Page 30 of Reaper’s Ruin (Reaper’s Ruin Trilogy #1)

I eyed an approaching guard’s sword, about to reach out and take it as my own as they descended on her, but before they reached her, she pushed the hollow reed straw through the makeshift incision, and a hissing sound emerged.

The man’s eyes flew open, and he drew a desperate, rattling breath that gradually smoothed into normal breathing.

The world around us fell silent as the guards froze in their tracks.

“He’s... he’s alive!” a woman cried out. “She saved him!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Soraya sat back on her heels, relief evident on her face. “Holy shit it worked. I’ve never done one of those before. Only seen doctors do them.”

“What did you do?” I asked, bewildered by both her actions and the crowd’s response.

“Needle decompression,” she whispered. “The pressure in his chest was preventing his lung from expanding. This releases the air that was trapped and lets him breathe.”

Before I could respond, the crowd parted.

A tall, imposing figure approached, a dark-haired young man no more than twenty-five, flanked by guards in formal attire.

Even with his mask, I recognized the royal insignia on his jacket—this was the heir to the Storm Court throne, Crown Prince Alaric himself.

“Make way for the prince!” a guard commanded.

He knelt beside the recovering man, genuine concern on his face. “Theron,” he said, gripping the man’s hand. “Brother, can you hear me?”

The injured man nodded weakly, attempting a smile.

Prince Alaric turned to Soraya, his eyes—a striking electric blue—filled with gratitude. “You saved my little brother’s life.”

She lowered her gaze respectfully, and I was grateful she’d remembered those small details of how to behave in front of royalty I’d given her on our cart ride here. “Anyone with my training would have done the same, Your Highness.”

“And what is your name, my lady?” he asked, his attention fully on her now. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you at court before.”

I tensed, prepared for disaster. We had planned our cover stories, but nothing that would hold up under direct royal scrutiny.

“Lady Soraya of the Eastern Reaches,” she replied smoothly, surprising me with her composure. “And this is Lord Rhyker, my escort and protector.”

I bowed stiffly, every instinct screaming that this interaction would lead to our exposure.

Prince Alaric studied us both. “Eastern Reaches... near the borderlands?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Soraya answered without missing a beat.

The prince nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Well, Lady Soraya of the Eastern Reaches, the Storm Court is in your debt.” He looked at the healer who had finally arrived and was now attending to his brother.

“I cannot adequately express my gratitude, but please, allow me to at least offer you our best accommodations during your stay. The guest quarters in the eastern tower are far more comfortable than wherever you might currently be staying. It’s the least I can do. ”

“We don’t—” I began, but Soraya’s elbow discreetly connected with my ribs.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said with a gracious smile. “We would be honored.”

I forced my face into what I hoped resembled gratitude rather than the dismay I actually felt.

The prince rose, signaling to an attendant. “Ensure Lady Soraya and Lord Rhyker are moved to the eastern tower immediately. They are to have everything they require. ”

With a final nod of thanks, he turned his attention back to his brother, who was now being carefully lifted onto a stretcher.

As the crowd began to disperse, I pulled Soraya to a quiet corner of the ballroom.

“This is bad,” I muttered in her ear.

“Excuse me? I did a good thing! I totally crushed that! I was freaking out because no nurse is supposed to do that, but I nailed it! And I saved his life, got us a sweet place to stay so we don’t have to sleep in the cellar like you planned, and we’re inside the inner circle now. We don’t have to sneak around.”

“You’re known now. You’ve made a spectacle.”

“I saved a life.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” I admitted, surprising myself with the honesty. “And now everyone’s looking at you. Listening. And someone’s going to ask you a question you don’t know how to answer.”

“Like what?”

“Like where you trained. Or who you serve. Or who your family is. You’ve never heard of half the places they’ll ask you about, Soraya. All it takes is one slip.”

She bit her lip, the gravity of our situation finally seeming to sink in. “Okay, yeah. That could be a problem.”

I was about to suggest we retreat to our newly acquired quarters to regroup when I noticed her face had gone pale beneath her mask. Her eyes, fixed on something across the room, had widened in shock and fear.

Instinctively, I pulled her against me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“That man,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “The one in the silver mask with black detailing. Near the column.”

I followed her gaze to a tall figure standing apart from the crowd, watching the dancers with apparent disinterest .

“What about him?” I asked, though a cold foreboding was already settling in my gut.

