But Ryder Collins? He was my everything and had been for years. He was my ride-or-die—pun applicable if there was one. There wasn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do for the russet-haired man with the baby blue eyes sitting in the front seat of my car. Tall and muscular, the man came across as closed off and anti-social to anyone he met. Reserved and observant. That’s what he really was. Ryder was a descendant of Barachiel. A true empath open to all the shitty feelings going on around him. I didn’t envy it. I was a descendant of Uriel—a wielder of elements. Most specifically I could control the air
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