Page 94 of Facade

She stared at me blankly. “What fog?”

“The fog… There was this weird fog. And a metallic taste in the air… That wasn’t you?”

“No,” she shook her head slowly. “Ryker said it was safer—and easier—to go alone.” Her brows drew together.

The blood drained from my face.

“You mean they weren’t in a magically induced sleep?” I rasped.

Ryker raised a brow. “What made you think they were?” He grabbed a black tunic from a cart, pulling it over his head.

“The fog—it came from nowhere.” I blinked, the realization of how dangerous and bad that could have been settling in me like stones. Aiden hadn’t even been there. Had he caught what was happening…

“I don’t know about fog, but I slipped something into the drinks that were being gathered at the pub. But there was no guarantee they'd all drink what I tampered with.” He shrugged.

“What if I had drunk it?!”

“Then you would've woken up here and missed the beauty of the flight.” A mischievous smile spread, revealing the sharp points of his canines.

A raw, unrestrained growl tore from my throat—and he laughed.

Aniah quickly stepped between us, shooting him a reproachful glare before turning to me, hands raised as if she were approaching a rabid beast.

“Regardless, you made it here. We can’t stay long, but we’ll be safe for the night.” She smiled warmly before she went back into the little cabin.

“It’s good to see you like this,” Ryker said as he moved to pass me.

“What, feral?” I snapped.

“Free.”

The word hit harder than it should have. Anger drained from my body in an instant, leaving behind something unsteady and exposed. It was clear he didn’t mean free from servitude. Those cunning eyes cut deeper—he saw the real me. The restraint, doubt, and fear that had tried to smother the strength I had, even with my memories gone. The Fae—Aiden—tried to take the fight out of me. Make me into something I wasn’t. Ryker could see it. It made me wonder if that’s why he poked at me, trying to get any response he could. To wake up the side of me that had been chained and silenced.

I hated that he could see how trapped I was. That such a small word could unravel me. He saw more than I wanted him to.

I quietly followed as he moved past me, holding the cabin door open.

The interior was decrepit.

The smell hit my newly improved senses first—mold and rot, sharp with an undercurrent of wet wood. Dust covered the small table and two chairs by a foggy four-paneled window to the right. My stomach tightened as a rat scurried across the single-burner stove. Down the burner it went to its nest of random scraps below. The rat’s wiry whiskers twitched as it stuck its head through the crack of the cast-iron door, then squeaked, disappearing once more.

The bed in the furthest corner had nothing except a tattered, white, goose-feathered mattress missing half the feathers by the look of it, with a very dark stain near the head. One breath told me the dark stain was dried blood, its iron scent crawling up my nose.

The door slammed shut, making me flinch, and Ryker pulled a large wooden board down into the slot as a barricade.

“Should be secluded enough,” he mumbled to Aniah, then his bright gaze landed on mine.

My pulse leaped—not from fear, but a deep burning realization that I didn’t have anything to be afraid of here. I took several deep breaths as Ryker slowly walked toward me—it’s done. I escaped. I wasn’t a prisoner anymore. But my mind still warred with itself, over Aiden.

My betrothed.

I should've trusted him.

I hadn’t.

Something deep within me had told me I couldn’t. Why? Why hadn’t he told me who he was? Why would he want me to forget? I could've told him about Ryker and Aniah. Their plans, but I didn’t. I was eager to escape.

Air wouldn’t fill my lungs fast enough as Ryker moved into my line of sight, those predatory eyes filled with concern.