RYKER
THREE YEARS AGO
I stood in the courtyard watching the maidens move through their morning routines, half listening to Cole talk about so bullshit patrol assignnt, he walked into the courtyard but I stood still. I didn’t trail after him,
"Are you looking for the next girl you are going to fuck?" a voice said interrupting my thoughts.
I turned around ready to tell whoever had the audacity to speak to like that exactly where they could shove their opinion and froze.
Her red hair caught the sunlight like fire, falling in waves around a face that belonged in paintings or dreams or wherever beautiful things lived when they were not standing in front of making my brain short circuit.
She was probably in her early thirties, not by how she looked because she looked ageless in that way so won did, but by the bold brightness radiating from her eyes. Eyes that had seen things, done things, knew things.
She looked like she had just walked out of a sauna, skin glowing and cheeks flushed, and I found myself smiling before I could stop it.
"Looking at you," I responded, my voice dropping into that register I used when I wanted sothing, "I might want to join you in that line."
She laughed, it sounded hearty. "Co on, I am too old for you."
"Never," I countered, taking a step closer. "I don’t discriminate by age, especially when she is this beautiful and magnificent."
"Aren’t you a charr," she teased.
I looked at her, really looked at her, and sothing nagged at the back of my mind. There was sothing familiar about her that I could not place, like I had seen her face in a dream or a mory that was not quite mine.
"Your stare looks like you are trying to strip naked with your mind," she observed, her mouth quirking into a smirk.
"I am sorry, I don’t an to stare," I admitted, which was a lie because I absolutely ant to stare. "But there is sothing so familiar, like I have seen you before."
She laughed again, that sa heartfelt sound. "Well, maybe your heart recognizes ."
I opened my mouth to respond, to ask what the hell that poetic statent ant, when Victor appeared from nowhere and wrapped his arm around her waist. He kissed her cheek with a familiarity and she kissed him back with a smile etched on her face.
"There you are, Freya" Victor announced, pulling her closer. "I have been looking for you." He glanced at . "I see you have t Ryker."
The woman, Freya apparently, looked at with new interest. "Ryker. One of the Alpha twins I guess."
"The very one," I confird, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut.
"Ryker, this is my fiancée, Freya," Victor declared, his hand possessive on her hip.
Well that’s a bumr plot twist, my brain supplied unhelpfully.
"Fiancée," I repeated, raising my eyebrows at Victor. "Never knew you were even into won, not to talk of engaged."
Victor laughed like I had made the funniest joke. "Well when I saw Freya, I knew she was the one." He paused, his expression that of a love sick puppy I felt like puking because the way a woman had turned one of the strongest warrior I know to a dog before her was sickening.
"I would like to introduce her to your father. We should be holding the mating ceremony in this pack."
"Congratulations," I managed, the word tasting like ash. I felt disgusted by his love for her.
Yes, I know. I am a sadist.
"Let’s go darling," Victor urged, already moving forward.
But sothing made call out after her. "What pack are you from, Freya?"
She stopped and turned back, that mysterious smile still playing at her lips. "Darling, I am not from any pack." She paused for effect. "I am a witch. Of the first order."
The words hit like a flying dagger and I knew, instantly and completely, that she would be trouble.
PRESENT
I looked at my father standing there waiting for an answer and made a decision in half a heartbeat.
"Yes," I lied smoothly, the words coming out as easily as breathing. "I am sure she is dead. She burned to ashes." I paused, adding another layer to the deception.
"We also confird it with the other witches. Her energy died. They had to na another witch to the title of first order."
Alpha Corvin’s face etched into a look I had not seen in a year. Disappointnt and the familiar gaze of grief, like he had been holding onto hope that Freya had sohow survived and I had just crushed it under my boot.
He was still clinging to her mory, still in love with a dead woman who was not even my mother.
That realization made my blood boil but I kept my expression neutral, bored even, like we were discussing the logistics for the Gravemoon pack instead of the ghost that haunted this entire fucked up family.
"Well," my father finally spoke, his voice carefully controlled. "I just wanted to be sure. Don’t want any more unpredictable surprises."
I scoffed. "Yeah right."
He let go of my arm and I resisted the urge to rub where his fingers had dug in. "You should emulate your brother," he continued, like he could not help himself. "Think of settling down. Maybe you will be able to learn responsibility."
He did not wait for a response, just turned and walked out like he had delivered so profound wisdom instead of another piece of bullshit advice I had no intention of following.
The door clicked shut behind him and I moved toward it, ready to get out of this room and away from Rowan’s judgnt.
"Ryker."
I stopped, my hand on the doorknob. "What?"
I turned to look at him, at my perfect responsible brother who was about to marry a woman he did not love because duty mattered more than happiness in his fucked up value system.
"The full moon is coming up soon," Rowan reminded , his voice careful. "We already have a lot to worry about. Let’s not make the mate bond one of those issues."
"In case you don’t know, brother," I drawled, letting all my contempt show, "I love chaos. I don’t run from it, I embrace it." I pulled the door open. "You should too."
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