Page 92 of Reaper's Ruin
“Lady Soraya!” a voice called, and I tensed immediately.
Lord Destan approached, his annoyingly handsome face lit with a smile that set my teeth on edge. He was young, barely more than a boy, but his station as one of Prince Alaric’s close companions gave him an inflated sense of importance. And he’d been paying far too much attention to Soraya these past days.
“Lord Destan,” she replied, her tone warmly polite. “What a lovely evening for a celebration.”
“Made all the lovelier by your presence,” he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.
My jaw clenched as I swallowed my snarl. But instead of reaching out and snapping his wrist like the vision I saw so clearly in my mind, I stood silently, my face a mask of indifference as I calculated exactly how much force it would take to break each of his fingers individually. My bet was that he was a screamer. Or at least I hoped he was because I would enjoy the symphony of his agony if he dared to touch her again.
“The fireworks will begin shortly,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to my sadistic thoughts. “I’ve secured a perfect viewing spot on the eastern balcony. Would you join me? The view is spectacular.”
Before I could intervene, Soraya smiled that bright, engaging smile of hers. “I’d be delighted.”
I stiffened, but she turned to me with a meaningful look. “Lord Rhyker, I’ll meet you by the fountain after the display. You mentioned you had something to attend to?”
I understood her intent immediately—it was the plan after all. She would remain visible at the celebration while I slipped away to search Lord Cassius’s chambers. I would return before the fireworks ended, and no one would be the wiser. Logical. Strategic.
I hated it.
Hated leaving her.
But it was better than bringing her with and risking her getting caught with me.
“Of course,” I said, my voice carefully neutral. “Enjoy the fireworks, Lady Soraya.”
She hesitated a moment, her eyes searching mine as if trying to read what lay beneath my controlled expression. Then she turned, allowing Lord Destan to escort her away.
I watched them go, a dark, possessive feeling churning in my gut. It was irrational—I knew that. She was playing her role, just as I was playing mine. This was about finding answers, not... whatever this burning sensation in my chest was.
But instead of sneaking off toward my goal, my feet refused to move, my eyes locked onto her like a hawk.
I stood in the shadows of a stone column, watching as Lord Destan led Soraya to the eastern balcony. They joined a small group of nobles already gathered there, champagne flutes in hand, eyesturned expectantly to the sky where bursts of colored light would soon bloom.
I should go. Every wasted moment lessened the time I had to ransack his room and increased my chances of discovery.
But I hadn’t left her side in days, and there was a strange agony in being separated even for a short while. As I stood there trying to will my body to leave her, I saw it—Lord Destan’s arm sliding around Soraya’s waist as he pointed up at a particularly spectacular explosion of silver light. His body leaned closer to hers, his mouth near her ear as he said something that made her laugh.
Something inside me shattered.
A wave of primal, possessive rage crashed through me so violently it nearly stole my breath. My vision narrowed, tunneling until all I could see was his hand on Soraya’s body—mySoraya—his fingers splayed possessively across the curve of her hip. Heat surged through my veins, a murderous darkness I hadn’t felt since the fall of humanity, since I’d watched fae warriors cut down the last of my kind.
Mine.
The thought burned through me with shocking clarity. Not his to touch. Not his to make laugh. Not his to court or seduce or claim.
She wasmine.
Before I was fully conscious of moving, I was cutting through the crowd with lethal purpose, my body a weapon aimed at the man who dared touch what belonged to me. Nobles scattered from my path, sensing the barely leashed violence rolling off me in waves.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Soraya
I smiled at something Lord Destan said, though I couldn’t have repeated his words if my life depended on it. My mind was still reeling from the encounter with Lord Cassius—the man who had plunged a dagger into my chest, who had murdered my mother.
The Realm Walker who may also be... my father.
And he hadn’t recognized me at all.
