“It was her mother.”
Riordan’s composure fractured in the quiet that followed. He dragged a hand over his mouth, his gaze simmering with something between guilt and disbelief.
I turned away, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. It was always difficult for me to watch my brother battle his demons.
Riordan cleared his throat. “How can you be so sure?”
“Once I learned Cadence was one of the Wraith Borne, it triggered a memory, a flashback, if you will.”
Riordan furrowed his brows as though he was trying to recall every vivid detail of that night.
“Do you remember her face? Her hazelnut hair? And those eyes, fuck, those eyes.”
Riordan’s own eyes widened, shock and terror flicking across his features as he tried to suck in a breath.
“Cadence’s hatred for me has always run deeper than someone merely taken against her will. It was her mother. I’m certain of it.”
“I think you underestimate how much people don’t appreciate having their lives upended,” Riordan muttered.
The sigh that escaped his chest was one of resignation. “Still, I can see it. Honestly, it’s surprising it took me this long to recognize the resemblance.”
The silence that followed was oppressive.
“Tell her the truth. Be honest with her. Give her a chance to lead, Ryker. She just might surprise you.”
“That’s your middle ground?”
Riordan merely shrugged. “Sounds simple, but it’s effective.”
“Doesn’t sound simple at all,” I said, making Riordan chuckle.
My brother closed the distance between us, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I want you to be happy.” His eyes searched mine. “Cadence makes you happy, I see it. You watch her as if she’s the last light in a world full of darkness.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening.
“Keep suffocating her, and you’ll snuff out that light. Then what’s left? A broken woman who can’t stand to look at you.”
I jerked away from his touch, my shadows retreating. “You think I don’t know that? That I can’t see the way she looks at me? Like I’m the monster she cannot escape?”
“Then why —”
“Because dead is dead, Riordan!”
The words tore from my throat before I could stop them. It felt as though a hundred tiny daggers had sliced through my flesh, and I resisted the urge to claw at my skin.
“Hatred I can live with,” I said in a fractured whisper. “Her despising me, cursing my name, plotting my downfall, I’ll endure it all. But I cannot survive her death. I will not.”
Vulnerability didn’t come naturally to me, and the admission lodged itself inside my chest.
My brother’s expression softened, but I couldn’t stand the pity I saw there.
“Tell her the truth,” he implored, but I shook my head and stormed away.
If living without her love was agony, then losing her would be a ruin I’d never return from.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cadence
