CHAPTER 21 #2
Silas chuckles, removing his face from my neck. His hand grabs mine, jerking it toward his crotch.
“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he questions as I feel his erection under my hand.
I jerk my hand back, turning on my heel and stomping up the steps. I can hear Silas laughing. The only thing coming to mind is that he is a psychopath—one minute nice and playful, the next angry and homicidal.
I chase after Matitus as he places Abigail on her bed. I trot down the corridor and go into the kitchen, retrieving some leftover soup from the fridge. Matitus walks in while I place it in a pot on the stove.
“Hungry, little one?” he asks, I shake my head.
“No, I’m making it for Abigail,” I tell him, grabbing a tray and a bowl. I sit on the counter, waiting for the pot to heat up. Matitus moves between my legs.
“Thank you for helping Abigail,” I tell him, and he looks away guiltily.
“What?” I ask, confused by his reaction.
“I went to Abigail’s to find her family for Silas,” he says, and I shove him away.
“You were going to help him, and what would you have done if they were home?” I ask, disgusted that he would use her family against her after promising he wouldn’t.
“I wouldn’t have let him hurt them,” he says.
“No, just Abbie, right? Get away from me, Matitus. You’re just as bad as him,” I tell him, getting up and checking the soup. I hear Matitus growl, stalking out.
Pouring the soup into the bowl, I grab a spoon and a bottle of water, walking toward Abigail’s room.
I use my hip to nudge the door open, finding Marian sitting next to her.
Her head is in her hands as she stares down at Abigail worriedly.
Placing the tray on the bedside table, I brush Abigail’s hair from her face.
Her eyes snap open, and Marian looks relieved.
“My Claire,” she whispers, tears in her eyes.
“Claire is fine. I promise I won’t let them harm her.”
“No, Elora, you don’t understand,” she gasps, sitting up.
“Understand what?” I ask, glancing at the door.
“I promise, Abigail, I won’t let them take her from you.”
Abigail goes to say something else, her eyes dart over my shoulder. I feel his presence as I turn around.
Silas is leaning against the doorframe, watching us. I turn back to Abigail, ignoring him.
“Come, Elora, Marian will look after Abigail.”
“I am not going anywhere with you,” I tell him, not even trying to hold the venom from my voice.
Silas snarls, stepping into the room. Abigail’s eyes go wide, and Marian nudges me with her arm. I know Silas is directly behind me. He leans down next to me, daring me to go against him.
“Go, I will stay with her,” Marian says, peering up at Silas nervously.
Leaning over the bed, I kiss Abigail on the cheek.
“I will come back in the morning, I promise,” I tell her, turning around.
Silas steps to the side, motioning to the door with his hand, and I stalk out. I can feel him following behind me, goosebumps rising on my skin. I head toward the office when Silas grips my arm, pulling me to a stop.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Matitus and Dragus are upstairs, dinner is ready. You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” I tell him, shaking his arm off.
Silas crosses his arms over his chest, staring at me, making me groan as I walk past him and up the stairs.
“Good,” Silas mutters and I fight the urge to smack him. Stomping in the bedroom, I see the chain on the floor still attached to the bed. Stopping, Silas walks into me. Turning around, I pull on his pants.
“Little early for that, isn’t it?” he says, a smile on his face.
I roll my eyes, digging through his pocket and finding a little silver key.
Marching over to the bed, I undo the lock attached to the end of the chain holding it to the bed, then pick up the chain.
Trudging to the window, I shove it up, opening it.
Matitus and Dragus watch me with silly grins on their faces.
I look out and see a couple of guards below.
Annoyed, I grab the chain, singing out the window, “Watch your heads!” and throw it out, watching as they quickly sidestep and it lands in the snow.
I hear them growl, they say nothing. Shutting the window, I turn around.
Silas is shaking his head, and Matitus laughs, looking down at the floor.
“What?” I ask, crossing my arms.
Silas steps forward.
“You just threw the key out the window with the chain,” he says.
“So?” I ask.
Silas looks down at my ankle, making me follow his gaze. Argh. I groan, realizing Dragus only broke the chain, not the padlock, and it is still attached to my ankle like an anklet. Great. Now I have to walk all the way down there.
I move toward the door, Silas’s arm wraps around my waist, placing me on the end of the bed.
“And where are you going?”
“To get the damn key,” I tell him.
