Chapter 16
“Get out,” Silas snaps, looking over his shoulder to the others, letting anger drive his words. “I need to speak with her.”
Oak and Maines stiffen as Warrick and Larkin move almost immediately, reminding me that orders from Silas must be quite standard for them.
“Wait a second,” Maines says, angrily stepping toward Silas and me. “Briar just blacked out from something you pressured her to do, and now you’re kicking us out? Silas, we thought she was dying. I need answers about what the hell just happened.”
Larkin and Warrick halt.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Silas orders.
He pauses and turns his glare back toward me. Shame washes over me, and I clench my jaw, just seconds away from my chest imploding.
“No, Nastronde. We’re not leaving.” Oak shields Maines with his body. Bolts of light flicker around his large frame as anger radiates from him. “And, I suggest you never speak to Maines that way again, either.”
Silas bores his gaze into mine.
“We need answers,” Oak barks. “Now.”
Silas pushes away from the table and turns to face Oak, the challenge evident. Their eyes meet, and they stand face to face as fury leaks from Silas around the room.
Larkin and Warrick hang back, making themselves nearly invisible against the wall.
“I’m not fighting you, Silas,” Oak says. “That wouldn’t end well for anyone; I fucking promise you that.”
A crackle of lightning zaps from Oak’s hands, and Silas moves his gaze down to see the magic building around his friend. Shadows begin to build upon Silas’s back.
“Stop,” Maines orders.
Oak steps back to create distance.
“Do not push us away right now,” Oak grinds out.
I’ve never seen Oak this angry, and Silas pauses for a moment, realizing that fighting him isn’t what we need right now.
Silas exhales sharply, stepping back. "Fine. I’ll give you an answer. Briar was ready to listen to Kalix. She was going to let her take over.”
They all stare at me, their gazes burning into my soul.
I slam my eyes shut, swearing I can still feel the delicate flowers brushing against my legs.
I see Barlowe in the distance, his calm face watching me, and my heart splits in two.
I let out a long, shaky breath. I crack open my eyes, and heavy tears rest on my bottom eyelids, threatening to spill over.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I felt it.” He glares at me, accusation in his stare. “I could feel everything you were experiencing. Barlowe wasn’t real.”
His words strike me like daggers. Maines and Oak look toward us in shock.
“B-Barlowe?” Maines gasps.
“I know he wasn’t real, Silas. Believe me, I fucking know that,” I respond, my voice rising. “But, it was calm, and I wasn’t in pain. I’m tired. I’m so tired of fighting every single fucking day.” My head falls into my hands.
Maines and Oak walk to my side, allowing me to cry momentarily, and give Silas a nasty look.
Silas stands back, and I can see his chest rising and falling quickly.
He’s unbelievably upset with me. He understands that I’m not telling the truth—which keeps the others from panicking—because he’s right. I considered it.
I thought about letting go and living blissfully unaware of the pain, and for a moment, I almost accepted that decision. The guilt hits me.
Silas tilts his head and walks to his bedroom. The door slams shut with a bang, and I don’t chase after him. He needs a moment to process what just happened, as do I.
“Is that true?” Oak asks.
The others wait for my response, and the anticipation fills the room with a thick tension.
“No. I…I wouldn’t do that.”
They nod, but I can sense that no one in this room genuinely believes me. I don’t even believe myself.
Maines pulls me into a tight hug, “Are you alright?”
I shake my head. She knows I’m not okay, physically or mentally.
“Just give him a minute. He’ll be fine, but he needs to calm down.” Maines’s composed words ease my racing heart. “I’m not sure what happened, but you seriously scared him.”
I grab my back, feeling the ache settling in. I glance at Larkin, and his face is still pale as he refuses to meet my stare.
“Your shoulder has almost healed. The tattoo turned out fine, and Larkin did an amazing job,” she continues.
“I can tell that it’s healing on its own, but it’ll be noticeable for a while.
We’ll need something to hide it from Malachi.
” Maines grins over my shoulder. “I can grab you a shawl to bring with you.”
Oak smiles as he leans his hip against the table. “After witnessing that, I’d prefer being haunted over experiencing getting that thing tattooed on my body. No offense, Larkin, but you’re not getting anywhere near me.”
Larkin moves closer to me while I’m still perched on the table. He walks behind me, examining his work. His rough hand grazes the fading ink, causing me to flinch. I hear him exhale, as if relieved that I’m sitting here with them right now.
“It’s healing nicely. You did well, until you didn’t, but right now, your body seems to be reacting well to the poison,” Larkin’s relaxed voice states. “And no offense taken, Oak. You aren’t my type, anyway.”
Oak’s jaw drops. “What? I’m everyone’s type.”
Maines laughs loudly. “Finally, someone is helping me check Oak’s wild ego. Do you know how often I tell him that?"
I glance at Larkin, a gentle smile spreading across my lips. “Did you just make a joke?”
For the first time, he smirks at me. “I do have the ability to be funny.”
