Page 153 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

When Brynleigh was done, she sagged in the chair. Her eyes closed, and tears fell down her face.

“I could have loved him,” she admitted, mostly to herself. “I think maybe I did. And now, he’s gone.”

For the longest time, silence stretched in the room. She felt Victor’s gaze on her, but he didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

Her words echoed in the quiet. Her admission lodged itself in her broken heart. She hadn’t thought it was possible to hurt even more than she already had, but she was wrong.

She was still hurting, still in pain, still broken.

And Ryker was still fucking dead.

What did it matter if Brynleigh regretted everything she’d done?

He was gone.

“Do whatever you want with me,” Brynleigh muttered. “I have no one and nothing.”

Victor didn’t say anything.

Minutes stretched by. The weight of everything she’d confessed fell around her.

She wept and wept and wept.

Someone banged on the wall. Footsteps shuffled. The door closed.

She didn’t bother moving or opening her eyes. Victor would be back, or maybe it would be Preston or Emilia. It didn’t matter. They would bring more pain, more torture, and more questions about the rebels that Brynleigh didn’t know how to answer.

This was her life now until they decided to put her out of her miserable existence.

When the door creaked open again, Brynleigh sighed and waited for the next burst of pain.

It never came.

There were two other people in the room. She could hear their breaths in this too-quiet place of agony, and she felt their gazes on her.

She didn’t know who they were.

Once, without the prohiberis blocking her magic, she could’ve scented them. Right now, her nose worked like a mortal’s. Those drops of blood hadn’t been nearly enough to heal her, let alone restore her former strength.

Footsteps circled Brynleigh. A hand grazed the back of her shoulders. She stiffened. The touch was oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

Then, the pair left. She knew they were gone because the air in the room lightened. She exhaled, keeping her eyes shut. Why bother opening them?

When Victor came to release her from the chair, she’d look at her injuries long enough to catalog them before taking care of her personal needs and curling up in the corner to sleep.

The door opened again. That was strange. Usually, they didn’t return so soon. Maybe they’d forgotten something?

“Open your eyes, Brynleigh.”

That voice. She knew that voice. She’d been speaking with it for weeks. It haunted her dreams and, more recently, her nightmares.

Was she hallucinating? Was this the end? Maybe the blood had been drugged. Maybe they’d decided to kill her after all.

“Look at me,” they commanded. There was a hint of apology in their voice, as if they felt bad for her. But that couldn’t be true. Brynleigh was alone, and no one cared about her.

For a moment, she didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She sat frozen, shock running through her like ice. And yet, she had to know.

What if…

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