Chapter 20
Twenty
Iawoke sometime later, the night air still and dark.
Listening to silent beats, I splayed a palm out onto the soft comforter.
My hands shook as I raised them to my shoulder to find the smooth cotton bandage in its place did little to soothe the budding, anxious knot.
The oddity was not lost on me since I had begun living with an immortal who could fix me up.
I replayed the events over in my head and came to the undeniable conclusion.
I’d nearly been killed, and this time, I had to do something.
I threw open the drawer, finding the silver knife and the ash powder. With shaky hands, I tucked the items away, throwing a jacket over the thin nightdress and walked toward the west wing.
The castle was empty, a void that sucked the life out of people, trapping them here to haunt the halls and to house the monster.
It was a stain on the landscape, a terror on lives, and it needed to go.
The shadows behind me told me such, so I limped through the corridor in search of Silas’s bedroom.
He had to be there, and I had no other choice but to catch him off guard.
I had to do it.
I needed to do it.
I didn’t want to.
The girl’s pale hand weakly stretched out to hold Ayla’s plays on repeat in my head. The little girl would be dead in a fortnight.
I waited a hair out in the main corridor to see if Ebony or the other ghost would catch wind of my plan. Out on the stairwell, the cold draft from the raging storm blew across the space. I glanced up to the crumbling hole in the ceiling, snow packing the stone and dusting the granite in white.
The pit of my stomach dropped as I stared at what appeared to be a crime scene. The wind howled against any logic in the collapsed ceiling, and the wood rot permeated the icy chill.
The knife shook in my fist, chest rising and falling with quivering gasps.
I ignored the searing pain in my shoulder and marched forward.
Doors blurred either from the enchantment that bound the castle or from the ghosts.
Ebony and the others would be upset their master was dead, but perhaps then she could move on beyond the living.
It would only cost my heart to ensure the suffering does not continue. He may have saved me, but what of the other innocents in the village? Killing him was the only option to stop this.
I just had to believe it. To stop the continuance of pain—perhaps this is what Cecilia had meant by saving him.
Using the two keys on my belt, I stepped forward into the dark corridor and found myself at the door Silas had promised me it would bring me to.
I poked my head inside the lab to see if he was working, only to find that it was empty.
Moving on, I grew more on edge with each creak and moan.
My heart drummed on overtime. The farther I pressed, the more the castle withered.
The hallways shifted, creating new passages, walls crumbling and rotting into dust, and the floors caked in black soot creaked with my weight.
The smell of rot was incredibly potent. I covered my nose with my sleeve to no avail.
It clung to the living, into the dingy darkness I traveled into.
A ghost popped between walls, floating listlessly without paying much attention.
I nearly knocked back onto the shredded carpet.
I looked back to the stretch of dark corridor.
It filled me with a sense of foreboding.
I stood, shaking off the feeling. I had to see this through if not for me but the little girl eaten alive by the shadows of the castle.
I shuddered a breath, body vibrating as the blade shook.
If I were to run into Silas, I’d be dead.
The hallway ended abruptly to a red door. The door, compared to the rest of the surrounding wood, appeared to be in better condition, smooth and free of the dank rot underfoot. I sent out a silent prayer to anyone who’d listen and grasped the handle, hoping I was right.
Before I lose the nerve to do it.
I gripped the knife, unlocking the door a crack.
Peering through it, I noticed the room was drawn in inky blackness, all except for a small candlelight from the bedside table.
A form laid upon the bed, not moving at all—not even a single hitch from its chest to signal signs of life.
I cautiously entered, my back flat against the wall, shuffling slowly into the space.
Silas’s icy drawn face was still, flickering under the light.
He appeared dead, pale rigor mortis and all.
The four-poster bed was in shambles, the posts collapsed and leaned against the other for support as the fabric draped the bed in shredded cobwebs.
The illumination played off his hair, glowing with every flicker draping over the webs.
His mask sat on the bedside table, leaving his left face bare.
The rest of him was dressed in black, with his hands clasped together onto his stomach.
It struck me. This was as if Silas was dressed for death, and this was his tomb.
A beautifully curated tomb for a beast.
