Page 39 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

He’d had his fair share of nightmares, both due to his job and his father’s illness. Waking up alone, tangled in sheets, was horrible.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough, and his arms ached with the desire to hold her. “Do you want to tell me about them?”

A bitter laugh came through the headphones. “Why would you want to hear about my bad dreams?”

His brows tented, and he leaned forward. “Because they bothered you, sweetheart, and I care a great deal about you.”

If he was honest, he could see himself more than liking Brynleigh. She made it easy for him to care about her.

This was the first time he had admitted to having feelings for the vampire out loud. He thought it would scare him to say something like that, especially after spending so many years without participating in the outside world, but it didn’t.

His heart sped up as he waited for her response.

Their match was unorthodox. Ryker was the first to admit that fae and vampires didn’t traditionally get along. But something about Brynleigh made him feel as if he could relax about the rules he so often followed, and the world wouldn’t fall apart around him.

She hitched a breath, and when she spoke, her voice was quieter than before. “Ryker?—”

“You know if I said it, it’s true.” He inhaled. “I?—”

The ground beneath him trembled. A massive boom echoed. The walls rattled. Someone screamed, the sound audible despite the supposedly noise-cancelling headphones.

Jumping off the hammock, Ryker smoothly fell into a fighting stance. He called out, “Brynleigh?”

Harsh, abrupt static was the only thing he heard.

Time seemed to slow as the air in the ballroom shifted. Gone was the lightheartedness from earlier, and in its place was tense anticipation and worry.

Another tremor shook the ground. This one was worse than the last. A crack appeared on the floor in front of him.

“Earthquake!” someone yelled.

Again, Ryker shouted for Brynleigh, but there was no response. He tried Celeste next, but nothing happened.

“Fuck.” He clenched his fists.

This was bad.

Philippe, the Earth Elf, dropped to the ground a few feet away. He ripped off his headphones. Tendrils of emerald magic slipped from his hands, and he placed his palms flat on the marble. The ribbons sank into the ground and disappeared.

Less than a minute later, Philippe raised glowing green eyes and shook his head. “No, this isn’t an earthquake. The land has nothing to do with this.”

A third tremor ripped through the building. This one was different from the first two. Closer. It stretched on and on.

Ryker’s heart thundered as he fell back on his military training. He hurried towards the guards. The soldiers were already shouting orders at each other. Therian was picking up shards of glass where they’d shattered near the bar.

An ear-piercingly loud siren blared.

The image on the dividing wall shuttered, pixelating before transforming into a flashing red screen.

“Code Orange, Code Orange.” Celeste’s amplified voice came through a dozen hidden speakers. “Everyone within ten miles from the Hall of Choice must take cover immediately.”

Ryker’s blood was ice in his veins. He’d memorized these codes early on and knew them backward and forwards. Golden City was under attack.

His fingers twitched, and his magic pulsed in his veins. He needed to be out there fighting, not standing in some grand ballroom.

Ryker ran to the nearest guard. “I’m Captain Waterborn of the Fae Division.” He rattled off his identification number. “What’s happening?”

The guard’s name tag read Orion. “I know who you are, Captain.” Orion’s voice was as harsh and unforgiving as his eyes. He was a military man through and through. “We’re under strict orders to move all participants to the bunkers until the attack has passed.”

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