Chapter 41 #2
Cyrus hums in response, then continues, “The people of Daramveer fled when they learned the truth of who lives within you, and today, Silas almost lost Andorwood. Why would I consider joining you when you have nothing to offer me? You two can’t even rule your own kingdoms.”
“We can,” I snap. “And we will.”
Cyrus sounds a sarcastic huff.
“When this is over, you can guarantee that you have safety in Daramveer. You are free to travel to my kingdom as you wish.” I remove the dark green stone from my pocket and set it on the table in front of us.
Cyrus freezes, along with Silas.
“And, I have this.”
The green stone shines in the dim lighting and demands attention. Its beauty surprises me each time, and I swear the table warps under its weight.
“The stone of Andorwood. We are going to gather all the stones from the kingdoms. Once we learn how to control them, or at least this one, you can have it. I’m offering you power.”
Cyrus’s face contorts as he thinks.
“Can I trust you?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He smiles as he takes the cup in his hand and finishes the ale.
“Can I trust you?” I question back.
“You’ll just have to see, won’t you?” A sinister smile spreads across his aged face.
He slams the cup down and stands up. The sudden movement takes me aback, and I notice that Silas is, too.
“Cyrus,” Silas nearly growls.
“I don’t say this often, but meeting you, Miss Blackbyrne, was a pleasure. I most enjoyed our drink together.” Cyrus walks toward the door, placing the cloak back over his head. “We should meet for drinks more often.”
“And your decision?” I question.
His hand pauses before reaching the rusty doorknob. “I have things to discuss with my people before I agree to anything. If we move forward with what you have suggested, you will know. If we decide not to, you will know.” Cyrus flashes a look toward Silas. “Give my regards to Warrick.”
“Cyrus,” I call.
He slowly turns. “What?”
“If you have, in fact, ever loved someone in your life, I think I know who it is.”
His body goes rigid.
“And he also needs your help.”
Cyrus doesn’t turn to meet my words. Instead, he swiftly exits the room, leaving a trail of light behind him. The room's glow dims as his magic moves further away, but the candle continues to burn, casting a shadowy light around us.
Silas sits back in his chair and sips the dark liquid in his cup. “I may need a second drink after that.”
I look at him, taking my cup in hand as well. “I kind of like him.”
Silas laughs. “There is no surprise there. He is almost as big of a smartass as you are, my love.”
I laugh, taking another drink.
“No way are you giving him that stone.” Silas looks at me.
I smirk, unable to hide the pride on my face. “We have an exact duplicate, remember?”
Silas laughs. “He’ll likely kill us on the spot if he finds out.”
“Good thing he won’t. Well, not until we are long gone.”
“This is going to end very badly,” he says, giving me a warning look.
“Then, we’d better come up with a plan once we get to that step.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face,” Silas chuckles.
Silas and I both take drinks of our ale, taking a moment to let our thoughts swirl in our heads.
“I thought that went well,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Oh, it definitely went well, but Cyrus is unpredictable. His choice will come just moments before we need them. He may assist us in a few days, but he can’t be relied upon.”
I take another sip of the ale. “Why doesn’t Warrick speak to his father?”
Silas takes a long breath.
“Warrick is second in command of the Andorwood army. He is a rule follower, loyal, and has always been. How he came from Cyrus Pierce, I’ll never know.
” Silas sets his cup down. “If your father led a group of rebels, would you join him? Even if it went against everything you fought for and believed in?”
“I don’t know,” I respond.
“Their relationship is complicated,” Silas says. “Always has been.”
“And his mother?”
Silas shifts in his chair. “Died shortly after he was born.”
I don’t respond; instead, I think of everything that’s happened.
My heart races, and I feel like it hasn’t slowed since we arrived here.
Nothing about this has been easy, and I fear the challenging parts have yet to arrive.
I enjoy the silence for a moment and continue to sip my drink.
The strong scent of hops fills my nose with each sip, and I think back to us on the ship before we arrived.
The night of my birthday was so normal and fun.
Things have changed significantly since then, but I always knew it would.
“Silas,” I say, as I glance toward him to find he is already staring at me. “You are the king and Commander of the Andorwood army. Why don’t you make them fight? You could do that, you know.”