My heart skipped a beat. I prayed to whatever gods were listening that he could not hear it as he laid there blissfully unaware. I mustered any courage that was in my body. The same affirmation propelled me forward to the bed, hovering the stake over his chest—his heart.
The knife shook within my palm, and the surety to do such a task vanished with each line I repeated over in my head.
I need to do this.
I have to do this.
I needed to do this for the little girl, for the people in that town who suffer at his hand. I have to do this for my freedom. The sooner he is dead, the sooner my problems are solved.
The knife trembled in my hand, my own breaths quickening. I forced my arms to drop only to find that they couldn’t. Tears stung my eyes. The tip traced the outer part of his blouse. I only need to press it in, so why couldn’t I?
One little swift movement, and everything would be done with. I can go and live my life—we all can. I can be selfish at something else—not this.
Lower, come on lower, I chanted to myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, throwing my body into the blow to find it still does not want to obey.
The wind howled in my ear. Blinding pain laced my back, reigniting the wound in my shoulder. A hard grip pinned me in place, snapping my wrist nearly in two against the wall. The knife laid on the ground near the bed.
Silas was no longer in the bed. His body was pressed into me, claws digging into my flesh.
Beautifully wild.
The gold flecks of his eyes were gone, replaced by crimson, mouth twisted, baring his fangs. His pink tongue licked my neck in earnest. The flap of his blouse fluttered freely to see the faint marks still fresh to ooze blood onto the wood floor.
Drip. drip. drip.
“Silas.” I shivered, my throat bobbed. “It’s me, Valeria.”
The red in his eyes intensified with the predator finally taking its place. My heart beat wildly in my chest, adrenaline pulsating through me.
I ducked from under him, sweeping past strong arms for the knife. With the cool blade in hand, I turned to face my assailant.
Silas stalked slowly, his wounds bleeding profusely. “Finally, a sweet, delightful treat to sink my teeth into, and you’re here to help me to sate this incredible thirst. What a considerate Little Dove you are.”
Silas’s chilled words crawled against my skin. The man hours earlier was gone, and what was in his stead was Death Incarnate.
He lunged for me, fingers grazing past. Lunge after lunge, I dodged till the cool stones were against my back, and I was out of places to run.
Silas sauntered in close, body tensed as if to restrain himself.
His lips hovered briskly over my neck. Sharp nails pinned me in place with his fangs inches from my vein, which pulsated under the tip of the points.
I used all the might I had and pushed us to the floor, bringing the knife to his neck. “Silas, if you don’t snap out of it, I’ll have no choice but to end you before you end me.” I straddled him, pinning his arms with my legs as he snapped at me.
Silas laughed, cruel and distant. “Just a taste. I promise, just a taste.”
I knocked his head against the hardwood. “Silas, if you have any humanity left, then show me.”
Tears bleared the lack of my senses, falling against the pommel of the knife before silently kissing the monster’s cheek.
Silas blinked, the red in his gaze fading back to their golden hue. He rested a shaky hand upon my thigh, the weight of his action resting heavy. He flickered to the blade and then up to me. “It’s best if you leave while you can. Who knows how long I have left before I am consumed whole.”
I took a few stilling breaths, poised in my duty only I couldn’t.
This man tried to kill me, and I couldn’t.
I dropped the knife, letting it clatter beside me, the shame burning upon my cheeks. Silas reached forward, pinning me in his place and buried his head into the crevice between my neck and my wounded shoulder.
He shuddered. “The thirst is growing, and today, in the woods—I wasn’t strong enough. You were hurt by those things, and all I saw was blood—so much blood.”
Silas shifted his head, teeth brushing against my neck.
“I was so terribly afraid.” Unconsciously, I brushed a hand to his cheek with his hand meeting mine.
“I want these gentle hands, these kind eyes, and this . . .” He kissed my hand solemnly as a prayer.
“I should not want such a thing, but I do, and a monster like me should not want such things.” Silas nuzzled my neck as he rasped, “I’m running out of time. ”
I wrapped my arms around him, defeated, as he was in the turmoil of my own emotions flaring and fluttering. “If you need to drink to heal those wounds, do so. I won’t hold it against you. Show me that you won’t hurt me.”
“And if I can’t restrain myself?” He softly kissed my neck and tenderly brushed aside my hair.