“Morning, Nik,” he rasped, his voice rough from sleep.
The air fae’s gaze crawled over Ryker’s rumpled T-shirt and jeans, and he frowned. “Fuck, man, you look like shit.”
Trust Nikhail to always point out the obvious. The man was many things, and subtle was not one of them.
“Thanks for pointing it out.” Ryker scrubbed a hand over the scruff on his face and added shaving to the long list of things he should do today. He picked up the items off the porch and invited Nikhail into the small house.
The air fae’s gaze flitted around the bungalow. To anyone else, his attention would’ve come across as simple curiosity, but Ryker knew Nikhail was cataloging every detail and storing them in case he needed them later.
“She’s in the bedroom?” Nikhail asked, following Ryker on silent fae feet.
Sometimes, it seemed like Nik’s feet didn’t even touch the ground, as if he walked on the air itself.
That’s what made him so good at his job.
Placing the cooler on the kitchen island, Ryker tucked the box in his back pocket. “Yeah. She’s still asleep.”
Knowing amber eyes roved over him for a long moment before Nikhail dipped his head.
“I’m sorry, Ryker.” Truth. No fae could lie, whether they were water, earth, fire, or air fae. “That this is… that it happened this way.”
Nikhail was the only person in Ryker’s life who knew the complete, unedited truth of what had occurred on Ryker’s wedding night. The rest of the world, including Ryker’s family and the other Choosing participants, had been fed a carefully constructed web of half-truths. Not lies but crafted, palpable versions of the events that had taken place.
Some thought Brynleigh had fallen ill after their wedding. True. Others thought the newlyweds were on a trip. Also true, but instead of honeymooning in the Northern Region as they’d planned, Brynleigh had taken a trip to The Pit.
That familiar, angry fire burned through Ryker’s veins. Punching the wall probably wouldn’t solve any of his problems, but he had the urge to introduce his fist to the drywall,just to see if it helped.
Instead, he clutched the counter.
“Me too.”
The words were short and clipped, but what else could he say? That he was sorry he’d been duped? Sorry he was living in his own personal hell, which seemed to be worsening by the day? Sorry his wife had wanted to kill him, and now he was stuck working with her because he’d made a deal to get her out of prison?
The problem was, he wasn’t even sorry he’d Chosen her.
Angry, yes. Sorry? No.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
The world did not contain enough words to properly convey how incredibly awful this situation had become.
Thank the gods, Ryker was saved from further exploring his broken, angry, pain-filled heart because the floor creaked in the bedroom. He met Nikhail’s eyes, and the pair turned their attention down the hall. The bungalow was compact; besides the solitary bedroom, everything was out in the open.
The sound could only mean one thing. Brynleigh was awake.
Seeming to arrive at the same conclusion, Nikhail raised a brow. “Want me to stay?”
On one hand, Ryker would appreciate that. His friend was an intelligent man, and Ryker could use his help with… everything if he were being honest. But on the other hand, things were already complicated enough.
Besides, Ryker was a trained soldier. He’d been to war across the Rose Ocean. He could carry on a conversation with one weakened vampire on his own.
“No, I’ve got this.”
Nikhail studied him for another long moment, his gaze disturbingly perceptive, before he nodded.
“Alright. I’ll leave your suitcases on the porch. I packed everything you asked for.”
Late last night, Ryker had texted his friend, asking for help.