turmoil that existed beneath his skin, nor would he let her know the depth of his deep-seated pain or the currents of anger coursing through him.
Brynleigh’s black eyes shuttered, and her shoulders slumped. Her head hung low, and matted hair curtained her face. As if she was sorry. As if she wasn’t the one who had wanted to kill him.
Fuck, that anger was coming back.
He forced himself to breathe. He was so busy not screaming that he barely heard her next words.
“I understand,” she said softly, her voice as broken as his heart. “I couldn’t… After our wedding… I changed my…”
She drew in a shuddering breath but still didn’t meet his eyes.
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.
After a few minutes, she continued, her words even softer. “In the end, I wasn’t going to…”
Her voice trailed off, and she mumbled something too low for him to hear.
“What?” The word slipped out of him, harsh and booming.
Brynleigh jumped, her arms pulled against the restraints, and then a half-sob, half-sigh left her lips.