Page 116 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Footsteps came from behind them, and River hurried down the hall. She’d changed and now wore a knee-length black pencil skirt and a flowing purple blouse. It softened her look but did nothing to temper the rebellious spark in her eyes.

“Ah, my daughter. Late as usual,” Tertia remarked caustically. Yeah, this wasn’t going well at all.

“Am I late? It looks like I’m right on time for the fight.” River crossed her arms.

Mother and daughter glared at each other, and the tension rose and rose. Gods damn it all.

Ryker clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply. If this evening could be saved, he would have to do it now. He pinned Tertia with a glare that would have sent soldiers scurrying to do his bidding. His mother glared right back.

“We’re not fighting,” Ryker ground out. “I was telling Mother how much I love Brynleigh and would do anything for her.”

Ryker held his mother’s gaze. He let her see everything on his face. His anger, his willingness to turn and walk out of this house with his bride, and his resolve to put Brynleigh first, always.

Tertia might have given birth to him, but it didn’t give her the right to treat his Chosen partner with anything less than the utmost respect. Of all the things Ryker held dear, his family was at the top of his list. He respected his mother, but in a week, Brynleigh would be his wife. That put her above everyone else. He would not hesitate to remove them from this situation if it became toxic.

“That’s so sweet, Ryker.” River walked up behind her brother. She wrapped one arm around his waist and the other around Brynleigh’s. Resting her head between them, River grinned first at him and then at his vampire. “Hi. I’m River. It seems my brother has forgotten to introduce us.”

He hadn’t forgotten. He’d been preoccupied with other things, like making sure his mother knew he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect toward his bride.

Brynleigh disentangled herself from his arms and turned around. “It’s nice to meet you, River. You know, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Your brother is rather proud of you.”

Proud was an understatement. River was the most powerful water fae of their generation, and with some training, she would be unstoppable. Not only that, but she was kindhearted and caring. Ryker would do anything for his sister. He’d proven that six years ago.

Memories that he usually kept under wraps pulsed through his mind. Water, pouring from the sky. His hands, outstretched. His well of magic, rapidly draining as he reeled it all in. Utter exhaustion that had kept him down for days.

“I’m proud of him, too.” River smiled up at Ryker and touched his arm. “I came to let you all know dinner’s ready. Dad’s waiting for us.” She bit her lip, making the ring in the middle stand. “He was… tired today.”

Ryker heard the unspoken words as though she’d shouted them at him. We don’t have long.

He turned and hurried to the dining room.

Dinner was a formal affair in more ways than one.

Instead of eating in the smaller dining room near the family’s living quarters like they usually did for their family dinners, they sat in the massive one that could hold fifty people. The table was enormous, and the five of them looked comical sitting at it. A classical concerto dating back to the time of the High Ladies of Life and Death streamed from hidden speakers, adding to the ceremonious air of tonight’s dinner.

Tertia sat at the head of the table, glaring icy daggers at Brynleigh. The Representative hadn’t said anything to the vampire since the library, which was good. If she did, Ryker would either lash out with his magic, words, or both. He wasn’t sure which he would choose if push came to shove, but he would defend Brynleigh to his last breath.

Either way, he knew his mother would not appreciate his actions.

He and Brynleigh sat together in the middle of the table. The pristine white tablecloth was long and hid their joined hands. River was across from them, and Cyrus sat beside his daughter.

No one spoke, as was the norm. For as long as Ryker could remember, Tertia always had one rule at family dinner: no one was allowed to talk until the food was served. Even though her children were grown, the rule still stood.

Ryker picked up his glass of red wine, curling his fingers around the stem. Beside him, Brynleigh had a similar beverage, although hers was spiked with blood. River stared at her empty plate, twisting a lock of hair through her fingers, but Ryker studied his father.

Cyrus’s gaze was clear as he looked around the room from his wheelchair. Though the bags beneath his eyes spoke to the tiredness River had mentioned, it seemed like today was a good day.

Those were rare. The Stillness was a silent thief, stealing their father day by day. Soon, Cyrus would Fade to nothing but dust, his body returning to the black sands where the fae first came from. When the illness first hit, Ryker’s father lost feeling in his toes. Less than a year after that, he’d woken unable to move his feet. Then, his legs.

Every year, it got worse and worse.

The Stillness varied from fae to fae. It struck some like a lightning bolt, stealing their ability to live in one day, while it drained others of life over several years or decades. There was no cure, only methods to make the end of life more manageable.

One day, Cyrus’s heart would stop beating, and his lungs would no longer be able to draw air.

Ryker dreaded that day. All children were meant to see their parents Fade—it was a natural part of life. But this was different. Cyrus hadn’t lived the thousand years his father had before him. He was young for a fae, only four centuries old.

Cyrus Waterborn was everything Tertia was not. Where she was cold, he was warm. Where she was focused on her work, he made sure their children knew they were cared for and loved. Ryker had never doubted his parents loved him because his father showed him affection daily.

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