Rubbing the back of her hand, Brynleigh frowned. If she concentrated hard enough, she could still feel the ghost of the captain’s hand on hers.
Cast in darkness,Ryker’s childhood home was exactly as Brynleigh remembered it.
The drive had been silent, with Ryker deep in whatever pit of worry his sister’s call had thrown him into and Brynleigh dealing with all the emotions that had been plaguing her ever since she found out Ryker was alive.
Wrought-iron gates guarded the winding driveway leading up to the mansion. Electric lanterns stood on both sides, illuminating the path. Two stone statues of dragons stood in front of the massive double doors at the front of the house. Curtains covered every window—there were over fifty that she could see. The lawn was immaculately manicured, the bushes trimmed to perfection, and the gardens didn’t have a single flower out of place.
The Representative’s mansion screamed of ostentatious wealth and privilege.
“We’re here,” Ryker announced, pulling the car to a stop in front of the home. “Someone will park for us. Come on.”
The engine cut off and Ryker got out of the car. He was halfway up the steps by the time Brynleigh unbuckled and got out.
She wasn’t insulted by the fact that he didn’t open her door. After all, assets didn’t require chivalry.
Brynleigh was reluctant to enter Waterborn House. Her last experience here had been less than delightful, and she was fairly certain Ryker’s family hated her now. Whatever potential friendship had been blooming between her and River was long gone.
Fuck, even Ryker didn’t want Brynleigh here. His rejection and the return of his anger were more painful than the torture she’d endured.
Death would’ve been easier than this.
Wordlessly, Brynleigh followed Ryker up the stairs and through the doors. She barely noticed the splendor of the foyer. This place was cold and lifeless, more of a museum than a home.
What had it been like growing up here?
They hurried up a grand staircase and down a long hall with closed doors lining both sides. Brynleigh remained two steps behind Ryker, hugging her arms around herself.
The Rosewood had been mere hours ago, but it felt like a week had passed.
Who knew broken hearts made telling time so difficult?
The steady beeping of machines and the scent of cleaning supplies grew stronger with every step. If the lower level of Ryker’s family home reminded Brynleigh of a museum, this one reminded her of a hospital.
Death hid in the shadows. She could feel it watching. Waiting.
Life had not flourished in this place for some time.
She shivered and rubbed her arms.
“Thank the Blessed Black Sands, you’re here.” River jogged out of a room at the end of the hall.
The younger water fae looked like she’d been up for several days. Between her form-fitting black leggings, oversized gray sweater, and messy bun, she appeared far more frazzled than the rebellious fae Brynleigh had first met. Mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, and shegnawed on her lip ring.
Ryker choked out his sister’s name, and River broke into a run, jumping into his arms. He caught her, squeezing tightly.
Neither sibling looked back at Brynleigh as they embraced, and that was…
Fine.
Well. Not fine.
Not fine at all, actually.
A fresh wave of grief so powerful she could barely breathe slammed into Brynleigh. She stumbled back as though someone had shoved her. Her heart ached, and tears rushed to her eyes.
Brynleigh had underestimated how devastating it would be to see River again. She was just so similar to Sarai.
But River was here, and Brynleigh’s sister was dead.