He exhales. “Yes, I could. But my father forced them to do so many things for years. The pain I see in their eyes haunts me. And yes, I could compel them, but I want my kingdom to stand behind me willingly. I want them to choose to be a united force of chaos. I want them to accept me, and if I force their loyalty and we fail, what future would I have as their king then?”
“They would see you no differently than Malachi,” I whisper.
“Exactly, and that is my biggest fear.” His eyes drop. “So, when the day comes that I must stand and fight against the resurrected, I will do so, even if I stand alone on that pier. I will prove to them that I will protect them or die trying.”
I turn in my chair to face him fully, cupping his strong jaw. “Look at me, Silas.”
I apply pressure, forcing his eyes to find mine.
“You will not be alone on that pier. We will be beside you—we will fight—and when the day comes that peace has filled these lands once more, I will stand beside you until the darkest realms take us.”
He tries to avert his gaze, but I hold firm and continue.
“You, Silas Nastronde, will earn their trust and rule Andorwood as it should always have been. You are destined to be great. The people of Andorwood will bow to you, only with acceptance and grace.”
His hand travels to my face and tucks a fallen strand of hair behind my ears.
“They will bow to you because you are good and deserving.”
“And I will bow only to you, my love.”
Silas’s eyes burn into mine, and he leans forward, planting a soft kiss on my lips. I place both hands on his muscular thighs, running my hands up his legs. Silas pulls away, and his hard stare is replaced with a look of pure darkness.
I slowly stand and walk toward the exit, flicking the lock across the wooden door, and smile. Silas stands, watching me slowly turn to face him once more.
I narrow my eyes and bore my gaze into his.
He smiles. “Those eyes.”
I step closer.
“Those deadly eyes.”
I watch him gaze at me with a desperate hunger.
“Keep up that stare, and I’ll fucking die.”
A devious smile spreads across my face.
“Kipp said he was closing the bar until we left,” I say, closing the final distance between me and Silas.
I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him deeply. My tongue teases the entrance of his mouth, and I smile at his reaction. A low growl leaves his throat, and I pull away, waiting for him to respond.
“Indeed, he did,” Silas responds, and his hands trail up and down my spine, sending a tingle of excitement straight to my core.
“We have some time before we have to head back to the house,” I say, slowly raising my hands to pull him closer.
“Indeed, we do.” His eyes flare.
Silas glances at the table behind us, the surface littered with cups. He looks at me before taking his arm to rake it across the surface, causing the cups to crash to the ground with an echoing clang.
His strong hands wrap around my waist, and he picks me up and sits me on the freshly cleared table.
Silas leans in and kisses my mouth, my jaw, and travels to my neck.
While he works, he slowly begins to undo the bow keeping my shirt together, exposing my collarbone and shoulders.
He plants a kiss there and continues down my chest as my shirt slips to the table.
Silas pauses right above my breasts and steps back to admire my nakedness.
He slowly unclips the sword at his belt, and the metal drops to the ground.
He lifts his shirt over his head, joining me in being topless.
His toned stomach shines in the dim lighting, and the shadows complement each muscular groove of his tan skin.
Silas stalks forward and uses his hips to spread my legs open, allowing his bare chest to mold against mine completely.
He places a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to fuck you right here? On this table?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
His hands slowly glide up my sides and around my breasts, stirring a growing need between my legs.
“Then tell me,” he commands.
I can barely get the words out. “Please.”
“Say it,” he demands.
“Fuck me, Silas. Right now.” I reach for him, desperate for his touch. “On this table.”
Silas Nastronde, King of Andorwood, stands before me and grabs the waistband of my pants.
His shadows ripple from his back, and they spread like black wings in the candlelight.
The room around us seems to pulse as our darkness swirls in tandem.
He slowly lifts me to pull my pants lower, putting my naked body on full display for him.
He studies me like I’m a work of art, then slowly lowers to his knees.
Silas leans in, teasing me with every second of torturous anticipation.
“A king,” he rasps.
I suck in a breath as I feel his warm breath so close to my center.
“Bowing only to his queen.”
He kisses the inside of my thighs, and shocks of electricity move through my body.
I tip my head back and close my eyes, focusing my attention on every single one of his touches.
He uses his hands to spread my legs further, his fingers digging into my thighs, and I use my arms to prop myself further on the wooden table.