Silas raises an eyebrow at my tone, grabbing my ankle, making me fall backward at the force. He grips the chain, twisting it, and I scream out as it pinches my skin.
“Stay still,” he says, hooking his finger under enough to get his other finger under it. He quickly yanks it, the chain snapping, sending me flying off the bed and landing on the floor.
I glare up at him, and he wears a smirk.
“Asshole, you didn’t need to yank it like that,” I snap.
Dragus leans over the bed, picks me up, and places me back on it next to him. Silas grabs a cheese cube, sitting on the bed next to me. I shuffle closer to Dragus and lean against him.
“So, you will sit with him, but not me?” Silas asks.
“He didn’t help torture my friend,” I tell him. Dragus hands me something that resembles snot in a shell.
“Try that,” he says.
“What is it?” I ask, looking at it disgustedly.
“An oyster. I promise they taste better than they look.”
I sniff it, placing it in my mouth, nearly throwing up at the texture. Not only did it look like snot, it also felt like snot. I swallow the slimy sucker down, and Dragus offers me another.
“No thanks,” I tell him, pushing his hand away.
He shrugs, eating it. My stomach turns, remembering how slimy it felt going down my throat. I wonder who the hell cracked one of them open and thought it looked good enough to eat. Or were they so hungry they ate the gross-looking thing out of desperation?
Laying down on the bed, Silas, Dragus, and Matitus keep trying to get me to try things. I refuse; I am not hungry. All I can think about is what Abigail said about me not understanding something.
“What’s on your mind?” Silas asks, lying next to me.
I ignore him, keeping my walls up so he doesn’t get in my head. Dragus hops off the bed, putting the tray outside the door on the trolley, walking back in. He climbs onto the bed, pushing my legs apart, resting his head and arms on my lower abdomen while staring up at me.
Silas and Matitus both roll onto their sides, peering at me.
“Can you not stare at me like that? You’re creeping me out,” I tell them, glaring at the ceiling and ignoring them.
Dragus lifts himself, pushing my shirt up and kissing my stomach. I gasp at the sparks, pushing him away.
“Elora, you said you wouldn’t fight against the bond,” Silas warns.
I move, forcing Dragus to hop up, kneeing him in the face.
I hear Silas sigh, Dragus squeezes in beside me.
“How many Fae are alive?” I ask. The room goes completely silent as everyone stops moving.
“Why?” Silas asks.
“I want to know,” I tell him, wondering how many they have come across.
“Besides you?” Silas asks.
“Well, obviously” I mutter.
“Four then,” Silas answers.
“What do you mean only four?” I ask, sitting up and peering over Dragus’s shoulder at him.
“Well Marian, Abigail, and her family.”
Well technically two because they weren’t really Fae, I think to myself.
“You said you have come across them, how can there be only four?”
Silas stares at me and for a second, I think I see guilt flash across his eyes. He presses his lips together.
“You killed every single one you found, didn’t you?”
“Does it matter? It is done now; I can’t change what I already did,” Silas states.
“Can I ask what you have against Witches?” I ask curiously. Silas eyes snap to me, and I can feel Matitus’s eyes boring into my back. Dragus tugs me back down, wrapping his arm across my waist.
“Why do you want to know about Witches?” Dragus asks.
“I don’t, I just want to know why you hate them,” I lie, one thing I liked about having magic was that I could now keep things from them. It was such a struggle to grow up without the ability to lie or always trying to answer without lying and without answering if that makes sense.
“Witches were the ones who helped Blaire find the curse; it was one of their spells,” Silas tells me.
“You blame them for what Fae did?” I ask.
“Yes, they knew what she wanted it for, and they still gave it to her,” Silas says.
Yawning, I ask another. “So, Blaire was my great grandmother, and she cursed you for being her mates?”
“No, she cursed us because I killed her husband,” Silas says with a growl.
“Why?”
“Because she rejected us, Elora. Okay now, drop the subject.”
“So, because she didn’t want to give up her husband for you, you killed her?
” I ask, shocked. That’s horrible. It’s one thing to have a mate, let alone three and to top it off to already have a family with someone else and be expected to just throw them away because some strangers claim to be your mates. “So, what happened to Blaire?”
Silas doesn’t answer, just rolls over, ignoring my question. Yawning, I close my eyes, giving up on getting answers, and I feel Dragus pull the blanket up. Finally, I give into exhaustion.
Tossing and turning all night until something wakes me, heat pulling me from my slumber as I toss the blanket off.