Page 54 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Keeping his distance, Ryker trailed her. It wasn’t difficult. She was a human, and he was a trained fae. Tracking her movements without being seen required minimal energy. They strolled past the guards stationed throughout the house, and none of them noticed him. He supposed he couldn’t hold it against them. They were searching for external threats, not internal ones.

Still, if these were Ryker’s men, he’d have a few words with them. Evidently, this “secure” location had more than a few security issues. However, their lackluster guarding was playing into Ryker’s favor at the moment.

He kept pace with the Matron through the house. She stopped at the kitchen and picked up a pear tart before descending two flights of stairs. She went down a plain, small corridor, lifting a knitted shawl off a hook on the wall. She wrapped it around herself and slipped out the door without a backward glance.

That was unexpected. Ryker had assumed the Matron would deliver his note somewhere within this house.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Where are you going?”

As the questions piled up and the lack of answers became even more glaring, Ryker took the stairs three at a time. He scanned the door, searching for an alarm, but he didn’t see anything.

At this point, all plausible deniability on his part was gone. If he were caught, he’d have some serious explaining to do as to why he was sneaking about the pack house.

He couldn’t be caught. It was that simple.

Ryker didn’t want to go outside without any sort of weapon. He didn’t know what was waiting for him on the other side of the door. Opening his palm, he reached within himself and summoned his magic. The water was always there, waiting for him. It came eagerly, and he pulled it from his veins, forming a dagger of ice.

Armed and ready to go, he gingerly touched the door handle. It was cool. He held his hand there, waiting to see if there was an alarm, but nothing happened.

He opened the door, and once he was certain the coast was clear, he stepped outside.

A bitter, icy gale slammed into him like a wall of bricks. The sun shone on a blanket of white that covered everything in sight. The snow was beautiful when observed from inside, but outside, it was unpleasant at best.

He swore, rubbing his arms. His black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers were not weather-appropriate. The ice dagger in his hand was a part of him, and the cold emanating from it didn’t bother him. It was his magic, and it sang to him. But although he could hold his dagger for hours without his hand hurting, he wasn’t impervious to weather conditions.

Still, there was no time to wait. He would have to put up with the cold. Picking up a rock from the side of the house, he jammed it inside the lock. Hopefully, the Matron wouldn’t notice that the door didn’t fully close if she returned before him.

The Matron’s shawl flapped as she hurried through the trees, a flag leading him in the right direction. Ignoring the goosebumps crawling over his arms, he was a shadow as he trailed her.

A voice in Ryker’s head chided him for breaking the rules as he prowled through the trees. This kind of behavior was wholly unlike him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d disregarded a regulation.

But it wasn’t for him. It was for Brynleigh. It didn’t matter that he’d only known the vampire for a month or that he’d never seen her. Ryker cared about her and would do anything to keep her safe, including going where he wasn’t supposed to. Technically, they had never said the participants of the Choosing had to remain within the confines of the mansion, but it felt like an unspoken rule.

Birds chirped, and a squirrel hopped across branches, but he kept his eyes on the human ahead of him.

Several minutes passed before a small log cabin appeared through the trees. It wasn’t very big, and midnight curtains were drawn shut. This small building was guarded, unlike the mansion side door he’d slipped out of. Two armed soldiers stood on a wooden covered porch. The Republic’s insignia was on their chests, and they each held large guns as they scanned the forest for threats.

Ryker swore and ducked behind a tree, flattening his palms on the rough bark. Of course, there were guards here who seemed to be doing their jobs. Were they here because of Brynleigh? Perhaps more importantly, were they keeping her safe or holding her against her will?

He wasn’t sure, but he would find out.

He would have to be patient. Years of military service had drilled into him the benefit of forbearance. He would discover what happened to Brynleigh, but he had to be smart about it.

Ryker studied the cabin, ignoring how the icy wind burned the skin on his bare arms. Although they were armed and seemed to be paying attention, the guards’ relaxed aura boded well for Ryker.

Using the trees for cover, he slowly circled the building on silent, trained feet. There were six windows and two doors, one at the front and one at the back.

The latter was unguarded. A spark of hope came to life within him. He circled the cabin twice more, taking in all the details through analytic eyes.

Adjusting his grip on his ice dagger, he snuck towards the back door. The knob was cold, and it didn’t budge as he wiggled it. Locked.

He huffed, and his nostrils flared. That would’ve been too easy.

In case the guards were in the habit of walking the perimeter, Ryker hurried back to the trees and crept around to the front to keep watch.

A few minutes later, Matron Cassandra re-emerged. She stepped outside, nodding to the guards before returning to the mansion. Her hands were empty, and his note was nowhere to be seen.

Confident that his vampire was inside the building, Ryker exhaled and quickly formulated a plan. It was risky but the best way to get eyes inside.

---