Her eyes widened, and she pulled her hand from his. She needed a moment without his hypnotizing fingers on hers. When he touched her, it became the only thing she could think about, and she needed a clear head.
They weren’t cleanly broken, like a twig snapped in half. A piece of tape wouldn’t fix them. They were more like a picture that had been torn into several pieces. They had jagged edges stemming from the hurts caused by both of them.
But even with all that, part of Brynleigh wanted to try.
Most of her, if she was being honest.
When she looked at Ryker, she saw the fae she married. Wisps of brown hair tinged with red framed his face. Sharp, pointed ears adorned the sides of his head. The stark, strong bones of his face made him beautiful. Storms filled his eyes, and there was power in the way he moved.
Ryker was handsome and powerful, andhers…
And he was also the fae who’d played a part in her torture.
He was her husband but also her jailer.
Her lover, but his sister murdered her family.
Her Chosen partner and the one her heart desired, but he was intimately connected to the reason she was no longer truly alive.
They were a walking contradiction.
Forget opposites attract—they should never have been together in the first place.
How ironic was it that the Head of the Army’s Fae Division fell for a vigilante vampire who killed evil people?
And yet.
And. Fucking. Yet.
Even though they were ripped apart with jagged edges and their relationship was paradoxical, Brynleigh’s heart swelled with hope at his words.
“Who’s asking? My… husband?” The word tasted strange after weeks of disuse. “Or the fae captain looking after his asset?”
Brynleigh held her breath, her fists clenched as she waited for him to reply. She didn’t dare move lest the moment disappear. It was important. She could feel it in her bones. This could alter the course of their future.
If Ryker was asking as the fae captain, the answer would be ‘fuck no.’ Having already been used by Jelisette and Zanri, Brynleigh had no use for yet another person who saw her as a tool.
But if he was asking as her husband, as the man who’d invaded her dreams and broken rules for her and kissed her like she was his entire universe…
Then, by all the gods, her answer would be different.
“I’m asking as your husband,” was his gravelly response. “My job has no influence over this conversation.”
Brynleigh wasn’t a fool, and she read between the lines. His job would influence other conversations, other parts of their life, but this…
She inhaled and ran her tongue over the tip of a fang. A single drop of blood remained in the mug, and she stared at it, tracking its crimson trail as it spread out across the bottom of the cup. Her meeting withJelisette was at the back of her mind, but not even an earthquake could move her from this seat.
“Do you really think it’s possible?” she asked.
There was a whisper of movement, and Ryker’s scent deepened. Without even looking, she knew he’d moved. She could feel his presence beside her.
Her chest tightened as memories of the time they’d had together before everything went to hell haunted her. The wedding and the days preceding it had been some of the happiest of her entire life. She wanted that back and was beginning to realize she’d do almost anything to make that happen.
“Honestly? I don’t fucking know. But I want… I want to try. If you do.” Ryker’s voice, usually strong and confident, was so quiet she had to strain to hear him.
Standing on her right, he placed his hand on the island between them. His palm faced upwards, and his fingers twitched.
The invitation was clear.