And after that, no more words were exchanged between them.
CHAPTER 9
It wasn’t a Lie
Six days had passed since Brynleigh’s meeting with Jelisette.
Six very quiet, very tense days followed by silent, long nights. Brynleigh’s nightmares were back, filled with lightning and storms and death.
So much death.
When Brynleigh and Ryker came back to the bungalow after the disastrous encounter with her Maker, she had retrieved blood from the fridge and fed under the weight of the fae captain’s silent stare.
He had been upset about the way Jelisette treated her, but what the fuck had he expected?
Brynleigh had warned him that her Maker was likely to kill her, and she’d been right.
Isvana help her, but being right had never been so agonizing. It wasn’t just Brynleigh’s body that hurt. She was used to that. Physical pain came and went all the time.
It was her heart that burned with a never-ending ache, like an ember had lodged itself within her life-giving organ and was incinerating her from the inside out.
Between that and the mental exhaustion plaguing her, she’d been too sore to talk about what had happened that night. As soonas the blood had kicked in, healing her wounds, she had silently retreated to the bedroom. There, she’d slid the phone and credit card Jelisette gave her on the nightstand, stripped, and climbed into the shower.
Usually, hot water calmed Brynleigh, bringing her peace.
Not this time.
Between Jelisette’s anger and Ryker’s… well, everything, she’d still been tense when she’d turned off the water. In an exhausted haze, Brynleigh had toweled off, put on her coziest clothes, and climbed into bed.
Ryker hadn’t come to talk to her, and she hadn’t sought him out before falling into a fitful sleep.
The next day had gone similarly. Same with the one after that. And the next.
The house was too small for them to hide from each other completely, but they’d been engaged in a strange, silent dance. Brynleigh spent most of her time in the bedroom, and Ryker occupied the living space. Whenever he used the shared bathroom, she made sure the door to the bedroom was closed.
Neither of them talked about the divide between them. They didn’t talk about anything, and that fucking sucked.
Even though they weren’t speaking, she was constantly aware of his presence. It was like her body was attuned to his. Her ears picked up the sounds of his movements no matter what he was doing.
A quick investigation of the nightstand had unearthed a book,The Shadow and the Sparrow.
Even the historical enemies-to-lovers romance between a six-hundred-year-old vampire lord and a bird shifter couldn’t distract Brynleigh from the fae on the other side of her door.
For every page she read, she spent twice as long listening to Ryker.
Who knew one person could make so many sounds?
She cataloged each one: his low, tense voice when he spoke on the phone; his grunts as he exercised in the living room everymorning; the quiet clash of cutlery as he ate; and even his soft snores as he finally slept, tossing and turning on that too-small couch.
Twice, Ryker’s friend Nikhail had stopped by, delivering food and blood.
Both times, Brynleigh stayed in the bedroom.
The men spoke in low tones, too quiet even for her to hear, but their voices were like gentle rivers rumbling through the house.
Much like it had during the Choosing, Ryker’s voice haunted Brynleigh, waking and sleeping.
He haunted her.