Page 52 of Reaper’s Ruin (Reaper’s Ruin Trilogy #1)

He nodded. “All Storm Court fae are resistant to lightning. It’s an innate trait of your bloodline. However, no Storm fae is immune to combined blasts from multiple Storm Warriors. One can’t hurt you but if several combine forces, it’s still deadly. ”

“Wow. So it’s officially official then. I’m a Storm Court fae.” I palmed my face still mindblown by the truth in my heritage. “But I couldn’t like, summon it or control it or anything,” I said, remembering how some of the Storm Warriors had wielded lightning like weapons.

“No. Those powers come only after completing the Storm Trial.”

“Tell me more about this trial. You mentioned it once before. Each court has one?”

“Yes. Each court has a sacred ritual—a trial that grants full access to their elemental powers. For the Storm Court, it involves climbing to the peak of the Thunderspire Mountain during the worst storm of the season and allowing yourself to be struck by lightning, harnessing it and channeling it. The lightning at the peak is so powerful it will kill even Storm Fae.”

I stared at him. “That sounds... fatal.”

“It often is,” he agreed. “More fail than succeed. That’s why most fae are content with their innate abilities.

Only the ambitious or power-hungry attempt the trials.

They must open themselves to the power of the lightning, harnessing it and claiming it.

If they aren’t ready, it kills them. But then, even after that part is finished, they must now ride the wind.

They must endure winds powerful enough to strip your skin and harness it, then use it to ride to the floating islands above Thunderspire you saw.

They float on the never-ending current of wind strong enough to kill anything that passes through it.

But to finish the trial, they must harness it, ride it and claim their heritage at the top of the floating island. ”

“Wow,” I breathed, imagining these fae trying to complete this deadly trial that seemed impossible in my mind. Harnessing lightning? Channeling wind? Riding it like a surfboard to a floating island to prove you could? Insane.

“Your father was also a Realm Walker,” Rhyker continued. “One of the few fae born with the ability to travel between realms. It’s an exceedingly rare gift, not tied to any specific court.”

I frowned. “So, my dad, the King, could Realm Walk, but if it was illegal to go to the Mortal Realm, why did he go there? To sire heirs there where they’d be safe from his sister?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he simply enjoyed exploring other worlds. Realm Walkers are known for their wanderlust. And King Aric was known to be quite mischievous. A rule breaker. I’m sure he felt a thrill in breaking Faelora law just crossing into your realm.”

“And we’re thinking that I’m a Realm Walker too? That’s why I was able to come to Faelora and return?”

He shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know but it certainly makes sense. It’s not always passed on to children, in fact it usually skips generations, but you could be the exception.”

“How do I do it? How do I, you know, Realm Walk? It’s only happened on accident when I first got here.

When I was really scared. In fact, I’m surprised it didn’t happen when we were attacked in the castle.

I was super scared. For a second there, I wondered if I was just going to poof away again. But I didn’t.”

Despite the terror of guards charging at us, blood spraying, and the fear of death crushing down on me, I supposed a part of me hadn’t wanted to escape. Hadn’t needed to flit off to safety. There was nowhere in any realm I felt safer than with him.

“I don’t know anything about how to control Realm Walking powers.

That’s very rare, and I assume it would require some training to use it properly.

Perhaps when you were a soul, untethered to a body, it was easier to access.

Now in physical form, it won’t come easily until someone teaches you to use it. ”

“Ah.” I nodded, lips pursed as I contemplated his words. “That actually makes sense. So I would need to find someone to show me how to do it in human form. In spirit form, I was just a soul so it was likely easier to realm walk without a physical body.”

He nodded. “I’m not sure, of course, but it would make the most sense.”

“And usually you inherit it, so I’m assuming your family teaches you?”

“Yes. It’s not always directly inherited though. It often skips many generations, but anyone with Realm Walking in their bloodline would have someone in the family to help them harness it if the power showed up.”

“But my father, the fucking Storm Court King, is dead. And Lord Cassius, that asshole, is also dead. And I don’t think we know any other Realm Walkers. So, pretty much screwed on the whole someone teaching me how to use this power, huh?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have an answer to that either. I just know that certain fae can travel to different realms, or even in some cases, travel to different spots in their own realm. Kind of similar to how I could slice through shadows and go anywhere.”

“And why is that illegal?”

He shook his head. “Honestly, we don’t know.

Centuries ago, when they wiped out humanity, it was like fear of humans seeped into the fae like poison.

They killed us all and even made realm travel to the Mortal Realm punishable by death so no human could be brought back here.

I honestly couldn’t tell you what caused the panic.

There are stories, of course, but so many versions we’ll never know the truth of it.

But whatever it was, it was enough to turn every fae in this cursed realm into human-slaying monsters. ”

I picked at a loose thread on my torn dress, trying to reconcile these new truths with the life I’d known. “And I’m one of them.”

“Half,” he corrected. “You’re still half-human, ”

“But I’m half-fae. An heir to the Storm Court throne. And I can’t get my peace and move on until what? I kill the Queen Mother? Take my rightful place as princess? What?”

