Page 94 of Reaper's Ruin
The rational part of me knew I should be annoyed by Rhyker’s high-handedness—this possessive display, this interruption, this presumption that he had any claim on me at all. I was a modern woman, after all. I’d been raised by a strong mother to reject this kind of caveman behavior.
But that rational part was currently being drowned out by the thrilled, primitive part of my brain that was practically purring at the sight of him standing there, radiating deadly intent, all because another man had touched me.
After days of wondering if our kiss had meant nothing to him, of convincing myself I’d misread his signals, of doubting my own instincts... this was undeniable.
Rhyker wanted me.
And he wasn’t handling it well at all.
As I stepped to his side, his hand immediately found the small of my back, his touch firm and claiming. I shouldn’t have liked it as much as I did.
“What are you doing?” I demanded as he rushed me along and away from the party. “I thought I was supposed to be out there blending while you searched the chambers.”
“You were blending too well,” he growled, still moving purposefully as we reached the hall, leading me deeper into thecastle. The muscles in his jaw were still working, his stride tense and predatory.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not leaving you unattended with these men.” His hand pressed more firmly against my back, drawing me closer to his side. “Do you know what that flower means? The one he was about to give you?”
“No.” I struggled to keep up with his long strides. “What?”
“It’s a courting gift. The first step in a ritual that ends with you in his bed.”
Heat surged through me—partly at the possessive way he said it, partly at the implication I would have tumbled into Lord Destan’s bed without a thought in my head because he’d given me a sparkly flower.
“I can handle handsy guys like Destan,” I said, grabbing his arm, annoyance creeping into my voice. “I’ve been fending off unwanted attention since puberty. I’m not going to spread my legs for some dude in a fancy jacket with a flower. It takes a lot more than that to get me into bed.”
The moment I said those words his strides stuttered. He looked at me, eyes flaring wide before that cold calculation replaced his shock.
“This isn’t your world,” he snapped, the muscles in his arm tensing beneath my fingers. “You don’t know their customs, their expectations. These are royals who don’t back off when rejected. They take what they want. You need to go back to our room and stay there until I’m done searching.”
That did it. My temper flared.
“So that’s your solution? Lock me in our chambers like some damsel who can’t take care of herself?” I planted my feet, refusing to be dragged further. “I’m coming with you.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“This concerns me more than it concerns you,” I countered, lifting my chin defiantly. “It’s my name on that list; my murder we’re investigating. And if you don’t trust me to handle myself out there, then I’m coming with you to the chambers. End of discussion.”
We glared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills. His eyes were storm-dark, swirling with contradictory emotions—anger, frustration, and something deeper, hotter. For a moment I thought he might simply throw me over his shoulder and carry me back to our rooms.
Part of me almost wanted him to try.
“Fine,” he conceded grudgingly. “But you follow my lead. Stay close. Do exactly as I say.”
“Deal.” I nodded, not bothering to hide the triumph in my smile. “Lead the way.”
Together, we moved through the castle, using the cover of the festivities. The corridors were largely deserted, most servants and guards occupied with the celebration. I followed Rhyker’s lead, mimicking his silent footfalls as best I could in my impractical dress.
I was acutely aware of him beside me—the coiled tension in his muscles, the predatory awareness in his movements, the way his eyes constantly scanned for threats. Part of me was still reeling from the encounter with Cassius, still struggling to process that I’d stood face to face with my murderer, but another part of me was fixated on Rhyker’s display of possessiveness.
Just thinking about the thunderous look in his eyes when he’d seen Lord Destan’s hand on my waist sent a thrill through my body that had no business existing in the middle of a dangerous infiltration mission where I felt like I was playing the part in one of the countless spy movies I’d seen.
We reached the royal wing, where Lord Cassius kept his chambers. The hallways here were more heavily guarded, but Rhyker moved with impossible stealth for someone his size. He guided me confidently, as if he’d spent a lifetime moving unseen through hostile territory.
Which, I supposed, he had.
As we approached another corner, he threw his arm out in front of me—a silent command to stop. He tilted his head, listening, then suddenly pulled me into a shadowed alcove as footsteps approached.
