Don’t Log Off, Part Three (Terms & Conditions #3)

Silas

Two days of having Eris in our house, and I know I’ll never have it any other way. She’s not the fragile variable we thought she was when we first started watching her.

No.

She’s a fucking accelerant waiting for the perfect moment to set fire to our hearts and walk away.

But I won’t let her go.

I study her from the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the wall as if I’m a casual member of the group.

Like I’m not cataloguing everything from the slope of her jaw when she sets her chin to the way her fingers flex around the water bottle, grip tightening just enough to tell me she’s restraining something.

Or the calculating stare she has when she’s thinking three moves ahead of the room.

There is nothing fortuitous about Eris.

Not the way she handles confrontation or drops truths like blades without bothering to check who bleeds.

Not the way she peels people open just to see what makes them twitch.

We’ve been watching her since the moment she downloaded the HimLock app.

But that was our mistake.

We were watching.

Not seeing.

Now I can’t stop seeing the woman before me and all the pieces of her that are built by design to hide something violent beneath her skin.

I see it now…

She doesn’t flinch when she says she’d rather see her ex stop breathing than keep running. She doesn’t whisper it or soften it with a smile or a joke to dull the edge. It’s flat and certain. A fact, like the sky is blue… Like Eris wants Daniel dead and won’t lose sleep over the method.

And fuck me, I have never wanted anyone more.

“He’s not from here either.”

That’s what she says about Daniel, as well as Callie. And it’s true… Neither of them belongs in the Bay.

But there’s something in Eris’s voice when she says it. Something old.

Territorial.

She belongs here.

Eris was born from Crimson Bay’s rot and regality. A local in a town built on secrets, where the royalty protects key members of their echelon. And we underestimated just how well she knows the rules and plays her part.

I glance down the hall where Jace disappeared moments ago, still carrying tension from the she-devil’s appearance like a live wire crackling in his veins.

Kieran stands near the window, arms crossed, posture loose but eyes sharp.

He’s probably running scenarios, filling in the same information as me while I let my brain reboot.

They’re both alert.

I’m not.

I’m rooted to my spot as all the missing code lines up.

Kieran glances over his shoulder at me. “You good?”

All I can do is nod, but I’m grateful he doesn’t ask why I’ve been standing in the same spot for twenty minutes glaring a hole in the wall while my ears ring.

I’m missing something…

Eris moves past me, phone touching her ear as she hums in response.

I can only imagine she’s talking to Sokolov as she glides barefoot into the kitchen for her forgotten water bottle, wrapped in one of my old shirts like it’s already hers.

She doesn’t look at me, but her shoulder brushes my arm in a barely there touch. An accident by anyone else’s standards.

My lungs lock up.

I log it without meaning to.

Skin warm. Height exactly right to fit against my chest. Gait unhurried. Expression unreadable. Effect on me…

Catastrophic.

She doesn’t apologize or acknowledge it.

She just keeps on walking.

Because she knows…

Eris observes everything around her, even when she appears like she isn’t. She processes it as carefully as we do, but for different reasons.

She absolutely knows what she just did.

And Romily Sokolov?

We’ve dug into Roo too… Enough to understand the flavor of her danger. Daughter of a serial killer. Raised by absence, a feral Russian uncle, and her best friend’s mom. Criminal records sealed. Loyalty that would ruin anyone foolish enough to threaten her people.

Roo comes with a bold warning label.

Eris does not.

She doesn’t announce her presence or posture in a crowd, nor does she need witnesses.

But wherever she is, the room rearranges itself around her.

“Silas,” Kieran says quietly, pulling me out of the spiral. “Are you good?”

I nod once again, sharp and final.

He doesn’t push, though he does give me a curious once-over like he’s checking to see if I’m dying or just dumb. I can see that he wants to ask, and I shake my head as I look away from him toward the wall of monitors.

I need him to stay quiet for a little longer and not question why I’m falling apart at the seams.

Because if he doesn’t, I might tell him the truth.

That I’m not conflicted or worried or afraid of how fast this is happening.

I’m eager.

I’m already planning.

And whatever Eris decides to do about Daniel… Whatever lines she chooses to cross or erase entirely…

I’ll be standing exactly where she needs me.

Not to stop her.

But to make sure she doesn’t have to do it alone.