14. Chapter 13
He wasn’t sure why he had come to the party.
A part of him thought if he spent time with Callum, then he’d determine if he was a spy for his father.
That was easily discernible within the first fifteen minutes of getting there when Callum laid eyes on a curvy brunette at the bar and promptly abandoned Ezra for the rest of the night.
Now he leaned against the honey oak banister of the balcony, nursing a whiskey and ginger ale in a red plastic cup, and watching the people below.
The ballroom itself was quite large, taking nearly half of the third and fourth floors in Belarune, and true to Glamour-based magic, the room was enchanted to make everything inside appear as an illusion.
He was unsure whether it was cast on the room itself, or only the entrance, but as soon as he stepped through the magic, he was no longer wearing his maroon sweater and brown pants.
Instead, it dressed him in baggy jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and—much to his dismay—an unbuttoned blue-and-white plaid shirt.
He tossed that straight into a potted plant as soon as he realized it was on him.
Everyone around him was dressed in casual clothes to fit the decor of a wild house party.
There were several tapped kegs around the room, abandoned plastic cups, and various patterned couches that had seen better days.
People danced on the floor below on the first level, with the DJ booth at the front, which was the only machinery on some folding tables.
The simple setup didn’t stop the music from echoing from every corner of the room, though he was sure magic was used to boost the sound.
Everyone was having fun and letting loose after the first week of classes.
Everyone except for him, because he had to look out for whoever his father tasked with keeping an eye on him.
They’d likely be in this room right now.
A single-framed door off to the side of the dance floor swung open, and the drink slipped from his hands when he saw who walked in.
The same cold, tingling sensation from the other day swept over him.
“Hey!” someone shouted from below, but he didn’t care enough to tear his gaze away.
It was him. Silas. Ezra’s heart thudded as he watched Silas cross the room.
His pale blond hair was brushed back, except for the singular lock of hair that always curled over his forehead.
He wore a simple black button-up and slacks—how unsurprising.
Ezra chewed at his lip all the same as he observed Silas strolling around the room.
Should he approach Silas? Would he even want to speak to Ezra after everything that happened between their families? He rapped his knuckles against the banister, the nerves that bubbled in his chest pouring out.
Silas’s head spun, his focus shifting right to where the whiskey had spilled.
He tilted his head, and the familiar, almost pitch-black gaze met Ezra’s.
His brows rose, and his lips parted ever so slightly, as if he were just as surprised that they were finally in the same room again after so long.
Ezra waved once, unsure of what else to do, and Silas only rolled his eyes.
Ezra snorted, his mind flashing back to his run-ins with the beautiful—and feisty—woman, Ivy.
He knew he couldn’t allow her to get close.
At least he had a few moments to remember.
By the time he shook himself back to the present, Silas had disappeared.
But in the corner of his eye, a spot of black was getting closer.
“Why are you here?” Silas asked, his soft voice low.
“I could ask you the same.” Ezra tilted his head and grinned as he took in Silas’s form. Still a little more slender than himself, though Silas’s biceps and chest were straining lightly beneath the shirt.
“I’m a student here.” He placed his hands gently on the banister. “Have been for the past two years.”
Ezra stiffened. “So this is where you’ve been this whole time?”
“Not the entire time, Ezra,” Silas said, his jaw clenching for a moment. “It has been over two and a half years since you framed my father for the crimes he did not commit.”
“I—” he cut himself off, his head hanging low. What could he say against that? It was the truth. He framed Silas’s father for a murder his own father committed. All because he was told to. Just as he was told to come to Arcania to cover more of his father’s misdeeds.
“We all have our roles to play,” Silas muttered. “You know I understand more than most.”
Ezra shook his head. He didn’t get how Silas could be so…
frozen about it. Maybe that was always what drew him in.
Where Ezra would let his emotions get the better of him, Silas remained level-headed.
There were only a few times when Silas lost control, and each time Silas retreated into the dark to be alone.
“I am assuming your being here means you’ve been assigned a task from Haverick?”
“Well, you know I was never the most studious.”
