“You thought you could lay a finger on my wife.” Ryker’s voice trembled with his fury as he glared down at his father. “MY WIFE!”
It took me a heartbeat too long to understand what had happened. The King’s hatred of me had driven him to strike, even if it meant incurring the wrath of his eldest son. He’d tried to cut me down amidst the chaos of the battle, but Ryker had intervened, and now his father was fighting for his life with every ragged inhale.
The surrounding guards gripped their swords, but one look from Ryker made them retreat. They knew what the King had yet to comprehend: his reign was over.
“She —” his words fell away as he coughed again, spittle flying from his mouth and staining his lips crimson.
“She, what, Father?” Despite his earlier outburst, Ryker spoke with an unnerving calm; the quiet menace made the hairs on my neck bristle.
“She… ruined… everything,” he said between gasping breaths.
“Oh, you mean your plans to leash me, to keep me in line?”
“Her… father —”
“I know exactly who her father is,” Ryker growled. “If that’s your attempt to pit me against her, you’ve grossly miscalculated the weight of your secrets.” Ryker dropped to his knee, his face a mere inch from his father’s. “And don’t delude yourself, Father. Any influence you exerted over me died the second your hands fell on my brother. You may have forgotten our childhood, but I never will.”
“Son,” he said, his tone desperate. “I am your father, your king. Fetch the healers, and once I am recovered, we can talk about this, man to man. Or do you intend to let me bleed out on the ground?”
“No.” Ryker tossed his sword to his father as he rose from the floor. “I’m going to kill you on your feet. Now get up.”
I saw the exact moment he realized there was no swaying Ryker. His eyes narrowed, and his upper lip curled as he glared in my direction. “All this for a Wraith Borne whore?”
“I warned you,” Ryker said, his palm wrapping around the dagger at his hip and pulling it free. “I told you if you sent men after my wife again, I’d rip your throat out.”
The King staggered to his feet as he gripped Ryker’s sword.
“I don’t make idle threats.”
The King stared at Ryker, his knuckles white on the hilt of his blade. He looked smaller now, less like a ruler and more like cornered prey.
Ryker tossed his weapon from hand to hand as if daring his father to make the first move.
The King lunged, his feet dragging, but his blade was steady in his grip. Ryker raised his dagger, and the sound of steel clashing echoed off the stone walls. The King swung again, frantic and animalistic. But Ryker met him blow for blow, baring his teeth.
“You were both so weak,” his father hissed. “You, because you cared too much for your brother, and him,” he said, raising hischin in Riordan’s direction, “because his mother coddled him too much.”
A dark chuckle rumbled up Ryker’s throat. “We weren’t the weak ones, Father, you were. You tried to break us, but you only made us stronger.”
The King snarled as he sprang forward. Blood gushed from his wound, and a crimson river flowed behind him with every step. He swung his sword at Ryker’s head, but Ryker ducked, dragging his dagger across the King’s side.
He howled in pain, clutching the fresh injury as blood poured through his fingers.
Ryker tilted his head, examining his father. “What, no witty taunt to break my spirit?”
The King’s mouth twisted, and I could see the hatred in his eyes.
For his own son.
“You’re nothing without me,” he said.
Ryker grinned. “Then this will be a mercy, won’t it? You won’t be around to see me fail.”
They circled one another, and Ryker’s wings exploded from his back, flexing behind him. There was something beautiful about the way he didn’t bother hiding the monster beneath his skin.
The King slashed his blade at Ryker’s chest, but he batted it aside as if it were nothing. The next attack was slower, less coordinated. Ryker let him get close, then drove his dagger into the King’s stomach, twisting it hard. Blood frothed at the corners of his mouth, and his breath came in short, wet gasps.
Ryker leaned into his father’s space as he pressed his lips to the shell of his ear. “All hail our illustrious King,” he said before he sank his teeth into his throat, tearing it free.
