The Ritual

He doesn’t acknowledge me in any way. Doesn’t even blink.

“She was right here.” I go over to the wall where she lay on the floor. “You knocked her out. Then carried me to the bedroom.”

Again, no response.

“Where did she go, Ryat?” I ask him.

“Don’t worry about her,” he finally speaks, pushing off the glass.

“Ryat … she.”

“Blake.” He comes up to me and cups my face. “Don’t worry about it.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

RYAT

I HATED THAT I had to force her hand with the divorce papers. I would never tell her this, but a part of me thought she would sign them. She was mad at me, and the Lords knew that. They wanted to test her, and I couldn’t tell them no. She has to prove her loyalty to me just like I had to prove it to them. So, I said the only things that made me think she’d want to fight me. I needed to make her mad. Blakely likes the fight. I needed her to find her backbone and stand up to me.

After storming out of the house, I drove a mile down the road and pulled over, watching her on my cell with the living room cameras. I can’t even explain how proud of her I was when I watched her throw those papers in the fire with determination. It was more of a I’ll make you love me rather than I love you, but I’ll take it.

Honestly, I’m not sure what I would have done if she had signed them. But I was telling her the truth when I said I’d never let her go. I probably would have thrown them in the fire, burning any evidence of her signature.

After I witnessed her set them on fire, I quit watching and headed to Blackout. I had to meet with Ty. That’s a new issue I have to deal with.

“Ryat,” she whispers nervously. “Tell me.” Her hands come up to my shirt, and she grips the material. “You have no problem making me prove myself to the Lords, but you won’t allow me to prove it to you.”

“You already have,” I say, running my hand through her long, dark hair, feeling how soft it is.

Her face falls, and her eyes drop to the floor. Stepping back from her, I turn to go take a shower when her words stop me. “I knew you didn’t sleep with her.”

Turning, I look at her. “How do you know?”

She takes in a shaky breath. “Because you’re nothing like Matt.”

“You’re right.” I growl, “I’m not.”

Walking over to me, she reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me into her. “Now’s your chance, Ryat. To prove to me just how much you trust me.”

I look away from her, my eyes going to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the backyard and woods, knowing it hides my secrets. “What if you can’t handle it?” I ask, my eyes going back to hers. “You can’t decide to walk away if you see something that you don’t like,” I say honestly. I won’t allow it.

“Who said I was going to leave?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “Wouldn’t you rather have a wife who knows who you really are and chooses to stay than one who pretends you’re someone else?”

Letting out a long breath, I think about her words. She’s right. I’d much rather her know who I am. A Lord is powerful, but he is also alone in a world full of men. Chosen ones only know the sex and parties. Ladies know more, but still very little. Most prefer to be in the dark, though. My father has never hid who he is from my mother, but I’ve seen her leave the room, refusing to listen in on a conversation he was having with someone else. I don’t fault her for it. Some just don’t care to know what kind of evil walks the earth.

Cindy would have been the same way—wanted to be in the dark. All she would have cared about was the power and the lifestyle that my fortune could have provided for us. That’s why I didn’t want her.

But Blake? I like that she wants to be a part of my world. Even though I’ll never allow her to get too close. I can’t risk her life, but I can share mine with her.

Making up my mind, I nod. “Okay.”

Her face lights up, and she bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling but fails.

“But …” I add. “If at any point, I think you can’t handle it, I get to pull you back.”

“That’s—”

“The deal.” I interrupt her before she can finish that argument.

Rolling her eyes, she says. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

“Come on,” I say, pulling her out the sliding glass door and walking down the steps.

“Ryat, it’s pitch black out there,” she whispers like someone will hear us. The closest neighbor is three miles away.