Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

“Hannah stayed here a few days a number of years ago. I never had the chance to meet her, as it was before I met Keir,” Anstice said.

Ryker’s rage had emanated from every pore—the dark vengeance in his piercing eyes and the insanity in his screams. I’d stood in the far corner of the laboratory, my trembling hand covering my mouth, eyes wide with horror. When Ryker’s eyes locked on me, he became a crazed, rabid animal.

I’d run, ignoring my husband’s furious order to stop. I’d hid in the sub-basement, crawling in the small space between the fridge and the counter in the kitchen. I huddled into a ball and covered my ears, trying to block out Ryker’s screams.

Roarke was the one who found me hours later. He’d crouched in front of me and held out his hand, not smiling, because Roarke rarely smiled, but there was gentleness in his eyes, gentleness he only showed me.

I took it and he pulled me out, but he didn’t make me leave. Instead, he sat on the floor, propped himself against the fridge, and pulled me between his bent knees so my back was against his chest. Then he wrapped one arm around me and eased my head onto his shoulder while he gently stroked my hair.

He held me like that for a long time, silently, until I finally relaxed.

When he helped me to my feet and took me to my bedroom, he told me he’d upped the sedation on Ryker as soon as Anton left.

I never understood Roarke. He was a CWO, a Grit, and deadly. Everyone at the compound was leery of him and gave him a wide berth. But with me, he was kind.

Anstice’s voice cut through my memory and I jerked my head up to look at her. “Hannah was the love of Ryker’s life. The other half of his soul.” She paused to look at me before continuing. “His angel with one hell of a kick-ass punch, I’m told.” Anstice sighed and closed the laptop. “Ryker loved her more than anything. Now anger eats away at him. I don’t know if he’ll ever recover from the loss. Scars are much more connected to those we love than humans. It’s rare once a Scar finds his or her maite that they separate. It’s too painful to be apart.” She took my hand in hers and squeezed. “I know it must be uncomfortable for you, with him being here, but Ryker would never hold you responsible for—”

“He’s here?” I staggered backward until the backs of my knees hit the couch. Anstice reached for me. “Don’t.” I held up my hand. “Please.”

He was in this house. Ryker was here.

His anguished screams.

His raw horror.

The pained, drug-filled sound of his voice as I was forced to stand beside the table he was strapped to, pretending I was Hannah.

I put my hand over my mouth as my stomach curdled. Air. I needed air. I couldn’t breathe.

I turned and ran for the door.

“Rayne?” Anstice called.

I lost my balance and fell into the wall, my head hit a picture and it crashed to the floor, the glass shattering. I righted and kept going.

It was as if someone had a grip on my lungs and slowly squeezed until I had no breath left.

I had to get out of this place. I couldn’t stay here.





I OPENED THE DOOR to the movie room and Rayne crashed into me. “Whoa, babe.” I wrapped my arm around her trembling body.

What the fuck? I glanced over her shoulder to the shattered glass on the floor then to Anstice and back to Rayne.

I put my hands on her shoulders and gently eased her from my embrace. Fuck, she was pale normally, but she looked even worse now. “What the hell happened?”

“I need to leave,” Rayne murmured, the flats of her palms pushing at my chest. “I have to get out of here.”

“Kilter, maybe we should call Waleron?” Anstice approached.

“No. I will ease her panic,” I said. “She’ll be fine. Go.”

“I don’t think…” I scowled and Anstice stopped. “It had something to do with Ryker being here.”

Anstice hesitated as if she was going to change her mind about leaving me alone with Rayne, but then sighed and brushed by us.

“I want to leave,” Rayne whispered. “Please, I can’t stay here.”

I stroked her hair; the instinct to soothe her too strong to ignore. “You can’t leave. You have no place to go.” Shit, maybe that wasn’t such a soothing thing to say to a woman who felt trapped. I sucked at nice.

But I’d never been one to bullshit, and I wasn’t about to start now, even if the girl needed some bullshit right about now.

“Ryker,” I said. “You avoided touching him when we were in the compound getting the straps off him. Why?” I bent slightly so I could meet her eyes. “What is it, babe?” She tried to escape my arms and I tightened my hold. “Damn it, don’t run from this.”

She went still.