Page 35 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

To call the experience abnormal would have been an understatement. Ryker did not ask the women about their appearances—he wanted to maintain the integrity of the Choosing and was enjoying getting to know them without thinking about how they looked—but that didn’t stop them from invading his dreams.

Especially one particular vampire.

Brynleigh de la Point was a frequent guest in Ryker’s mind during all hours of the day and night. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He learned more about her each time they interacted, but it was never enough.

The vampire captivated him and made him comfortable. He always desired more time with her. Their conversations were easy, and their dates always passed quickly. When they weren’t together, Ryker thought about her.

A lot.

He thought about the way she’d feel beneath his hands. About her body beneath his, pressed against a mattress. About the way she’d taste. About the sounds she’d make as he made her his in every way.

Ryker was becoming a master of listening. He’d learned that Brynleigh often sucked in a breath when she was surprised by something, that she laughed rarely, but when she did, it was a beautiful sound, and that in the morning, her voice was rougher than when they met in the afternoons.

He yearned to hear that voice after a night in his bed, hoarse from calling out his name as he spent himself inside her.

Ryker tugged on jeans and a navy sweater, turning to face himself in the mirror.

“You have it bad,” he told his reflection.

Ryker hadn’t officially made a Choice, but his decision was becoming clearer every day. It wouldn’t be long before he knew which woman he wanted.

Pleased with his appearance, Ryker headed to the ballroom.

Matron Cassandra was waiting for him, standing next to the guards who had become commonplace around the Hall of Choice. The rebels hadn’t attacked again, but Ryker had repeatedly overheard the soldiers discuss unrest throughout the Republic.

The Matron bounced on the balls of her feet, and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled up at him. “It’s ready,” Cassandra whispered, her head barely coming up halfway on Ryker’s chest. “She’s going to love it.”

Last night, he’d asked the Matron if he could send a gift to one of his dates. Evidently, Cassandra was a romantic because she’d eagerly agreed.

“Do you think so?” Ryker was surprisingly nervous about this, which was strange. He’d given hundreds of gifts throughout his lifetime, but none had meant as much as this.

“Absolutely.” The Matron nodded enthusiastically. She clasped Ryker’s larger hand between her wrinkled ones and squeezed. “Young man, if that beautiful vampire doesn’t already feel something for you, this will certainly push her in the right direction.”

He hoped she was right. “Thank you, Matron.”

Grinning up at him, Matron Cassandra released Ryker’s hand and tapped him affectionately on the arm. “Go get your girl.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he entered the ballroom and grabbed his headphones. As had become his routine, Ryker ordered a coffee while Celeste informed him his date was incoming. He picked up a breakfast sandwich and went to what had become his hammock.

The item he’d asked Matron Cassandra to procure was waiting for him on the table. His grin widened. It was perfect.

He slid into the hammock, getting comfortable while balancing his coffee.

Today, the visual wall was taking them on a tour of a desert garden in the Southern Region. It was filled with vibrant flowers that ranged from the darkest of blues to the lightest of yellows. He was certain each shade had a name, but he didn’t know what they were. Still, the garden was relaxing, and tension left Ryker’s body as he waited for his date to begin.

He’d finished chewing by the time the classical music clicked off. He sat forward, almost falling out of the hammock in his haste to talk to Brynleigh. He felt like a schoolboy who had sent his crush a note, except… not. This was far bigger than that.

Reminding himself that he was a fully grown, Mature fae who was more than capable of conversing with the woman he had feelings for, Ryker cleared his throat. “Good morning, Brynleigh.”

“Morning, Ryker.” The smile in her voice was evident. “How did you sleep?”

“Well, thank you.” Wondering where all his confidence had gone, he quickly added, “I sent you a gift. It should be on the table next to you.”

“Really?” She hummed, and he pictured her searching for it. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know the shape of her body or the color of her hair because he was getting to know her.

He knew the moment she saw it because she inhaled sharply. “Oh, Ryker. A chess board.”

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