Chapter 3

"I'm not spending another minute with you. Take me home!" I declared to Ryker, who, with an infuriating smirk, casually munched his dinner like royalty. His unbothered demeanor didn't surprise me; I knew getting him to take me back to the Church would be a challenge. Realizing I'd likely have to get home on my own, I pushed away from the table and walked out of the restaurant without another word. 

The "Princess" didn't stop me, and for a fleeting moment, I felt a surge of relief—until I reached the door. 

Two formidable figures, a woman and a heavily tattooed, burly man, stood guard, blocking my exit.

When I tried to force my way past them, the woman moved with astonishing speed, effortlessly scooping me up like a handbag. Before I knew it, I was settled back into the chair opposite Ryker. I stared at her, genuinely surprised. I hadn't expected to be picked up and deposited like… an inanimate object.

"Are you just going to keep doing this?" My escape plan thwarted, I turned my attention to the real problem. "And don't you dare ignore me!" I snapped, my patience wearing thin when he continued to act as if I wasn't there.

"Aren't you adorable when you get all worked up?" Ryker smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Stop ignoring me," I repeated, my voice taut.

"You want to go back to the Church?" he asked, finally acknowledging me. I nodded instantly. "Then spend the night with me."

My face drained of all color. Ryker, seeing my reaction, quickly added, "Get your mind out of the gutter; I meant it platonically."

"I-I didn't think of anything else," I stammered, my cheeks flushing crimson. I'll admit, I'd thought the worst, but could anyone blame me? The man was a walking, talking catastrophe, a magnet for trouble.

"Of course, you didn't," Ryker chuckled, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "If you can run out that door within three seconds, I'll take you home." He didn't need to say it twice. I was on my feet and bolting for the exit before the words had fully left his lips.

"Damn," I heard Ryker exclaim as he followed me out. "That was fast. I knew what I was doing when I named you Kitten. You're exactly like them—agile and unpredictable."

"Don't compare me to a cat, and stop following me!" I snapped, the last shred of my composure unraveling.

"A hard pass, Kitten. If I take you out, you're going back home with me," he said, and before I could protest, he scooped me up like a child and settled me onto his motorcycle. I struggled to get down, but he leaned in, his voice a low rumble, "Your struggles are turning me on. If you want to be kissed senseless, keep struggling."

His warning worked wonders. I instantly stilled, snatching the helmet from his enormous hands and silently putting it on.

"You're quite feisty for a Nun," Ryker commented, a remark that only fueled my irritation.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I retorted, staring at him as if he'd suddenly grown two heads. His question genuinely baffled me. Why couldn't a Nun be feisty, especially when faced with a Devil trying to lead her astray from her path to God?

"Aren't you supposed to be… obedient, calm, and composed? You're the complete opposite," Ryker said, patting the seat behind him.

I climbed onto the bike, refusing to dignify his question with an answer. 

Seeing my visibly pissed expression, Ryker pulled on a satisfied grin and revved the engine, driving off. Once we arrived and I dismounted, I paused, looking over my shoulder. 

"To answer your question, if you weren't so rude and pushy, you would have seen my polite side," I stated before turning and walking away.

I heard Ryker's booming laugh echoing behind me as I walked off. I didn't look back, not once, until I was safely shut inside my room. After the long ride, I was exhausted and quickly drifted off to sleep, only to wake up the next day with a burning fever.

I had no will or strength to move a muscle. I just lay there, praying to God that Sister Ophelia would check on me. But it was still the middle of the night, and the chances of anyone entering my room were slim to none. Only a miracle could bring someone to my side, but before that happened, I felt like I would die from the chills and aches wracking my body.

I groaned, turning to my other side, as if tossing around would somehow alleviate the pain. Suddenly, a voice whispered right after I completed my turn, "Are you in pain?" My soul nearly leaped out of my chest.

There he was, a towering silhouette against the faint moonlight filtering through the window. Even in the dimness, his overly tall figure was unmistakable.

"What are you doing here?" I groaned, my voice rough from the fever. Ryker approached the bed, placing something softly on the bedside table. "You haven't had that much physical activity in ages, so I had a feeling you might get sick from exhaustion," he said, fumbling with what looked like a medicine sachet.

He pulled out a pill and, with a gentle nudge, urged me to swallow it with water. I obeyed, my body too weary to even muster the energy to shoo him away. My mouth, however, was still fully functional. "Thank you for the medicine. You can leave now."

Ryker rose and quietly exited the room. A sigh of relief escaped me, but it was short-lived. Just moments later, he reappeared, this time carrying a bowl. He set it on the floor, then produced a cloth from what seemed like thin air, dampened it, and placed it on my forehead. The cool water against my burning skin was pure bliss. My tense muscles relaxed, and I felt myself drifting into a drowsy haze.

As if sensing my unspoken concern, Ryker's voice was a low murmur in the quiet room. "I won't do anything. I'll leave once your fever comes down." I must have been truly delirious to trust the words of a scoundrel like him, but against all odds, he did nothing more than dutifully change the cool cloth on my forehead. As dawn approached, he silently slipped out of the room, leaving me to the quiet comfort of sleep.

When my eyes finally fluttered open again, I felt strangely light, almost as if the raging fever that had consumed me last night was nothing more than a hazy, unpleasant dream. There was no trace of Ryker in the room, which only solidified that fleeting feeling of unreality. Before he'd left, he’d even taken the bowl of water away, leaving behind only the medicine and a few packets of supplements as the sole evidence of his presence.

A prickle of stubborn pride immediately rose within me. I absolutely did not want to feel indebted to him. So, when Sister Ophelia, with her usual gentle demeanor, entered my room for her morning rounds, I quickly extended the supplements to her. “Oh, I, uh, brought these when we were in the city,” I lied smoothly, hoping the fabrication would somehow magically erase the inconvenient truth that he had brought them for me. Sister Ophelia, however, ever practical and kind, gently refused the entire offering. She only took half, leaving the rest with me. “You look like you need them more, dear,” she insisted, a soft smile gracing her lips. Left with no other choice, I reluctantly took the supplements, a heavy sigh escaping my lips each time.

“Ugh, I just know he’s going to rub his ‘greatness’ in my face,” I grumbled to myself, a familiar wave of annoyance washing over me with every supplement I grudgingly swallowed. I could practically hear his smug voice in my head already.

~°~