Her soul, her body, and her heart were alldone.
Nearby, autumnal leaves crinkled. An owl hooted. Life was in this place.
Brynleigh sucked in as deep of a breath as she could manage, but her lungs didn’t want to fill.
Boots filled her vision as Ryker kneeled over her.
“I fuckinglovedyou, Brynleigh,” he snarled. Each word was clipped. “I Chose you. And youbrokeus. You destroyed us. I hope you’re happy.”
An undercurrent of pain and anger coursed through his words. He was just as hurt, just as broken as her.
“I’m not,” she whispered.
This was about as far from happy as she’d ever been.
“Good. Neither am I,” he growled, balling his fists at his sides. “Get up and come inside. Don’t try to shadow. The house is warded.”
Apparently, that was all he was willing to say.
Ryker straightened, wiped his hands on his jeans, and strode up the porch. He punched in a code to unlock the door and let himself into the house.
The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the now-silent forest.
Brynleigh stared at the place where Ryker had stood moments before.
Loved.
The word reverberated through her entire being. Her body. Her heart. Her soul.
It became all she knew. All she could feel. All she heard, again and again and again.
Helovedher.
But not anymore.
Eventually, Brynleigh mustered up enough strength to rise to her feet. She stumbled after him, half-surprised that the door opened when she turned the handle.
The house was small but quaint. Ryker’s back was to her when sheentered. He was tense, gripping the back of a kitchen chair, and he didn’t turn around.
“The bedroom is down the hallway on the left,” he said gruffly. “You can use the bathroom, but don’t go anywhere else. There should be clothes in the dresser. Take your pick.”
As if she would leave. She was bruised, battered, and starving.
Brynleigh was too tired to fight. Too tired to do anything, really. If he wasn’t going to kill her right now, then she would shower. Anything to get this grime and blood off her.
She didn’t look around as she walked to the bedroom. If she was still alive in the morning, she’d think about exploring then.
She closed the curtains, stripped off her clothes, and stepped beneath the shower head. Turning the water on as hot as it could go, she let the steam burn away the remnants of the dungeon.
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
Brynleigh wept for herself, for Ryker, and for the utter fucking disaster that was their relationship.
She wept until she had nothing left. Only then did she stumble into the bedroom and collapse on the bed, pulling a blanket over herself. Her hair soaked the pillow, but she didn’t care.
He hadlovedher.
And she had destroyed them.