by H. D. Gordon
He was not entirely wrong.
“Rook,” he said, and his voice was exactly how I remembered, though a little gruffer, as if he’d spent the last couple of hours yelling.
I said nothing. In fact, I refused to look at him. I sat leaning back against the cold stone wall and tried to determine if he would be able to stop me if I jumped up and went for his throat.
Ryker took a step toward me, but stopped when I looked up and met his stare. A glance at his open neck had me thinking that going for it might be worth taking the chance.
“Rook,” Ryker repeated. “I missed you so much.”
A harsh laugh escaped me. It was so abrupt that Ryker looked shocked to hear it.
I waved a hand at the cell around me. “Yes, the accommodations you’ve provided make that abundantly apparent,” I said.
Ryker’s handsome face twisted with an emotion that might have fooled me if I didn’t know better.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and stepped to the side of the open door. “I have another room prepared for you, if you want it.”
I reached up and touched the black collar around my neck. “And another collar as well,” I said.
Ryker sighed, as if he had any right to be frustrated. “I’m sorry about that, but I was afraid that monster Mixbreed would try to steal you back. With the collar, I’ll always know where you are… I’ll be able to protect you.”
My anger was rising again, and I pushed to my feet so suddenly that Ryker stepped back a few paces. “This is what you call protecting me?” I asked. “You are one sick son of a bitch.”
“Let me explain,” he said, almost pleading. “Please, just give me a chance to explain.”
My hands were clenched into fists so tight that my fingers ached. “No,” I snapped. “You might as well kill me now and get it over with.” I crossed my arms over my chest and met his blue stare, looking into eyes that still captured me despite everything.
Ryker took a step toward me. Then another. He paused just out of reach, because he was not quite as stupid as he was handsome.
“Please,” he said. “Just hear me out, and if you still don’t want anything to do with me, I’ll let you go. I’ll remove that collar and let you go.” He took another step toward me, coming into range of my nails. “I love you, Rook,” he said. “Let me prove it to you.”
My eyes were narrowed down to slits. “And if I still want to leave?” I asked.
Ryker nodded. “Then, I’ll let you go. No strings. No collar. I promise.”
“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” I waved a hand at the open door. “Lead the way, Master.”
Ryker bristled a bit at the title, but didn’t correct me.
Instead, he waved a hand for me to exit the cell, and I did so while keeping my eyes pinned on him. He clearly didn’t trust me to walk behind him, and the feeling was mutual. I would not make the mistake of trusting him twice. After what had happened the first time, I didn’t think my heart could afford to.
We walked in silence through the back passages of the castle, and once again it was rather obvious that my presence in Marisol was being kept a secret. I wondered for whose benefit this was, but a glance at Ryker reminded me that this was a stupid question.
He was the West Coast Pack Master now. Everything that took place in Marisol was for his benefit. That was how it worked—the exploitation of the many for the extreme benefit of the few. After living in Mina, the whole thing seemed tragically barbaric.
Eventually, we reached a staircase that spiraled upward and out of sight. By the cylindrical shape of the stairwell, I knew it must lead up to one of the many towers of the monstrous beach side castle, likely hundreds of feet from the ground and sea.
As we climbed stair after stair, and my ears popped, I got the feeling that much like the dungeons, which were a prison beneath the castle, this stairway lead to a different kind of prison, one that sat among the stars.
As I continued climbing for what felt an eternity, I couldn’t decide which one I thought was worse.
At last, we reached a room at the top of the tower. It was admittedly more welcoming than the dungeons, but that was a low bar by which to measure.
The space was about the same size as my former cell, but there was an actual bed with actual blankets, a chair and a desk. There was even a small stove in one corner of the room, keeping the place toasty despite the harsh sea breeze that my strong ears could hear curving around the stone of the tower.
After the gut-punch Mekhi had given me, and the long climb up here, I was winded, so I plopped down in the chair beside the desk and folded my arms over my chest. Then I sat silently and waited for Ryker’s worthless explanation.
He moved over to the bed and took a seat on the mattress, looking up at me with those big blue eyes. “Will you sit with me?” he asked.
This question brought a flashback of Adriel, sitting on the ledge of that alcove in the Erl Queen’s castle. He’d asked me the same thing, and despite my deep fear of heights, I’d been inclined to accept Adriel’s offer.
There was no such inclination here.
“No,” I said. “I’m fine right here.”
Ryker released a sigh and ran a hand through his golden-brown hair. His handsome face was weary and drawn, but I felt absolutely zero pity for him. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but a knock at the door interrupted him. He barked for the caller to enter.
The door swung open and a female with a collar that matched mine entered the room carrying a platter of food and drinks. She wore the usual rags given to castle slaves, had the same pallid, overworked look to her. I’d been angry since arriving here, but seeing the girl made my rage flare. She could not have been more than ten years old.
She walked over to the desk where I was sitting and placed the tray before me. Then she retreated to the doorway and awaited any further instruction in silence. Ryker waved a hand to dismiss her, and she retreated instantly, shutting the door once more behind her.
