Page 43 of Reaper’s Ruin (Reaper’s Ruin Trilogy #1)

We reached the royal wing, where Lord Cassius kept his chambers. The hallways here were more heavily guarded, but Rhyker moved with impossible stealth for someone his size. He guided me confidently, as if he’d spent a lifetime moving unseen through hostile territory.

Which, I supposed, he had.

As we approached another corner, he threw his arm out in front of me—a silent command to stop. He tilted his head, listening, then suddenly pulled me into a shadowed alcove as footsteps approached.

My back hit the wall, and Rhyker’s body pressed against mine, sheltering me from view. In an instant, the world narrowed to the points where our bodies touched—his chest against mine, his thigh between my legs, his breath warm against my hair.

“Don’t move,” he whispered as the guard approached, his lips accidentally brushing the edge of my ear.

A shiver ran through me, having nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way his powerful body felt against mine. I was dizzy with his closeness, with the scent of him—something dark and male that made my pulse race.

My hands rested against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady but slightly faster than normal. Was he affected by our proximity too? Or was it just the adrenaline of our mission?

The guard passed, oblivious to our presence in the darkness, but Rhyker remained frozen, his body still pressing mine into the wall. I looked up at him, our faces inches apart, and found his eyes locked on mine, dark with an intensity that made my breath catch.

For an endless moment, neither of us moved. I was afraid to breathe, afraid to break whatever spell had fallen over us. The air between us felt charged, electric with possibility .

“Rhyker,” I breathed, my voice barely audible. “The guard is gone.”

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, then stepped back with visible reluctance. I immediately missed his warmth, the solid strength of him against me.

We continued on, only to repeat the torturous process twice more.

Each time we hid together, pressed into dark corners of the hallway, the tension between us grew more unbearable.

His hands lingered longer on my waist. My fingers curled more tightly in the fabric of his jacket.

His eyes held mine for heartbeats longer than necessary.

By the time we reached Lord Cassius’s chambers, I was half-convinced that if we had to hide in one more dark corner together, one of us would snap and, we’d end up banging against a wall with no cares in the world of who saw us or that we’d likely get tossed in the dungeon when we got caught sneaking into the royal corridor.

Part of me thought it would be worth it to finally, finally, get to feel the full force of that powerful man.

But somehow I managed to stop myself from assaulting him with my tongue again, and we reached the ornate door marked with Lord Cassius’s personal crest—a lightning bolt crossed with a sword.

Rhyker quickly picked the lock then pulled me inside, closing the door silently behind us, and locking it again.

The chamber was dark save for the faint glow of embers in the hearth, but my eyes gradually adjusted to reveal a space dripping with opulence—plush carpets, ornate furniture, and walls adorned with tapestries depicting Storm Court victories.

“Wow,” I whispered, taking in the luxury surrounding us. “Somebody likes to live large. ”

My murderer. My murderer likes to live large. And possibly my father.

It felt strange standing in his space.

“Focus,” Rhyker reminded me, his voice a low rumble in the darkness. “We need to find that list.”

I nodded, pushing aside my distraction. We moved methodically through the sitting room, checking bookshelves and cabinets while being careful to leave everything exactly as we found it.

I ran my fingers along ornate carvings, searching for hidden compartments, for anything that might conceal a secret document.

Rhyker crossed to a massive desk at the far end of the room, his movements silent and purposeful as he examined its drawers and edges.

I bumped into a small table concealed in a shadow.

“Careful!” Rhyker snapped at me.

That was it. I’d had it with the hot and the cold, the kind and the cruel. I planted my hands on my hips, sighing as my frustration built. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or are we just going to keep pretending everything’s fine?”

He didn’t look up from his search. “I’m not pretending anything.”

“Really?” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice. “Because you’ve been acting strange since the moment Lord Destan approached me. You looked like you wanted to tear his arm off when he’d touched me.”

“He was being inappropriately familiar.”

“He was being polite. It’s what people do here.” I paused, then added more softly, “Were you jealous?”

His hands stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming their methodical search. “What? No. Of course not.”

“Then why are you so angry right now?”

“I’m not angry. ”

“Your face says otherwise.” I moved closer, noticing how his shoulders tensed at my approach. “Is it because I’m half-fae? Is that what’s bothering you? Because ever since Elira mentioned it, you’ve been even more distant than usual.”

He turned to face me fully, his expression impossible to read in the dim light. “I’m not bothered by your heritage.”

“Liar.” I stepped closer, heart pounding with my boldness. “You hate the fae. You’ve made that abundantly clear. And now you’ve found out I’m one of them.”

“Half,” he corrected automatically, and I could have screamed in frustration.

“So that’s it. You’re pulling away because I’m not fully human.”

“That’s not—” He stopped, his jaw working as he struggled for words. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Then explain it to me. Because from where I’m standing, it seems pretty simple. We kissed, you found out I’m half-fae, and ever since then, you’ve been acting cold as ice. You can barely look at me.”

The mention of our kiss changed something in the air between us—made it heavier, charged with memory and need. His eyes darkened, drifting momentarily to my lips before snapping back to meet my gaze.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand!” I kept my voice to a fierce whisper, though I wanted to shout.