“Those eyes.” Her voice trembled. “I recognize those eyes. I think that’s him, Rhyker.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. The urge to cross the room and tear the man apart with my bare hands was nearly overwhelming. But even as I considered it, the figure turned and disappeared into the crowd, lost among the sea of masks and finery.

“Are you certain?” I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous octave.

She hesitated, staring at the spot where the man had disappeared into the crowd.

“No, I mean... maybe? I would swear I’d recognize those eyes anywhere,” she whispered, her voice thinning to a thread.

“Those were the last eyes I saw before I died. But he was far away and in a mask, so I can’t be a hundred percent certain.

Still... Rhyker, I think that was him. I feel it in my gut.

I think that’s the man who killed me...”

Her voice cracked.

“Killed my mom.”

A tear slipped from beneath her mask, trailing slowly down her cheek. Without thinking, I reached up and brushed it away with my thumb.

That one tear—

It undid her.

With a soft, broken sound, she threw her arms around me, pressing her face to my chest, and she clung to me like I was her only anchor in a storm.

I froze.

No one had touched me like that in eight hundred years.

No one had wanted to.

I wasn’t comfort. I wasn’t warmth .

I was Death.

I was final.

I was feared.

But she pressed deeper into me to me as if I were... safe.

Slowly, like my arms belonged to someone else, I found myself returning her embrace.

My hands spread across her back, feeling the warmth of her through the silk of her gown.

She was soft and real and so heartbreakingly alive.

I squeezed her tighter, enclosing her in my embrace as if I could protect her from every threat, every heartache, every fear she’d ever had.

“I’m scared,” she whispered into the silence between us. “If that’s him... what if he recognizes me? What if he tries to hurt me again? We don’t even know what happens if we die again in these bodies.”

“He won’t recognize you,” I said, the words scraping out of me like gravel. “He doesn’t know you’re alive, and he would never expect you here in this realm.”

I leaned closer, my voice lowering to a promise. “And even if he did... he’d never touch you again. I’d tear him apart before he had the chance.”

And I would.

Gladly.

Piece by piece, if it meant keeping her safe.

She squeezed me tighter. As I held her, something inside me cracked open wide. The detachment I’d built like armor over centuries—the cold, the distance, the void I called survival—it all split like one blow of an axe had shattered it in a single hit.

And what spilled out was... her.

Her laughter. Her stubbornness. Her fire.

I didn’t just care for her as a duty anymore.

I cared for her .

For Soraya .

And in that moment of understanding, of profound acceptance of feelings I never thought I’d have in any life, came a terrible truth just behind it. When she found her door—when she passed through and left this world behind—she would leave me behind as well.

I would return to the Shadowveil.

Alone.

The thought didn’t just ache.

It annihilated.

I’d never minded my existence in the Shadowveil. Had found comfort in the slaying of fae souls, of the monotony of my penance. But now, for the first time in eight hundred years, I found myself afraid of the silence awaiting me after she left.

Afraid of the weight of her absence.

Afraid of continuing to exist in a world that no longer held her light.

Maybe, when this was over—when she was safe and at peace—I’d confess everything to the Veil Lords. Let them erase me with one swipe of their scythes.

Not as punishment, but as mercy.

Because now that I had known her, even for this short time, I wasn’t sure how I could survive a second eternity without her.

She trembled in my arms, vulnerable and afraid, and I held her tighter, my vow to protect her against whatever came strengthening like iron forged over dragon flame.

Even though it would doom me to an eternity of agony or an oblivion I would crave, I would help her find her peace so she could return to her mother and get the afterlife she deserved.

An afterlife of light and love and eternal happiness.

The one that would never come for me.

“We’ll find him,” I promised, my lips close to her ear. “We’ll discover why he targeted you. And then you’ll have your peace. ”

Your way out of my life forever.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with those impossibly blue eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For helping me. For protecting me.”

I wanted to tell her that I would burn down the entire Shadowveil for her. That I would face the Veil Lords themselves if it meant keeping her safe. That in the brief time I’d known her, she had awakened something in me I’d thought long dead.

Instead, I simply nodded, words failing me in the face of emotions I had no right to feel.

“We should go,” I said finally. “To our new quarters. We need to plan our next steps.”

She nodded, composing herself with visible effort. “You’re right. And I need to figure out who that man is, and why he killed me.” A determined look replaced the fear in her eyes. “We’re close, Rhyker. I can feel it.”

Close to answers. Close to her peace. Close to her door.

Close to her leaving me forever.

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on what needed to be done. One step at a time. Find her killer. Understand his motives. Help her find closure.

And try not to lose what was left of my soul in the process.