Once she was gone, Ryker looked at me. “You must be hungry,” he said. “Eat.”
I looked at the variety of meats, fruits, and cheeses, at the warm rolls slathered with butter and the sweet red wine that was a shade no where near as lovely as Adriel’s eyes.
“No,” I said. “You said you wanted to explain yourself. So do it.”
Ryker sighed again and sat forward on the bed. I hated that even now, he was devastatingly handsome, the kind of handsome that most females had a very hard time staying mad at.
But I was not most females.
“Ramsey,” Ryker began, “he had my sister. If I would’ve tried helping you, he would have killed her.”
I sat looking at him and said nothing.
“I hated that he hurt you,” he continued. “Every moment when he was hurting you, I was hurting, too. Seeing you hurt was torture.”
I snorted. “No,” I said, “that Hound with the metal cart and the sadistic sense of enjoyment, what he did to me, that was torture.”
Ryker squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his forehead. When he opened them again, he seemed like he was searching for more convincing words, and coming up short.
“Will you please eat something?” he said. “Or have some wine. Relax a little so we can have an actual conversation.”
“We are having a conversation,” I snapped. “You’re spouting bullshit and I’m calling you on it. If memory serves, that’s pretty much how our conversations go.”
Ryker’s eyes traveled the length of me. “It was always better when we weren’t talking with our mouths, wasn’t it? When we spoke with our bodies instead.”
I shook my head. “That’s over, Ryker. That died with my dignity in the dungeon cell you just dragged me from.” I stood. “Now, you’ve had your say, so let me go.”
Ryker was on his feet as well. He moved toward the door and stood between it and me, his muscular frame filling the only exit.
“Move,” I said.
“And take this Gods damned collar off me.”
He looked at me as though he were the saddest Wolf in the world. “I can’t do that,” he said. “I can’t let you leave this room until you see things clearly.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said. I felt the power coiling in my legs, my body preparing to launch at him and gouge his eyes out with my bare hands.
Ryker, the handsome bastard, knew me all too well. He wasted no time slipping out the door and locking it behind him.
My body slammed into the door’s hard surface a split second later, and I pounded it hard enough with my fists that bruises would cover my hands in the morning.
“Eat, drink, sleep,” Ryker said from the other side of the door. “After you’ve rested, I think you’ll understand… You might even thank me.”
I sent one last powerful kick at the heavy door, the sound loud enough to echo through the chamber, and growled in rage and fear. I was using the first emotion to hide the second, because if I concentrated too much on the fear, it would surely overwhelm me.
I heard Ryker retreat down the spiral staircase, and thought he could not be more wrong. I would not thank him.
No, if he didn’t let me out of here, and damn soon, I swore to the Gods that I was going to kill him.
29
Hours passed.
I paced the room until that drove me nuts, and then I began doing pushups and sit-ups, squats and lunges to get out the mounting energy within me. Every time I brushed the new collar around my neck, my rage came anew. I continued this routine until I lay sweaty and exhausted atop the bed, staring at the ceiling.
I realized an hour or so later that perhaps expending so much energy had not been the wisest of choices. Now, I was tired, thirsty, and hungry. As if to back up this point, my stomach growled loud enough to make me clutch it and cringe.
Begrudgingly, I found myself sitting at the desk with the stupid food platter. I stared down at the bribery and lasted about three minutes before I dug in. As I shoved the now cold but still delicious bread into my mouth, I consoled myself by thinking that there was no point in starving. Clearly, despite his promise to release me, I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
There was enough food for four on the platter, and I slowly worked my way through it, eating until my belly was too full to take another bite of meat or sip of wine. Though I knew it was probably Ryker’s intention, the sweet liquid did make me relax a bit, making my head fuzzy and light.
I’d just finished off the pitcher when the door to the room opened again. Ryker entered and glanced over at the food tray. His face flooded with relief, as though he’d been afraid I might starve myself. I wondered when he’d drop the damn act already, and asked him as much from my position on the bed.
“It’s not an act,” Ryker insisted. “I love you, Rook, and I’m going to prove it to you.”
I rolled my eyes and continued staring at the ceiling, not bothering to respond.
Ryker moved so swiftly, and I was so buzzed, that I blinked and he was hovering over me where I lay on the bed. The familiar weight of his body crushed me to the mattress, and those blue eyes were so close that I thought I might drown in them.
My fists flew up to punch him, to knock him off me, but Ryker took my wrists and pinned them to the bed. I bucked, growling and threatening to remove his malehood, trying and failing not to inhale the scent of him—seaside and sunshine.
“Just listen to me, Rook,” Ryker pleaded. “I’m trying to protect you, to keep you safe.”
Between clenched teeth, I growled, “The only one I need to be kept safe from is you.”
His tongue ran out over his lips as they hovered near my own. “I would never hurt you,” he said, and bent his head to kiss me.
I snapped at his lips with my teeth, and to my satisfaction, I drew blood.
Ryker’s blue eyes flared with a familiar lust, and the part of his body that was flush against my stomach hardened. His hold on my wrists tightened.
