Page 135 of Facade

“She isn’t going anywhere!” Aiden snarled as he tried to step toward me.

In the blink of an eye, Ryker transformed. A clawed hand wrapped around his brother’s throat before he drove him into the wall.

A sickening crack echoed.

Aiden shifted to his Gargoyle in response, clawing at Ryker’s hand where blood dripped.

Ryker didn’t flinch.

Instead, a growl tore from Ryker’s throat, deep and menacing as he towered over Aiden.

For the first time, fear flickered in Aiden’s eyes.

“Freesia,” Ryker hissed, not taking his eyes off his brother. “Get her out of here.”

As Freesia looped an arm around me, and I hobbled beside her, I cast one look back at the two brothers. My gut clenched at the choice only Ryker could make—whether his brother lived or died.

40

Ryker

It took every bit of self-control I’d learned over the years not to tear into his fucking throat with my claws. It'd be so easy. The artery throbbed beneath my hand. If I squeezed any tighter, my talon would slice clean through.

But I didn’t.

Couldn’t.

Part of me wanted to. That darker part whispered it’d be justice for what he did to our people. The betrayal. What he did to Evanee. Planned to do to her.

The thought of his hands on her at all made me snarl loud enough that he flinched—my grip tightened.

“Ryker—please—”

Please. Desperate, even for him, to appeal to my mercy. But he did—my grip eased. His brows furrowed, fangs flashing as he fought against me. I could almost smell the hatred and resentment leaking off of him like a noxious gas.

He never wanted for anything. He grew up in the castle with both his mother and our father. And I never felt jealous of him.

The village my mother hid us in helped raise me into the Gargoyle I was today. Everyone, in turn, taught me not just life skills or survival, but core values—honesty, integrity, respect, humility, compassion, love. But when my Father began visiting, and I found out who he was and how my mother had been treated, what my heritage was—I learned of rage.

That rage threatened to seep out now as I stared into our father’s eyes—set in his mother’s face—my control threatened to slip.

“You can have her—when I’m done—” he rasped.

A roar tore from deep within my chest. My fangs were inches from his face, spittle flying. I pulled him away from the wall and slammed him against the ground. Stone cracked from the force. He cried out, his right wing skidding nastily on the decay covering the floor in this cursed dungeon.

A wheezing laugh came out of him with my talons still gripping his throat. Thunderclaps boomed so fiercely that the pebbles on the ground vibrated, the storm echoing my anger.

“Can’t even kill me, can you, brother? You’re soft. So damn soft. Just like Evanee’s—”

Whether the grip I kept on my emotions broke, or something deeper—primal—awakened…

I fucking lost it.

I launched upwards—the ceiling shattered as we tore through it into the storm.

Sleet pelted us, obscuring my view momentarily. He swiped his claws, putting four deep gouges across my chest.

My grip loosened, a roar ripping from me. He shoved me—his wings working wildly as he tried to put distance between us. The blood dribbling down my chest barely registered as I shot after him.