Page 27 of Shadows and Stone

We bypass the cluttered "bonus room" and head straight into my bedroom. I kick off my shoes, and collapse onto the edge of the mattress. I swear, I only close my eyes for a few seconds, but the next thing I know, is a shadow falls over me.

I blink my eyes open. Ryker towers over me and I have to fight the dirty thoughts running through my mind.

"Okay," I say, picking up the highlighted script pages and clearing my throat. "Act Two, Scene Four. Context: my character, Prince Jin, is confronting his assigned elite guard—ironic, I know—after discovering the guard has been keeping secrets to protect him. It's supposed to be high angst, building into romantic tension. A focus on high chemistry."

Ryker sits down on the desk chair opposite my bed, turning it around to rest his arms over the backrest. His tail sweeps back and forth, momentarily distracting me.

"Alright,” he says. “Read the prompt. I'll read the Captain’s lines."

"Great. And remember, put some extra emotion into it," I tease. Clearing my throat, I drop into my lower dramatic register. It’s a particular voice I spent years perfecting in drama school.

"'Is this how you protect me? You think you’re some impenetrable shield,'" I read, looking up from the page to lock eyes with him. "You stand in front of me like a wall of iron, taking every blow, hiding every cut and every bruise, all while keeping me in the dark. You protect me and risk yourself, calling it duty. But you never asked what I wanted, Rozz. You never asked if I wanted to fight beside you."

Ryker doesn't look down at the script resting on his knee. He doesn't need to. He’s been watching me practice for days, absorbing every word with that uncanny memory of his.

His deep voice fills the bedroom. “It’s not your place to fight, my lord. It’s my duty to ensure you survive. Even if you hate me for it.”

“I don't hate you!” I snap back, stepping smoothly into Jin’s desperate affection, my voice cracking right on cue. I drop the script onto my lap, leaning forward, my hands resting on my knees. “I hate the distance you put between us. I hate the way you pretend you feel nothing when I look at you. You touch my hand when you hand me my sword, and you tremble, Rozz. Don't lie to me and say it's just honor.”

I wait for Ryker to deliver Rozz's next scripted line. A formal, robotic denial, but he just sits there, frozen.

The room seems to go completely still. Ryker stands up slowly from the desk chair. He towers over me once again, only this time, there’s a primal, wild look in his eyes. Rather than the fear I should probably feel, lust pools low in my gut. My cock jumps.

He takes two slow, deliberate steps forward, stopping right between my knees as I sit on the edge of the bed. He reaches down, clawed fingers gently taking the script from my hands and setting it aside on the nightstand.

"Ryker?" I whisper, slipping out of character. "You didn’t say your line."

"I know."

He kneels down on the floor in front of me, gaze intense. My throat tightens. A seven-foot monster is kneeling before me just so he’s at eye level.

"Ryker..."

"I do tremble," he confesses, his voice rough. “Monster gods, do I fucking tremble.” He reaches up, clawed fingertips lightly brush against my cheekbone. He traces a reverent path down to my jawline. "Every single time I touch you, Teagan. Every time you smile at me. Every fucking time you throw your leg over mine in your sleep. It takes everything in me to not wrap you in my arms."

My heart slams against my chest. "Then why don't you?" I whisper, leaning into his touch. "Why are you fighting it so hard?"

"Because you have everything going for you," Ryker says gently, his thumb smoothing over my lower lip. "You're brilliant. You have a career, a future, fans who adore you. And I'm... a ghost. I don't even know who I am, Teagan. I don't know who I was before I woke up without any memories. You deserve someone complete. Someone whole."

"Don't fucking do that," I snap. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around his wrist, feeling the frantic pulse beating beneath his purple skin. "Don't you dare decide what I deserve. I don't care about your missing past, Ryker. I care about you. The man sitting in front of me. The man who loves to sew, who protects me, who holds me tight and watches over me while I sleep."

Ryker stares at me, his cerulean eyes shining with so much emotion, it takes my breath away.

"Teagan..."

I pill his hand closer to my chest, placing it right over my racing heart. " Stop running from this. From us."

A low, shuddering breath escapes his lips. He nods.

Ryker rises up, cupping the back of my neck with his hand. He pulls me in. And then his lips are on mine.

It’s unlike any kiss I’ve experienced before. Like a desperate built-up of restraint, and longing. I gasp against his mouth, my arms flying up to wrap around neck. My fingers tangle into his shoulder-length black hair. Ryker groans pulling me tightly against his muscular chest.

He’s so fucking large. I’m practically swallowed up by him. His purple wings unfurl automatically, sweeping around the two of us like a dark curtain keeping me safe from the rest of the universe.

He shoves me against the mattress, a tangle of limbs, desperate, needy gasps, and wandering hands. Ryker moves with care, keeping his sharp claws flattened against my skin, as if terrified of hurting me even as his mouth tracks down my jaw to press hot, sensual kisses against the pulse point in my neck.

"You're so beautiful," Ryker breathes, his hands sliding under the hem of my shirt to rest against my bare waist. His touch is hot, his broad palm covering my entire side. “So soft. So beautiful. Teagan…"