Something had shattered within her during the seemingly never-ending torture sessions. There was a hole deep within her soul. She would never be the same person again.
But Ryker was taking her into his custody to kill her, so it didn’t matter.
“I’ll deal with the Chancellor myself,” the captain said, his tone brokering no room for arguments.
Emilia snorted. “Good luck with the bloodsucking bitch. She’s fucking useless.”
A snarl rumbled through Ryker’s chest, and his grip tightened around her.
Brynleigh didn’t say anything.
More footsteps. So many footsteps. They must’ve been keeping her deep underground.
Time slipped on.
Coldness enveloped Brynleigh despite Ryker’s arms around her, and her sluggish brain finally caught up to the fact that her frigidness was caused by a lack of blood. She needed to drink, but she was so tired. How long would the witch’s magic last, keeping the worst of her Fledgling status at bay?
Hopefully, it would be long enough for Brynleigh to be done with all this. The last thing she wanted was to fall into bloodlust before she died.
At some point, a vehicle door opened. Ryker placed her on a seat. His voice was cool and detached as he explained that the car was lined in prohiberis, so she couldn’t shadow out of it.
Brynleigh didn’t respond. She was far too tired and hurt to explain that his concern was a moot point. She couldn’t shadow right now. Other than her fangs, she was basically a mortal, broken from all the torture and lack of blood.
At least she wouldn’t die in the prison. It was a small mercy that she hadn’t expected. Not after what she’d planned.
How had this become her life?
Betrayal, torture, and death.
She’d have never pictured this end for herself six years ago, yet here she was.
A single tear slid down her cheek, and she curled into a ball on the seat. The smooth leather was cool against her bare feet, but she didn’t worry about shoes or bother buckling up.
What was vehicular safety when she was on the way to her death?
A throbbing pain started in the back of her skull, slowly migrating to the front. She assumed it was nighttime since she wasn’t burning alive, but she didn’t open her eyes to check.
The car was silent save for Ryker’s steady breaths and the crunching of wheels on gravel.
Minutes passed. Hours? She wasn’t certain.
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.