Page 16 of Female Fantasy
In New York City.
Only one hundred and fifty miles away.
Would it be crazy to…?
No.
I can’t possibly try to meet him.
That would be crazy.
Right?
Look, I’m not an idiot. I fully understand that Ryan Mare and Ryke arenotone and the same. I mean, the latter is more fish than man, for fuck’s sake! And nothing drives me further up the wall than when people, especially straight, cisgender white men, act like romance readers can’t differentiate between reality and fiction. It’s beyond condescending and totally misogynistic—we all know they only say this because women are the main consumers of the genre. Like, wouldthose same men accuse thriller-lovers of being more likely to murder their friends and family? Probably not. Not to mention the double standard: Tons of fantasy and sci-fi franchises with majority-male audiences feature incredibly graphic sex, but no one is accusing fans of George R. R. Martin of being brainwashed, you know? There’s nothing more frustrating than having to constantly defend the merits of romance to naysayers. Women, especially marginalized women, deserve more credit. Period. We’re not frivolous anddelusional.
I brush off a buried memory from the past, of Nico muttering that word with a finger to my temple.
But there’s this nagging voice in the back of my head.
One that whispers,What if you and Ryan Mare are star-crossed lovers?
What if everything is happening for a reason?
What if my past with Sam, with Nico, with Kyle, the doubt that led me to pick upATOSAS, was all an elaborate way for destiny to lead me to meet my soul mate, Ryan?
What if we are truly fated?
In that case,notpursuing this, strictly for the plot, would be like depriving us both of a chance at happiness.
And the truth is, I’m tired of meeting up with the boys on dating apps. Of dating like I’m training for an Iron Man. I’m ready to meet The One, and I need a sign to keep me from giving up.
What if this is my sign?
I shut my laptop and get to work. For the first time since I left Ends Whale Books with my copy ofA Tale of Salt Water &Secretsin tow, I make a decision that I’m positive is going to change the course of my life.
It’s time to go get my man.
“We are here.”
My eyes fly open, and I’m greeted by a thick blanket of darkness, swirling layers of shadow and brine. I gasp for air, then come to the realization that I can breathe the atmosphere freely, just as I did on land.
I can barely make out the shape of Ryke’s body beside me.
We are in some sort of stone quarters, a bare-bones room collecting dust and decay. And the darkness—that murky, dull depth—is not, as I first believed, an absence of light. No, the blackness is its own entity.
And when you listen carefully, you can hear it hum. A heavy baritone.
The ocean floor. The end of all life, all creation. A great wall where neither the sun nor the moon can break down its defenses. The fortress of the sea.
A false door.
“I have brought you to a cavern wedged between your world and mine,” Ryke explains, his amber eyes the only source of luminance in the grotto. “You are essentially in what your kind would call the crust of the Earth but what mine would rightfully identify as a false bottom. This tunnel blocks out all outside light and sound. It exists somewhere between time and space. You are safe here, little minnow.”
He points out into the abyss, into the darkness.
“But if we travel past these hallowed walls, into Atlantia, you will be introduced to a reality your kind was never meant to know exists. The sirens are looking for us. They will hunt you down with a harrowing precision. But in Atlantia, we will have aid. Protection. You will no longer be alone.”
My ribs tighten around my heart at his final words.
