Page 92 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Wait.

What?

No.

That was wrong. This was wrong.

She wanted…

Ryker’s fingers curled around her hip, and he nipped her. Oh gods. One simple action had no business feeling so good. A tremor ran through Brynleigh, starting at her toes and making its way up her legs and to her core. Her head fell back on a groan. Her glass of wine dangled from her fingers. She forgot everything else. This fae could do whatever he wanted to her.

“Then I’ll get rid of them,” he growled. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Darkness was laced in his words, an unveiled threat directed towards anyone that might come between them that Brynleigh liked far too much. She’d never been one to enjoy overt acts of possessiveness, especially not from fae males, but that seemed to be rapidly changing.

Brynleigh could get used to having someone willing to fight for her. She’d been alone for so long.

Except…

No.

What the fuck was she doing? This was incredibly wrong. She couldn’t get used to this or let the captain talk to her in this fashion. She wasn’t just bending the rules but breaking them all together.

Gods-damn it, what was she thinking? This was a game. She wasn’t supposed to let him touch her like this. She wasn’t allowed to have any emotions. They were far too dangerous.

Brynleigh’s blood chilled, and her fingers spasmed.

The crystal glass tumbled from her hand in slow motion, the liquid spilling out in a red arc and staining the ground in a pool of blood moments before the glass shattered.

Her head ached. A buzzing filled her ears. She needed to get out of here right now. Shadows bubbled in her veins. Control was a foreign concept as her head spun.

There was no losing. Not in this game.

Ryker shouted her name, but she could barely hear him over the roaring. She blinked, trying to clear her head.

His hands landed on her forearms, and his grip was firm but gentle. “What’s wrong?”

Mistake, mistake, mistake.

She needed to leave, but the panic…

Tighter and tighter, a fist squeezed her lungs. Air. She sipped it, but it didn’t help. She gasped, “I?—”

The power flickered, and then the overhead lights went out.

Someone screamed.

A man yelled, “Take cover!”

Another shouted, “Get the Chancellor!”

“For freedom!” a woman cried out.

Brynleigh’s brows furrowed. The hairs on her neck stood on end. Her shadows pulsed in warning. “What?—”

Her next words never came. The ground shook like the gods were throwing furniture around. An explosion.

Something slammed into Brynleigh’s neck. Pain bloomed, drawing her into its agonizing embrace.

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