Page 144 of Facade

We finally made it to the private dock as instructed by Thaddeus. There was a huge ship, large enough to accompany us, the two animals, and a small crew of humans whom Thaddeus said he would trust with his life and that we should too. As if we had a choice.

Brax and Malachai managed to get Ryker below deck into a private cabin. I stayed with Lyra, watching the Eastern Realms’ shore slowly disappear as the sun rose high in the sky. I leaned on the railing, focusing on my erratic heartbeat as adrenaline continued to course through me.

I thought back to my time here. Such a long time, yet no time at all. As if the Fae lands had been a holding place for whatever lies ahead. A purgatory that I’d finally escaped—but were things going to be worse now? With all we still have to face? The Council was still out there, along with three of the Four Sisters, doing their bidding. Not to mention Aiden was still alive, and the Fae King. Even worse, now they knew about Ryker’s powers…

My nails dug into the wood, leaving small gouges as I thought about Ryker.

It felt cliché to be drawn to the male who saved me. Both in the past and present. But something pulled me toward him. Something that I couldn’t explain. As if when I was near him, I’m complete. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. And not in a good way.

Maybe I did have powers coursing through my veins that I had yet to discover, and that’s why I felt drawn to him—our powers calling out to one another. And he felt it too, at the cabin. Maybe that’s all it was for him—fulfilling an ancient, primal need. Nothing more.

Thaddeus truly had thought of everything. There was a healer on board—a lesser Witch named Veda, with exceptional healing powers—who was able to mend us. Ryker's wounds were deeper, so she could only heal part of them. Meaning he still slept.

Lyra claimed she was going to scrounge up some food, but I encouraged her to focus on finding snacks for Shadow and Luna instead, not yet trusting her after the muffin incident.

I’d been giving the animals fresh water when Brax came running up the stairs from below deck.

“Evanee,” he called, breathless. “He’s asking for you.”

I swallowed thickly, dropping the water bucket. My feet dragged, nerves settling in the pit of my stomach until I made it below and stood before his door.

My breaths were unsteady as I softly rapped my knuckles against the wood.

“Come in.”

I eased through. Ryker sat up in bed, shirtless with his midsection wrapped tightly in white bandages. The gouges in his chest had been healed, all of the blood cleaned from him. The band tattooed around his bicep snagged my attention a second before I forced myself to look at his eyes, which he'd cast away from me.

I ground my teeth together.

“Your injuries—” he started.

“I’m fine,” I bit out.

He nodded. I let myself look him over again, only this time I took in his rigid posture, the tick in his jaw—

“Evanee, what we did at the cabin. I can’t—we can’t—”

“It’s fine.” I forced a tight smile. “We were caught up in the moment.” I wanted to vomit at my own words. Throw myself into the sea and just drift back to the enemy lands. That would be easier than standing here and pretending I was okay with what he was going to say. Because I hadn’t been caught up in the moment. I had felt at home.

His eyes finally lifted to meet mine, and I almost buckled under his gaze.

“Yes.”

That’s all he said. Yes. Funny how a small, insignificant word can unravel you. Destroy you.

I turned my back to him as my eyes burned, not wanting him to see the hurt. I wanted to scream out, why? But I knew that wouldn’t make me feel any better.

“Was there something else?” My voice broke, betraying me.

The blankets rustled, but I kept still, folding my arms. His warm hand landed on my shoulder, and I stiffened.

“I’d like for us to be friends. If we can.” His voice was gruff, as if this pained him too.

I swatted at my face and shrugged his hand off, moving to the opposite side of the room near the bed. Not the smartest move—leaving him between me and the door—but I couldn’t stand there, breathing in his scent. It was the cruelest torture.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, head hanging. “I wish I could—”