Marcus Ryker Series In Order Novels & Stories

He backed away from me. "I'm sorry. It isn't what..." But it was too late. Ryder moved forward and punched Marcus square in the face. He reeled to the floor and began to bleed from his nose. "I think that should remind you what you are actually here for. Get the job done and get the hell out of here. I will send the money to Derek." Marcus continued to work and Ryder stayed beside me till he was done. I was silent and Ryder's silence made me uncomfortable. In a few minutes, Marcus was done and without a word, he packed his tools and left. I felt my first wave of relief.

Mari diverted her eyes when she took us in, a red tinge heating her cheeks as Ryker spoke up first, “Hello, Mari. Are we all set for tonight?” I was confused about what he was referring to, but Mari did not appear to have the same problem because she redirected her hazel eyes towards his face, replying at once, “Yes, we’re good. Have fun.” She didn’t stick around waiting for a response, making an about-face, and retreating back the way she had come without another word. I attempted to meet Ryker's gaze, but he evidently had other plans in mind as he lugged me up and over his shoulder, already moving in the direction of the front door without giving me any sort of explanation.

you more pain.” “But then on one particular day, I saw you with Eros and I wasn’t sure how but something snapped inside of me.” His jaw clenched so tightly that I could hear his teeth gritting. Ryker closed his eyes briefly and I waited for him. I knew he needed time and that this wasn’t easy. He literally poured his heart out right now and honestly, he could take all the time he needed because I would always be there for him. He only continued once he reopened his eyes. “I wanted to kill him, Xy, and I had never had that urge before. Sure, I was jealous when you were with him or Miles but I was always able to manage my feelings. On that day, it was different. He was just holding your hand

His father staggered backward, blood spilling from his mouth as his stormy gray eyes locked onto Ryker's one last time. “Be strong.” Marcus's voice was barely a whisper. Then he fell. The battlefield vanished, replaced by suffocating darkness. Ryker's breath quickened and suddenly, he was drowning—drowning in his own hopelessness, in the weight of his father's legacy. The sound of The Tyrant's laughter rang in his ears. It was taunting. It was promising that he was next. Ryker woke with a sharp gasp, his body jerking upright. His chest heaved as he sucked in ragged breath, his hands gripping the sweat-dampened sheets. His heart pounded violently against his ribs and for a moment, the line be

“I’m currently staring at Ruin and Blight. Why did he say he’s there?” The mention of my name catches my attention, an icy shiver running down my spine. What’s going on in Las Vegas that involves me? Ryker listens intently, then a low growl rumbles in his throat. “That should have been a tell in itself since Ruin is my most trusted,” he mutters, frustration boiling over. He’s piecing things together, and I can tell it’s not to his liking. “Try silver to see if it does anything to him,” Ryker suggests sharply. His mind is working overtime, strategizing, trying to make sense of the situation. The conversation continues with Ryker receiving updates from Fenriz, his expression growing darker wit

Ryker didn't heed his warning. But before he could enter her chamber, guards securing her door crossed their swords on him. Ryker paused. "Back off," Ryker gritted out, leveling the guards with a fierce glare. The guards felt intimidated by his aura but didn't back down. Ryker had little to no patience. He grabbed the back of their heads and slammed their heads together. A collective gasp echoed as the guards dropped to the ground with a thud. Ryker burst opened the door, stepped over the guard, and walked inside her chamber. The churning in his stomach turned worse.

Marcus's face didn't change but his eyes spoke volumes of concern. "Since I've watched you walk into situations that put you at risk, ma'am," he returned, his tone even. My lips flattened as irritation brewed. "I can take care of myself, Marcus," I said coldly. Marcus nodded and his eyes didn't leave mine. "Yes, ma'am. But Ryker's not a man to be trifled with. He's ruthless." I smiled a calculated, thin line. "That's exactly why I need him," I said, my voice dripping with strategy.

“You think it’s that kind of night?” I nodded once. “It’s becoming that kind of story.” A prospect walked by too close, and I shifted just enough to remind him I had elbows and no patience. He muttered something under his breath and kept moving. Good. I caught sight of Ryker near the bar’s far end, standing like he belonged even when he didn’t technically. He wasn’t drinking. He wasn’t smiling. His eyes were sharp, watching like he’d already mapped three ways out. Rook’s kind of people. Torin’s kind of people. My kind, whether I liked it or not.

"You've been unconscious for four hours." "Marcus?" The question came out as barely more than a whisper. "Retreated back to Silvercrest," Ryker said. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel tension in the set of his shoulders. "His men broke and ran. When he realized he was losing, he pulled back rather than risk capture. He's in his own territory now, which means the next move is the Council's."

The spell is broken by the noise, by the violence. Marcus falters. The blackness in his eyes flickers. "...invite the..." He stops. He blinks, the human confusion rushing back in. "Charlie?" he croaks, his own voice breaking through the possession. The shadows recoil, hissing like steam on hot iron. Ryker roars in frustration. He draws a serrated combat knife from his belt and grabs Marcus by the throat. "Say it!" Ryker screams, pressing the blade to the Alpha’s jugular. "Finish the sentence or I will cut your throat and let the blood speak for you!"