“Take note of this, everyone,” Warrick says from across the room. “Larkin makes about one joke a year.”
Larkin’s bright white teeth gleam as he tips his head back, laughing.
“Noted,” Oak says.
“You’re tough,” Larkin says, still studying the tattoo. “In more ways than one. I see why Silas is so fond of you.”
His name makes me flinch.
With the others gathered around me, playfully arguing about Oak’s ridiculous statements, Silas has remained in his room. His door stays shut, and Kalix’s words echo in my mind.
Tether of realms.
I approach the edge of the table, taking my time to stand up. Given what just happened, I can’t imagine rushing anywhere is a good idea. Larkin grabs my arm, helping me stand.
“You okay?” he asks.
I plant my feet on the hard floor, gathering myself before trying to stand on my own. My shoulder continues to throb, and I swear I can feel the poison pulsing through my veins.
“You should go talk to him,” Larkin urges, glancing toward the hallway. “But, you need to be quick. We have to be at the castle soon. Malachi isn’t forgiving of tardiness."
I nod, and Larkin gently pats my back, joining Maines, Oak, and Warrick around the table once more. Their hushed tones tell me precisely who they’re discussing—me.
The hallway before me seems to stretch forever, giving me too much time to doubt myself and overthink what I need to tell Silas.
I know he could sense what I was thinking, an unfortunate part of him being my tether.
We’re deeply connected on a level that others wouldn’t understand.
I know the tattoo worked—Kalix feels more contained than usual, which is a nice relief—but I know it won’t last. That said, I can’t help but think about one particular thing, and it weighs on me as I continue my strides down the narrow hallway.
I don’t think I can hear Rohhit anymore.
I reach Silas’s door, pausing to take a deep breath before knocking.
My fist gently taps against the sturdy wood, and I listen for the sound of feet shuffling, but no sounds greet me.
I crack the door open and peek my head in.
Silas stands at the large bay windows, both of which are open to allow the cold night air to flow through the room.
The thin black drapes move in the breeze, but Silas remains unmoving.
He leans forward, gazing out over the dark sea, and doesn’t turn around as I cross the ample space to join him at the windows.
I walk beside him, resting my hand on his back, but he doesn’t move.
I make a pained face. “I know you’re mad.”
“I am,” Silas bites out. “Is it that obvious?”
He turns his body toward mine, and that’s when I notice it. Blood—my blood—soaked into his clothing. The amount is shocking, and my mouth slightly parts.
“My Gods, Silas.” I reach out to touch his hand.
He pulls his hand out of my reach, and a new invisible pain overwhelms me.
“I know you are lying to the others to keep them calm, but do not lie to me.” He finally meets my gaze, and his eyes are filled with hurt. “I could feel what you were thinking, and I know you wanted to give up.”
I try again to grab his hand, and this time, he lets our hands mold together.
“That’s not the Briar I know.” His green eyes blaze. “You’re the strong one, and I worry that if the others see you give up, all hope is gone. I don’t want to burden you with that, but you need to understand what you mean to them and what you mean to me.”
I gaze out of the open window. The sea below us churns, and with each crashing wave, the sounds thrumming in my chest.
“I never asked for any of this.”
Silas releases my hand and moves his hand around my waist. “I know. None of us did, but it’s what we’ve been dealt.
We can either decide to face this head-on or give up and let the evil win.
” His embrace gets tighter. “It’s time we turn this around and take things into our own hands.
I’ve been afraid, and I can see in your eyes that you have as well.
That fear stops now, and I’m so fucking ready for what’s next. ”
He turns my body toward his and tips my head back, pressing a deep kiss to my lips.
Silas pulls away and cups my face. “The next time you feel like giving up, talk to me, and I’ll give you a thousand reasons to keep going.”
I nuzzle into his hold, and pride shines brightly across my face. Fear has been holding us both back, and we can no longer hide in the shadows of our nightmares. There’s too much at stake to give in now. With all the evil surrounding us, it’s time to show the demons who the feared ones truly are.
I nod. “We need to leave.”
“I should change. As delicious as your blood smells, I don’t think the castle staff would appreciate me tracking it in.” He smiles.
I head for the door as he slips his clothes off, and I hear them slap to the floor with a wet thud. Before I cross the threshold, I turn back to his shirtless body.
“Silas,” I call out.
“Yeah?”
“Did you hear everything Kalix said to me?”
“No.” He gives me a puzzled look. “I could only feel and see you.”
I offer a gentle smile and open the door to leave.
“Why? What did she say?” he asks, concerned.
I open my mouth to speak, but Maines calls from down the hallway, “We need to leave, now.”
“Go ahead. I’m right behind you.” Silas slips into a fresh black shirt, fastening a dagger across his broad chest. “You can tell me later. Malachi won’t wait.”
Every step down the hallway echoes in my chest, but I don’t have time to panic right now. I need to concentrate on my meeting with Malachi, but I can’t.
Silas doesn’t know what he is.
My tether.