I’d been afraid from the moment I’d jumped through that portal, but the fear that spiraled through my stomach now was different. Worse, somehow.
Ryker’s tongue darted out and licked at the blood on his lip. “You always did like seeing me bleed,” he mumbled, and moved in to kiss me again.
“Get off me!” I screamed. The tone in which I said this was so shrill that Ryker actually paused.
When he drew back from me, relieving some of the weight of his muscular body, I saw that old anger spark behind his sapphire eyes. He shoved off the bed and stood over me. I scrambled to get out of the vulnerable position of being on my back and retreated to the other side of the mattress, watching him with caution. Ryker’s switch had flipped, and that meant he was dangerous.
“What?” he snapped. “You don’t want to fuck me anymore? Is that it? I’m no longer good enough for you? What happened when you were with that bastard Mixbreed? Did you let him fuck you, too? Is that what you are now? Adriel’s little whore?”
“Get the hell away from me,” I said, and the words came out weaker than intended, but I couldn’t help it. I was going to cry again, and I would be damned if I let him witness it.
Ryker scoffed and stalked toward the door. “With pleasure,” he said, and slammed it shut behind him, locking me inside.
More time passed, but because the tower room didn’t have any windows, I had no idea how long I sat there. Ryker’s parting words should not have upset me so much, but Gods help me, they did. Despite my commitment to never trust him again, I couldn’t help the ache that spread through my chest as his voice played on a loop in my head.
What happened when you were with that bastard Mixbreed? Did you let him fuck you, too? Is that what you are now? Adriel’s little whore?
I hated him.
In a lifetime full of hatred, I was sure I hated Ryker more than anyone I’d ever hated before. He would not get what he wanted from me, not unless he stole it.
This thought struck me cold, and chilled me down to the bone. Because he absolutely could steal it. He had all the power here. As long as this collar was around my neck, I was his property, and males used their property however they saw fit.
When the door opened once again, it was this realization that had me backing into the corner, preparing myself to defend my own honor if it came down to it. I might be overpowered, but I would sure as hell go down swinging.
But just from his expression and posture I could tell that Ryker had flipped that switch inside him back to its alternate setting.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he began, “I didn’t mean it.”
To this, I said nothing.
He wandered over to the desk and set down a pitcher he’d carried in. Then, he plucked at some of the leftover food on the platter, but did not eat it. After a long sigh, he tossed the food back on the plate and sat down in the chair facing me.
“I’m going to build a good life for us, Rook,” he said quietly. “I’m the West Coast Pack Master now. I can give you everything. I can keep you safe and happy… If you just let me.”
Again, I only looked at him. If he couldn’t see how messed up this all was, there were no words that would convince him. He had the audacity to sit in that chair and look distraught, nonetheless.
“The other Pack Masters,” Ryker continued, “they want you dead. They’re demanding that you be captured and your head mounted near the gates of the arena, as a reminder that what you did there will not be allowed.” He gave a half smile, and I was reminded of how handsome he was when he smiled, but no heat spiraled in my stomach, nothing fluttered in my chest.
“You scared the shit out of them at The Games,” Ryker said, “riding out of the arena on that Firedrake, Ramsey between its jaws. You should’ve seen the looks on the other Pack Masters’ faces. It was like their worst nightmares come to life.”
Ryker stood now and moved over to me slowly. I pressed myself against the wall, warning him with my eyes that should he try what he
pulled on the bed earlier, I would make him regret it. Seeing this, he held his hands up, the way a tamer might a lion.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Rook,” he said. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. In fact, I’m the only one standing between you and the other four Pack Masters.”
I recognized this for the threat that it was, and narrowed my gaze on him.
“Same old Rook,” Ryker chuckled, and reached up to put a hand on my face. I batted his hand away and slid further away from him.
He sighed, retreating to the desk and filling a goblet with the pitcher he’d brought in. I watched his every move as he returned to me and held out the cup. “Drink some wine,” he said. “It’ll help you relax.”
“I’m not thirsty,” I said.
Ryker’s handsome face twisted with sudden rage. “Drink the Gods damned wine, Rukiya,” he said, and shoved the goblet into my hand.
Cursing, I snatched the cup and tipped it to my mouth, taking a long swig and wiping the back of my hand over my lips before shoving the goblet back at him. “There you go, Master,” I snapped. “I drank your wine. Happy now?”
Ryker stared down at the cup and then back up at me. “I’m not happy at all, Rook. Don’t you get it? I’m not happy at all. Here I am, trying to protect you from the most powerful Wolves in the realms, and all you can do is spit in my face.”
“I don’t want your protection,” I said. “I did want it once, and you didn’t give it. You didn’t even try, and now I don’t want it any more. That’s your fault. Not mine.”
“You really blame me for everything that’s happened?”
I took a moment to consider my answer. “Everything that happened before, no. Everything that’s happening right now? Yes.”
Ryker approached me where I still stood with my back to the wall, my small form lost in the shadow of his large frame. “What can I do to make it right between us?” he asked. “Tell me what to do.”