“Because I’m getting some seriously mixed signals here.

One minute you’re looking at me like you want to devour me, the next you’re acting like I’m poison.

Then I talk to another man, and suddenly you’re shooting death glares across the room. ”

“You seemed to be enjoying his attention,” he said, his voice sharper than I’d heard it before.

My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “So you were jealous. ”

“I was... concerned,” he corrected, but I wasn’t buying it. “You’re getting too comfortable in this role. Too invested in a world you don’t belong in.”

The words stung more than they should have. “And where exactly do I belong?” I challenged. “I’m dead, Rhyker. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“You belong—” He cut himself off abruptly, his expression shuttering.

I stepped closer, heart hammering. “I belong where? With whom?”

“You belong—” He stopped himself, teeth gritted, breath shallow. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. Like he wanted to grab me, hold me, keep me, and was barely keeping himself in check.

His eyes met mine, and I saw something raw and unguarded in them—something that made my breath catch. Fear? Longing? Desire? Something... more?

Time stopped as he stood there, his mouth closed tight as if he was trying to hold in the words I prayed he would say.

Say it, I thought, desperate to hear the words tumble from those lips I wanted to kiss again, and again, and again.

But I didn’t need him to finish the sentence. I saw the answer in his eyes. And that was somehow worse. I could see it all written across his face—the longing, the ache, the storm he couldn’t quiet.

It was the same storm raging inside of me.

“I kissed you,” I said finally, my voice softer now.

“And you’ve been acting like it never happened.

Like I mouth-molested you and you’re horrified by it.

But then you look at me sometimes, like right now, and I think—” I hesitated, vulnerability washing over me.

“I think maybe you felt it too. Whatever this is between us.”

He remained silent, but his gaze lifted and his eyes... his eyes told a different story. They roamed my face with an intensity that left me breathless, lingering on my lips before meeting my gaze again.

Before Rhyker could respond, the sound of voices in the corridor outside froze us both. They were getting closer, heading directly for the chamber.

Panic surged through me. Rhyker grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the window where heavy velvet curtains offered the only hiding place.

We pressed ourselves into the narrow space between the curtain and the glass, my back against the cold window as Rhyker’s body covered mine completely. In the confined space, every inch of him seemed to touch every inch of me—his stomach against my breasts, my hips against his thigh.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, his lips so close to my ear that I felt rather than heard the words. “Don’t breathe.”

The door to the chamber opened with a soft click, and footsteps entered the room—two sets, from the sound of it. My fingers clutched reflexively at Rhyker’s jacket, fear making my heart race.

Or maybe it wasn’t just fear.

Despite the danger, despite the possibility of discovery, my body was achingly aware of Rhyker’s proximity. The solid wall of his chest. The warmth radiating from him. The way his breath stirred my hair.

I could feel the hard planes of his body, every muscle tense and ready. And then—impossible to miss given how tightly we were pressed together—I felt something else. His body’s unmistakable reaction to mine.

My eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping my lips before I could stop it as his undeniably sizeable cock pressed tight against me.

His gaze locked with mine, and I saw raw hunger there, barely restrained.

He shifted slightly, trying to create space between us, but in the cramped hiding spot, the movement only pressed us more firmly together.

I bit my lip to stifle another sound, and his eyes tracked the movement, darkening further. The danger of discovery, the adrenaline of our mission, the week of building tension between us—it all coalesced into this single, breathless moment.

The voices drew closer to our hiding place.

Lord Cassius and Lord Marwyn.

My heart raced with the fear of discovery.

Or was it the man holding me in his arms causing it to speed like an Indy car rushing toward the finish line.

A potent blend of fear and lust swirled around inside me as I clung to him, the curtain the only thing separating us from the two men on the other side.

The one my murderer.

What would happen if they discovered us?

But as quickly as the fear lifted through my chest and up into my throat, I looked up and caught Rhyker’s stormy eyes staring into mine.

In that moment, I knew, with certainty, that even if they discovered us, even if they ripped open this curtain in my next breath, he would protect me.

He would always protect me.

His feelings for me, the ones he couldn’t seem to claim, were real. I could feel it in his touch. See it in his eyes. Sense it with every nerve of my body that crackled to life in his arms.

We remained frozen in that endless moment, bodies pressed together, breaths mingling, surrounded by enemies. I had never felt so alive, so present, so aware of every sensation.

And as I stared up into Rhyker’s eyes—those ancient, storm-gray eyes that had seen centuries pass—I knew with absolute certainty:

Whatever this was between us, it was real.

And it was worth fighting for, even if our time together might be measured in days rather than the eternity he had already lived.

Because whether I was fully human or half-fae, whether I found my door tomorrow or never, I had already fallen for Death himself.

And from the look in his eyes, I was starting to wonder if the feeling was mutual.

“Get the list,” Lord Cassius’s voice drifted closer, and I felt Rhyker’s entire body coil with lethal tension.

We were trapped, pressed together behind a curtain, while my killer stood mere feet away.

And I had never felt more alive.