Page 18

Ryker

I’d barely stepped foot outside my chambers when Riordan approached me.

“Father is expecting you in his study.”

“For what reason?” I snapped.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said with a shrug.

Remembering that Riordan was only the messenger, I inhaled a deep breath to soothe my agitation.

“Has he learned of Cadence’s presence here?”

My father would most certainly try to use her to control me.

“I doubt it, but like you, I avoid his company, so I can’t be sure.”

I grunted in answer.

For the first time in years, my heart ached for the loss of my mother. My father had been a different man while she was still alive.

He’d been kind once. Loving. Doting even.

Now, he was harsh and paranoid, seeing an enemy in every face that surrounded him, including his sons.

That was what happened to someone who lost their fated mate. Not only did your power weaken, but your mind also followed. The decline was slow, like an insidious disease. It was the cruelest of fates, and he had been suffering from it for decades.

In the beginning, I’d felt only compassion for his plight. Then, all traces of my father slowly faded, leaving a tyrant in his place.

“Ryker,” Riordan called, and I got the impression it was not the first time he had tried to gain my attention. “I asked what you intend to do if he has learned of her.”

“Like we discussed, I will pretend she is your… courtesan.”

The word tasted sour on my tongue.

“You might want to work on your expression if you have any hope of selling it,” Riordan chuckled.

I grunted again.

It seemed that was my preferred method of communication today.

We walked in companionable silence as we headed toward our father’s study. When we arrived, I didn’t bother to wait for the guards to open the doors as I pushed past them.

The air in the dimly lit room was thick with tension, and the flickering candlelight illuminated the stern features of my father’s face.

He was sitting in one of the armchairs on either side of the fireplace, and opposite him was Lord Barrington.

Hatred burned through my veins, and Riordan placed a hand on my forearm.

“Easy,” he warned.

It was then that I realized I had curled my hands into fists at my sides as I ground my teeth together.

Few people had earned my disdain more than Lord Barrington.

He was a snake. Always slithering around, waiting for an opportunity to strike. He was the type of man to rejoice in the suffering of others, and unfortunately, he was my father’s closest ally.

He was also the mastermind behind my father’s recent notions regarding how I would best fulfill my duties to the crown.

Of course, Lord Barrington benefited greatly from his stroke of genius.

“Ah, my sons have arrived.”

My father’s voice was icy as he studied me.

I noted the absence of any seating for Riordan and me, which was likely the point. He wanted us to be uncomfortable for this discussion.

“Lord Barrington and I have been discussing our strengthening allegiance,” my father drawled.

“Have you now?” I retorted.

My father narrowed his eyes at me, his irritation at my interruption written all over his face.

“You have a duty to the Unseelie, Ryker. To this family, and to the crown.”

Lord Barrington smirked at me, and I stared back at him until he shifted uncomfortably before glancing away.

A sick satisfaction rushed through me at his obvious fear.

“Is it duty that motivates you, Father?”

My gaze flicked back to Lord Barrington before I added, “Or is it just another move in your endless game of power?”

My father’s gaze sharpened, and he straightened in his seat. “You will watch your tone when you speak to me, Son. I may be your father, but I am also your King, and I won’t tolerate disrespect from any of my subjects.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. My father was well aware that my strength was greater than his, and if I wanted to, I could dethrone him with little effort.

But I had no desire to sit on his throne and spend my days indulging the council's every whim.

This performance was solely for Lord Barrington, who would be wise to remember the danger he was courting.

“Lord Barrington has been aiding the kingdom with our efforts to dispel the rebels.”

“The Crimson Enclave? You can say their name, Father,” I taunted.

He tsked, still unwilling to concede the reemergence of the Wraith Borne. Despite the passage of time, their attack on the palace had unsettled him in ways I couldn’t fully understand.

“Lord Barrington would like to see a return on his investment,” my father said pointedly. “In two weeks, we will host a ball to celebrate our alliance.”

My gaze flicked to Lord Barrington, and the smugness I saw in his features made me want to strangle him. My shadows pulsed inside my veins as though they agreed.

I didn’t bother to object. Instead, I kept my expression clear of the simmering rage that threatened to burn me.

I hadn’t much cared when their intentions were first revealed to me, save for the fact that I loathed anything that might benefit Lord Barrington. However, with Cadence now in play, I was no longer content to remain… disinterested.

I contemplated murdering both men and ridding myself of the burden they had become, but I quickly dismissed the thought. I had neither the time nor patience for a civil war.

“Is that all?”

My father’s disapproval was evident in the way his nostrils flared and how he pressed his lips into a thin line.

For a moment, the silence was suffocating.

“For now.”

My father’s voice was low and quiet, but I didn’t miss the threat that rang out loud and clear.

I didn’t wait to be dismissed before turning on my heels and striding toward the door. As my palm rested on the doorknob, my father called out behind me.

“And Ryker.”

Warning bells sounded inside my head as my father’s bitter voice settled over me.

“Don’t think I’m unaware of the secrets you keep, Son.”

An icy chill ran down my spine, but I ignored it as I pushed the doors wide and strode from my father’s study.

Riordan had to jog to catch up with my long strides. “I hate to tell you I told you so, Brother, but I did, in fact, tell you so.”

“Not now, Riordan,” I snarled.

“All I’m saying is —”

Riordan slammed his mouth shut as I rounded on him, and he raised his hands in surrender.

I didn’t know what I looked like, but judging by Riordan’s reaction, I was sure that my expression reflected my deadly mood.

“I’ll. Take. Care. Of. It.”

“All right, Ryker,” Riordan placated. “I only mentioned it because I want to help you. I’m not trying to be a dick.”

My brow rose in challenge.

“Fine. I was being a bit of a dick, but can you blame me? Riling you up has always been one of my favorite pastimes.”

Despite myself, I laughed.

“I love you too, Little Brother.”

Riordan screwed up his face.

“What?”

“Whenever you express emotion, your face does this thing, which kind of makes you look like you’re struggling to make a bowel movement,” he said with complete seriousness.

“Fuck off,” I chuckled as I shoved him.

Riordan’s own laughter followed me down the hall.

“Oh, look,” he called and pointed to the courtyard.

My gaze followed the direction of his outstretched arm.

In the middle of the square, Malesh had a practice sword raised, his footsteps confident and seamless, as another soldier prepared to defend against the strike.

Only it wasn’t a soldier.

Cadence stood with her back to me. She wore her long brown hair in a braid that I desperately wanted to wrap around my fist as I did wicked things to her body.

She thrust her practice blade high, deflecting Malesh’s strike before dancing out of range.

Riordan let out a low whistle from beside me. “Looks like you’ve got more to worry about than you thought,” he mused. “She already nearly stabbed you with your own dagger. What will she be capable of once Malesh has finished with her?”

“I should have left him to die,” I grumbled.

Riordan chuckled as he slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Good luck,” he said in a saccharine tone.

As I continued to watch Cadence trade blows with Malesh, I realized that I just might need it.