Page 77 of Bonded Chaos

“You claim I am your mate, yet you treat me as though I am your whore. You say I am to endure your oppression because it means I am safe, yet you allow threats against me to go unpunished.”

I stood from the bed and began pacing, unable to stay still any longer.

“You’re a coward, Ryker! The terrifying Night Cursed Prince is a coward. Where is the man whose name alone makes people tremble? Because I don’t see him.”

Ryker rounded the bed and gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“No one will touch you, Cadence,” he rumbled. “I protect what’s mine.”

“Have you ever considered that you’re the one I need protection from?”

Ryker’s heated gaze bore into me, and I felt as though my whole body might catch ablaze under his scrutiny.

“I said I’d take care of it, Cadence.”

Ryker leaned in to kiss me, but I turned away. His lips grazed my cheek, and a small blossom of warmth spread across my chest.

I was a godsdamned fool, and if I didn’t harden myself against the effect he had on me, it would cost me my life.

“Wait here for me, Temptress.”

With that, he disappeared, leaving me alone in his cold, empty chambers.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ryker

Fury roiled inside of me as my feet pounded against the marble floors of the palace. Servants and guards alike stepped out of my way, giving me a wide berth when they saw me coming.

I hadn’t even attempted to conceal the wrath that radiated from me.

As I rounded the corner of the hallway that led to Celeste’s wing, I heard high-pitched laughter emanating from behind closed doors.

The telltale sign that Lady Barrington was serving tea.

I hadn’t bothered to announce myself as I pushed the ornate doors wide and stepped into an antechamber filled with the overpowering scent of perfume.

Celeste sat at a small breakfast table, her gown a rich crimson, almost the shade of spilled wine. Her hair was perfectly groomed, with not a stray strand in sight, and her pouty lips were coated in thick paint, the same color as her dress.

She arched a single brow in surprise before placing her teacup on the saucer in front of her.

“Ryker,” she purred. “What an unexpected delight.”

She beamed up at me, her smile as fake as her wide-eyed innocence.

“Leave us,” I barked, not bothering to look at the women surrounding Celeste.

They shuffled nervously in their seats, their eyes darting between me and Celeste, unsure of what to do.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

Celeste nodded sharply, and they leaped from their chairs, almost sprinting for the door.

I kept my gaze trained on Celeste. The memory of Cadence sobbing as she recalled what Celeste had said to her fueled my rage.

Celeste folded her hands in her lap and waited for me to speak. She was the picture of poise and elegance, but I knew the cruelty that lay beneath the surface.

She was a Barrington, after all.

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