He should leave. He should kill her for what she did. He should yell. He should scream. He should punch the walls. He should turn around and never, ever come back.
Everything he had left—his family and his job—pulled at him to go out those doors without a second glance. A smarter fae would’ve done just that.
But he couldn’t get his mind off those words. He couldn’t ignorethem and let his anger win.
If there was even the slightest chance that Ryker hadn’t been wrong, that he hadn’t married a cold-blooded, merciless killer, that the woman he loved somehow had existed, then he couldn’t leave.
Seeing her here, broken and bleeding, hurt more than her betrayal. More than her deceit. More than watching her bleed out on the carpet in their hotel room. More than the anger burning a hole in his chest.
He couldn’t turn and walk away, abandoning her to die.
A risky, stupid plan formed in Ryker’s mind. It was foolish, could potentially cost him the job he loved, and was likely something he’d regret in the future, but it was the path he needed to take.
His stupid heart, with its stupid need to protect those he loved, wouldn’t let him do anything else.
Consequences be damned. He’d deal with those later.
Making up his mind, Ryker took one last look at his broken wife, hardened his heart, and walked to the door.
Brynleigh’s rattling breaths spurred him onwards. They must’ve done something to her to keep her in this state without succumbing to the bloodlust Fledglings often fell into. Victor liked to work with a witch. Ryker wouldn’t be surprised if she’d used her magic to keep Brynleigh mentally sane so she could endure more torture.
The thought, like many others from the past few weeks, made him see red.
Palming his phone, Ryker unlocked it and navigated to his messages. His fingers slid over the screen as he texted a number he’d memorized years ago.
Representative Challard wasn’t someone he interacted with often, but in this case, she might be the only person capable of helping him.
Once the message was ready, Ryker read it, adjusted a few words, and pressed send.
A moment later, his phone vibrated.
Myrrah
Are you sure?
Ryker
Yes.
He was certain of very few things these days, but this was one of them. Brynleigh would not spend another night in this prison.
Okay. I’ll arrange it.
That was all he needed to hear. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.
Victor Orpheus leaned against the double-sided mirror, a sneer twisting his lips as he glared at Brynleigh through the glass.
Gods, Ryker hated the man. Orpheus was one of the worst soldiers in the entire army. He had climbed through the ranks thanks to his cunning duplicity, and his taste for blood and torture was well-known.
More than one prisoner had mysteriously died after spending time in Orpheus’ interrogation chambers.
But Ryker couldn’t touch Victor. Not right now. He had to focus on getting Brynleigh out of there.
Standing in the doorway, Ryker let authority ripple around him. Orpheus might be a powerful fae, but Ryker was the son of a Representative, and he was born to power. Right now, he let the other fae see exactly how displeased he was by the prisoner’s mistreatment.
“I’m taking her.” Ryker held up his phone, flashing the message from Representative Challard.
He wasn’t asking for permission, nor did he require it.