Page 115 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Ryker tried to see his childhood home through Brynleigh’s eyes. It was massive. Paintings of his ancestors adorned the walls. Centuries-old statues perched on tables. Gold trimmed the baseboards. A hundred other little touches screamed “old money.” It was less of a home and more of a museum.

They finally reached the engraved library doors. Tertia stopped in front of them and turned. The Representative was nearly a foot shorter than Ryker, but there was no denying the authority with which she carried herself.

Tertia looked past Ryker to the vampire at his side.

“Tell me, Miss de la Point.” His mother had yet to call Brynleigh by her first name, which was grating on Ryker’s last nerve. He would be addressing that issue with his mother tonight as well. “Have you ever read the Ballad of the Light Elves?”

Ryker stared at Tertia. What the hell was going through her mind? The ballad predated the Battle of Balance, a pivotal turning point in their country’s history, and it was written in an ancient dialect of the Common Tongue that very few people still spoke. He had only read the ballad because it was compulsory for his twelfth-grade literature class. The epic tale of good and evil took place during the Fall of the Rose Empire and had no ramifications on their current lives.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t had the privilege,” Brynleigh said sweetly. She hadn’t stooped to Tertia’s level, speaking kindly despite his mother’s uncouth behavior.

“Hmm.” Tertia lifted her shoulder and frowned. “Such a pity. All the girls attending Highmountain’s School for Young Fae study the ballad during their fourth year.”

Ryker slid Brynleigh behind him. It was a subtle movement, but he knew Tertia noticed. “Enough, Mother,” he growled in warning, clenching his fists at his sides.

The Representative’s eyes widened in mock shock, and her hand flew to her heart. Did his mother think him a fool? He knew she was doing this purposefully, and he understood precisely what kind of game she was playing.

“What?” Tertia had the gall to sound innocent. “I’m just curious about what kind of education my son’s girlfriend received. What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s not my girlfriend; she’s my fiancée,” Ryker corrected, not bothering to mask the ire in his voice. “We’re getting married in a week.” He growled. “You know that.”

As far as Ryker was concerned, the week couldn’t go fast enough. He never thought he’d be one to look forward to a wedding, but he was eager to marry his vampire. The weddings promised to be extravagant affairs. When one had as much money as the organizers of the Choosing had at their disposal, lavish events could be thrown together in less than a month.

Tertia sighed. “You know I’m concerned for your well-being, Ryker. If the vampire doesn’t even know the Ballad of the Light Elves, who knows what else is lacking from her education?”

“I—” Brynleigh started to say.

Apparently, Ryker’s mother had lost her mind because she spoke right over Brynleigh. “I’m just saying that you need to be careful, my son. That’s all.”

Ryker growled, “Mother?—”

“It’s not too late, you know. I talked to Ignatia, and the Rose girl would be willing to break her engagement to Edward. I watched the Choosing with the rest of the world and saw you two together. Valentina would be a marvelous wife for you, Ryker, dear. She’s powerful, strong, and well-educated.”

Had Ryker been angry before? That was nothing compared to the fury churning in him now.

The air in the hallway practically crackled. His water magic thrummed steadily in his veins, itching to be released. There was a storm within him, needing to protect what was his. His nostrils flared. Red tinged his vision.

He stepped towards his mother, looming over her, and yelled, “Enough!”

Tertia gasped, pressing a hand against her heart once more. “Ryker Elias Waterborn, do not raise your voice to me!”

Power rippled from her.

Goosebumps broke out on Ryker’s arms. So much for waiting until after dinner. Their conversation would be happening right fucking now.

“I will do whatever it takes to protect my fiancée, Mother.” He held Brynleigh at his side. “I will not allow you to disrespect my Chosen bride in such a manner. Do not speak to me of Valentina Rose or any other woman again. I will not stand for it. I have made my Choice, and I will not go back on my word. I love Brynleigh.”

His chest heaved as his words echoed around them. He had meant every single one and wouldn’t take them back.

His mother’s bottom lip wobbled. For a single moment, Ryker wondered if he’d been too harsh. But then Tertia opened her mouth. Her voice lacked all traces of maternal warmth, and she stared daggers at her firstborn.

“You dare speak to me about your Choice?” Her eyes narrowed, and the temperature in the hallway dropped as she moved closer to Ryker. “You’ve Chosen an undead bloodsucker who has no lineage, proper education, or finances to speak of. You don’t want my advice? Fine. Don’t come crying to Mommy when it all falls apart. I won’t give a damn.”

Ryker snarled, the sound feral as it ripped through him.

How fucking dare she? In all his years, he’d heard his mother be cold but never cruel in this fashion. He’d brought Brynleigh for a nice, civilized family dinner, but his mother was destroying it before it even began with her poisonous, barbed words.

“This won’t fall apart. I love her,” Ryker seethed. His fingers curled around Brynleigh’s, and he stepped back from his mother. “This was a bad idea. We should?—”

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