“It’s one of my many talents.”
“Father’s patience is not infinite.”
“And you think I worry about such trivial things?”
“Fuck off.” The sound of Riordan’s retreating footsteps had Ryker grinning.
Then he set me down on the mattress with such gentle affection that my pulse quickened. “Are you sore, Temptress? Do you want me to run you a bath?”
A small noise of affirmation escaped me, and Ryker snickered before he disappeared inside the bathing chamber. I could hear the taps gurgling to life, and the sound made my eyes flutter closed as the rhythmic splash threatened to pull me under.
I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again, I was being lifted from the bed, the hard outline of Ryker’s body encasing me protectively.
The marble tub overflowed, and the oils Ryker had poured into the water filled the air with the scent of wildflowers and honey. Small rose petals dotted the surface, and the scene was an odd contrast to the endless torment I had endured.
Ryker stepped into the bath, water sloshing over the edge as he lowered us. His touch was almost reverent as he cradled me between his thighs, washing me with slow, deliberate care. He cleaned every bruise he’d left, every mark he’d made, murmuring words of adoration that I was far too gone to appreciate.
I let myself float in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, as I contemplated what I had allowed myself to become.
Ryker finished rinsing my hair before stepping out of the tub to retrieve a towel. He held his hand out to me, helping me out of the bath as he dried me off. Then he wrapped me in a robe and led me back into the bedroom, where he settled me beneath the covers.
He dressed in record time, not bothering to hide the cuts and bruises marring his own skin. My eyes drifted closed again as Ryker rummaged through his drawers in search of something.
A soft click had my eyes springing open, and I peered down, watching as Ryker removed my cuffs.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t murder me, Temptress, but I’m willing to risk it so you can heal yourself.”
It took a minute for my foggy brain to catch up, but when it did, I allowed my magic to flow through me, healing every abrasion on my body as I basked in the warmth of my power radiating within me.
I didn’t have time to truly appreciate the feeling before my magic was cut off. Ryker clicked the locks back into place and slipped the keys into his pocket.
“Sleep, Cadence,” he said against my lips. “I’ll have Scarlette bring you some food.”
With that, he rose to his full height and headed out the door.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Ryker
Riordan was pacing outside the throne room by the time I arrived. His jaw was tight, his boots scraping back and forth along the stone. The grand mahogany doors loomed before us, but my brother wasn’t looking at them. He was glaring at the twoguards who stood ramrod straight on either side as if they might become the next problem he would have to solve.
“About fucking time,” he said the instant he caught sight of me. He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “What business does father have inviting the Seelie into our court?”
“He’s up to something.” I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
“Obviously,” Riordan said with a scoff. “He hates the Seelie more than he hates you and me.” I raised a brow in amusement, causing Riordan to glower at me.
We stood in tense silence, and for a single heartbeat, my brother’s mask fell away, his trembling hands betraying his trepidation.
My palms clenched into fists as I strode toward him.
Riordan flinched when my hands landed on his shoulders. “Whatever we face in there, never let them see, Little Brother.”
Fuck our father for making his own son fearful of him.
I pressed my brow to his, and Riordan sucked in a sharp breath. “No matter how unpredictable he may be, you never have to fear him again. I’d end his miserable life before he got the chance to lay another finger on you.”
If not for my promise to Riordan, I would have taken him from this cursed place the first time I caught our father beating him.