“I don’t know,” Rhyker admitted. “Only you can determine what will bring you peace.”

His words were reasonable, logical even. But they didn’t touch the real issue burning between us like lightning—the issue he was so carefully avoiding.

“And if... something else is what is keeping me here even after I get this vengeance we think I need? Then what?”

The question hung in the air between us, challenging, impossible. Something shifted in his expression—a crack in that impenetrable armor he wore like a second skin.

“You’ll get your door,” he said finally.

“When the time comes, when you find your peace, it will appear. You’ll want to find your mother.

To see what awaits beyond. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive until that moment comes.

Protect you from any dangers so you get your chance to find peace. And I... I’ll be here long after.”

The raw honesty in his voice stripped away my anger, leaving only aching sympathy. Eight hundred years of watching souls move on, of remaining behind in endless solitude.

Was that why he was trying to maintain distance?

Was it possible he felt more for me than I realized—that my leaving would pain him as much as the thought of leaving him pained me?

I shook the notion from my head almost immediately. No. That was ridiculous. Rhyker was an immortal, all-powerful being who’d existed for centuries. He was literally Death itself.

And I was... what? Soraya Peterman. A nursing student who’d died in her pajamas. Boring. Human. Completely forgettable .

Sure, we had chemistry. The kind of explosive, mind-blowing physical connection that had left me shattered on that desk. But that was just lust, wasn’t it?

Eight hundred years of solitude would make anyone desperate for touch. For connection. For release.

And yet... sometimes, when he looked at me, I couldn’t help but think I saw something deeper than primal need.

The way he’d torn Lord Cassius’s heart from his chest for insulting me.

The way he protected me like I meant more to him than his own life.

The way his control shattered whenever another man touched me.

But that couldn’t be love. Not for someone like me. I was just... convenient. Available. Here.

There was no way a man like him could feel what I felt. Not really. Not the way I burned for him.

Maybe he wanted me—craved me, even—but that was different.

That was instinct. Lust. An alpha male need to possess.

Eight hundred years of loneliness and now I was the woman placed in his path.

He’d likely have ripped the clothes off any woman with the same passion as he had me, even though that thought made my stomach churn, thinking of him with anyone other than me.

It wasn’t possible he mirrored the power of my true feelings. Not the raw, aching depth that hollowed me out every time I looked at him.

And after what happened between us—after that connection—I’d almost let myself hope.

But the way he pulled back, distant and cold, only proved my theory: whatever he felt for me, it wasn’t the same.

He might have wanted my body.

But I was already losing my heart .

He stood abruptly, turning away. “We should rest while we can. The Flame Court border is still at least a three-day ride away. We won’t be safe until we reach it.”

I watched as he pushed some leaves together, forming what appeared to be a bed. He took off his jacket, gesturing for me to come over and lay down.

I did as he asked, and he covered me with his jacket, the gentle gesture making my heart clench inside me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, the exhaustion from our day already starting to overcome my aching muscles and heavy eyes. “And when we reach the Flame Court, we’ll be safe there?”

His face tightened. “Safe from the Storm Warriors, yes. But the Flame Court won’t take kindly to visitors, and we still have to worry about the Veil Lords figuring out what I’m up to and sending Reapers for you.

We have no idea if they can harm you in this form since you may be in a mortal shell, which they can’t normally touch, but you’re technically dead.

So no, we won’t be safe. Not until you find your peace and move on. Now get some rest. I’ll keep watch.”

He strode away sliding down beside a tree that gave him a sweeping view of our surroundings, leaving me lying alone, aching for him, inhaling his smell on the jacket I pulled tight around me wishing it was his arms instead.

The ominous warning had sent a pang of fear coursing through me.

The threat was real. I really could be pulled into oblivion at any moment.

Never see my mother again. But even as I knew this to be fact, even though I had watched my murderer get dragged into the horrifying afterlife awaiting him, I still couldn’t will myself to find the peace I needed to move on. Something was holding me here.

And I couldn’t stop the thoughts running through my mind that it was... him. How could I make peace with leaving behind the only man who had ever made me feel so alive. Made me feel.. .

The word rattled around in my head, ridiculous as it may have sounded at first, but also so powerfully true that I couldn’t unring the bell once I’d rang it.

Love.

What I felt for him, the emotions surging through me like wildfire burning across a dry prairie were... love.

And now I couldn’t imagine any life, any afterlife, without him.

But you’ll find your door. You’ll move on. That’s how this works.

And the truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. Of course I wanted to see my mother again. Of course I wanted the peace of knowing what lay beyond that door.

But I also wanted the man sitting several feet away, his back deliberately turned to me. I wanted his touch, his rare smiles, his fierce protection. I wanted to break through the walls he’d built over centuries of solitude.

I wanted the impossible—to have both worlds, both futures.

But only certainty remained: whatever happened next, whatever choices lay before me, nothing would be simple.

Especially now that I realized it wasn’t lust.

Wasn’t some reckless need to feel something—anything—before I vanished.

It was more.

It was real.

It was undeniable.

I’d fallen in love with Death himself.