Silas chuckled, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. “I always believed you to be a fine student. It’s only that your interests weren’t always aligned with academia.”
Ezra smiled, brushing his hand through his curls as he turned to face Silas. He didn’t miss the way Silas’s gaze slid over him, no matter how subtle it was to others. They’d been stealing glances across the room like that for years.
“I suppose I was preoccupied with things other than books.”
“Regardless, I believe your particular skills have been sorely missed.” Silas’s thumb tapped against the banister. Three times. Their old signal. Then he pushed himself away from the railing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.”
Ezra watched as he walked away, turning back to lean against the railing again. Silas strolled along the balcony until he reached the other side and slid behind a single-frame door, similar to the one on the floor below. He chewed his bottom lip as he waited for enough time to pass.
After five minutes of waiting, he made his way through the same door.
He closed it quietly behind him as he entered a narrow hallway.
There were only three directions to go: straight through the next door, to the right a few feet ahead which had a red exit sign hanging above the wooden arch, or to the left a foot after that.
A curl of black shadow slithered from the exit.
Ezra slipped around the corner where the top of a stairwell was cloaked in black.
The shadow curled around his ankles, his legs, and his waist until darkness engulfed him. He smiled softly at the old game they used to play. God, he missed this. Missed him. He knew Silas lingered somewhere, hiding somewhere in the shadows, but he couldn’t pinpoint where yet.
“I thought you would still hate me,” he murmured, stepping further inside.
“Maybe I do,” Silas said from behind him.
Ezra spun around to see Silas leaning against the wall with his arms locked across his chest and a sly grin on his face.
Silas shrugged. “Or maybe I don’t.”
Ezra moved to stand in front of Silas, placing one hand flat against the wall by his shoulder.
The familiar scent of wood smoke and sea salt wrapped around him.
Being this close, he could see the faint dust of freckles on Silas’s nose, and he exhaled slowly as he watched the crossed arms fall.
Ezra dipped his head low enough for his lips to graze Silas’s ear.
“And do you hate me right now?” Ezra whispered.
Silas sighed. “Not enough to stop you from kissing me.”
He pulled back, just enough for the tip of his nose to graze Silas’s cheekbone until his lips captured the ones he’d been missing for so long. As Silas’s hands grasped Ezra’s hips, he cupped Silas’s cheek, his thumb caressing the sharply cut jaw.
Silas gasped into their kiss as Ezra pressed their hips together.
Ezra groaned, tipping Silas’s head to deepen their kiss, as his cock hardened under the pressure of their bodies meeting each other once again.
A memory flashed behind his closed eyes—the two of them, tangled together in the sheets of a luxurious hotel they had met at once.
The quiet moans Silas made beneath him that night spurred him to reach for Silas’s belt and tug.
It slowly transformed into another—both of them, dressed in fine tuxedos, standing off to the side at one of his father’s galas. It was the first night Silas had snuck into Ezra’s room, and the first time they had more than some cursory moments to explore each other.
Before he could stay too long in the memory, it changed again.
Now it was the last morning they’d spent together, one of the few where they’d slept in the same bed.
The rising sun cast its light across their bare limbs wrapped around each other.
He could almost feel Silas’s soft exhales on his chest. Later that day, Silas’s father was taken away in handcuffs, and he didn’t need to delve deeper into the memory to remember the betrayal etched in Silas’s face when it happened.
The image slipped away. Transforming into a darker one.
One without Silas. Where the only thing was the sliver of light filtering in through a basement window.
Ezra’s brows knitted together as he tried to pull himself out of the memories and return to the present.
But it wasn’t him controlling it. At the edges of his mind, magic toyed with his memories.
Bile threatened to rise, and he pushed himself away from Silas, his breathing heavy and his hands clenched at his sides.
His gaze fell to the floor as his back hit the opposite wall.
“Get out of my head,” Ezra said, his voice low. His attention returned to Silas, whose lips were parted slightly and brows were curled in confusion.
“What happ—”
“Just stay out of it, Silas,” he snapped. “Better yet, leave me alone.”