His voice trailed off, and his gaze locked onto the chessboard in the corner.
He eventually said, “The Reunion.”
Brynleigh frowned. “Excuse me?”
He helped her stand and drew her close, wrapping his arms around her.
She burrowed her face into his chest, inhaling his thunderstorm and bergamot scent.
“The rebels,” Ryker spoke into her hair, his fingers gripping her tightly as if he were afraid she would disappear on him. “If they were going to attack again, they might choose the Reunion.”
“Okay…” She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this.
“If you planted seeds with Jelisette tonight, encouraging the rebels to attack during the live stream, we could entrap the Black Night.” He kissed her forehead. “For once, we could be on the offensive.”
Her eyes widened, understanding flooding through her. “I see.”
It sounded incredibly dangerous, but she couldn’t deny that the thought of getting ahead of the rebels was appealing.
Ryker’s tone shifted into the analytical one he used when they played chess. “It’ll be busy, and we could slip extra guards into the party without being noticed.”
Nodding, Brynleigh wrapped her mind around his plan. “That… could work.”
It was unsafe and potentially deadly, but it made sense.
As if he knew where her mind had gone, Ryker tightened his grip around her.
“I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. Nothing will happen to you under my watch. But if we can draw out the rebels…”
“This might be the leg up you need to defeat them.” It was a good, solid strategy. If it worked, it would save lives.
He dipped his chin, clearly deep in thought. “I’ll talk to some people about adding extra security. Maybe I’ll see if?—”
A resounding knock came from the front door, cutting him off.
Marlowe burst out of the kitchen where he’d been eating, his bark as loud as a drum.
“Ryker Elias Waterborn, open the door this instant!”
Brynleigh paled at the sound of her mother-in-law’s voice.
“Fuck.” Ryker glanced at the door. “Of all the times she could return from her trip, why now?”
Brynleigh wished she was surprised by the unfortunate timing, but she was a magnet for bad luck. Gods damn it all.
She had only had the displeasure of being in Tertia Waterborn’s company twice—once at Waterborn House and once at the wedding—and quite frankly, that was enough for her.
She would rather step on a thousand tacks than deal with the water fae Representative tonight. Or ever again, if she was being completely honest.
Another knock. This one sounded like Tertia put her full force behind it.
“Let me in, son. The doorman confirmed you were here, and I won’t leave until we speak.”
Ryker rubbed his forehead and raised his voice. “Just a minute, Mother!”
Her response came less than a second later, her words as cold as ice as they swept through the apartment. “Don’t you try to hide from me, Ryker. We will be speaking. Tonight.”
Brynleigh had heard death threats that sounded warmer than her mother-in-law’s voice.