Page 112 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Even worse than all that, Ryker kept checking in on Brynleigh. He brought her a mug of warmed blood from the stash he’d had shipped to the apartment, and he stayed beside her the entire afternoon.

And they weren’t just sitting together. No. The water fae was always touching her. A hand on her shoulder. A thigh pressed against hers. His thumb on her hip, rubbing circles.

If their date had ended here and she’d been returning to the safe house right away, Brynleigh would have been fine. She could have handled that.

But no.

That had just been the beginning. Now, the real test was underway. Ryker’s hand was a brand on Brynleigh’s back as he led her to the underground parking garage. The same man who’d driven them there stood outside the car.

“Captain, Miss.” The driver dipped his head. “I hope you had a pleasant afternoon.”

Unfortunately, yes, Brynleigh thought to herself. She had the common sense not to say that, though. It would open a can of worms she had no intention of dealing with.

“We did, thank you, Davis,” Ryker said.

Davis moved towards the door as though to open it, but Ryker got there first. In yet another considerate gesture—really, this was becoming overwhelming—he held it open for Brynleigh and waited for her to enter the vehicle.

Once Brynleigh was inside, Ryker slid in after her. The air still smelled of sex, and Brynleigh blushed as she buckled in. Gods, this day couldn’t be over fast enough.

“How far is your parents’ house?” Brynleigh tapped her pocket to make sure she hadn’t forgotten her phone. She needed to be available in case her Maker called.

“Thirty minutes without traffic.” Ryker slung his arm over her shoulder and drew her flush against him. “How do you feel?”

“I’m… nervous.” And for good reason. She had no idea what she’d say to his parents.

Hi, it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Brynleigh de la Point. I’m twenty-nine, and six years ago, your son killed my entire family and almost killed me. I’m going to marry and then murder him to get my revenge in the most dramatic and emotionally damaging way possible.

She hadn’t participated in many family gatherings in the past six years, but she was fairly certain that wouldn’t go over well.

“They’re going to love you as much as I do.” Ryker kissed her forehead, and his lips lingered on her skin for several seconds before he added, “You’re amazing, and they’ll see that.”

“I hope so,” she murmured.

“They’d be stupid not to.” He rapped on the roof, and then, they were off.

As Golden City passed them by, Brynleigh stared out the darkened window. Everything she’d learned about Ryker’s mother scrolled through Brynleigh’s mind. Although Ryker himself had become somewhat of a recluse since the flood, plenty of information was available about Representative Waterborn.

Born almost three centuries ago, Tertia was a direct descendant of the very first fae who’d crossed the Indigo Ocean and settled into what used to be known as the Four Kingdoms. Her great-grandfather, seven times over, was part of the initial council that had abolished the kingdoms’ borders and created the Republic of Balance after the High Ladies of Life and Death and their mates Faded.

None of that research had told Brynleigh what Tertia was like as a mother, though. Was she kind, as Isolde had been? Or perhaps Tertia was distant, cruel, and preoccupied. Brynleigh wasn’t sure. All she knew for certain was that the Waterborns were made of money.

That begged the question of why Ryker lived in a one-bedroom apartment in the middle of Golden City. Surely, he could afford to reside wherever he chose.

It was a question for another time. Or not. Ryker would be dead in a week. He could bring the answer with him to the grave. Brynleigh should be focusing on asking less questions, not more. She was already confused, and feeding that doubt was unwise.

The view slowly changed as they left the central city behind. Tall, looming glass buildings gave way to short, sprawling homes made of red brick. Shining offices became long one-story malls and individual shops. Packed neighborhoods became rambling estates with pristine gardens and emerald-green lawns.

Ryker sat beside Brynleigh, his quiet presence grounding her as they drew nearer to his childhood home. He didn’t try to engage her in conversation, seeming to realize she needed the silence.

Because, of course, he did.

The car slowed as they entered a gated community. Brynleigh’s palms slickened.

They drove up a long, paved driveway. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs. It hadn’t beat this quickly since before she was Made.

No one had ever brought Brynleigh to meet their parents before. She wasn’t a nice girl—even before she’d taken up vigilante killing and revenge plots, she hadn’t been sweet. That was her sister’s role in life.

This isn’t real, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. Remember your boundaries.

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