XI
SILAS
The afternoon sun hangs low over the lake, casting ripples of gold over its dark surface. The water moves in slow, lazy waves, barely disturbed by the occasional gust of wind. There’s a legend that the lake is bottomless.
What I do know is that adherents of The Order used to dispose of corpses in this lake. At night during a full moon, if you listen closely, you can hear The Spirit whispering the names of the women who’ve been laid to rest there.
Beyond the lake, the Scottish countryside stretches out endlessly. There are rolling hills and jagged cliffs rising in the distance. It’s a pleasant reminder of just how isolated we are from the rest of the world—one of the reasons why Augustine is my reprieve.
The benches near the lake have always been ours—secluded enough to talk freely, yet public enough for people to know not to approach us without an explicit invitation. The rest of the school knows better than to linger near us for too long.
I showed Eden a different part of the lake .
At the time, I didn’t consider her important enough to see this.
Maybe some other day.
Max’s girls arrive with our lunches, the group of them moving in careful formation like well-trained pets. They know what we expect—silent service, graceful obedience and whatever seductive thing they can think in hopes of earning a sliver of attention.
One of them, a blonde thing with too-perfect curls, hands me my lunch, her fingers brushing against mine a second longer than necessary. She gives me a shy smile. My face is impassive and I wave her away. She scurries away after the others.
They’re almost out of earshot when we start talking.
“Not your best set,” I say to Max. “I’ve seen prettier.”
Cedric nods. “We trust you to bring us eye candy. Not eye…lemons.”
We laugh, much to Max’s chagrin.
I stretch my legs out, feeling the tension in my muscles ease slightly. Last night was draining, but I wouldn’t change a thing. It brought me more clarity than I could’ve ever imagined—and that’s saying a lot, because I rarely am ever surprised.
“Last night gave me a new perspective,” I say finally, running a hand through my hair. “I’ve never felt so led by the Spirit.”
A reverent silence falls over us, their heads dipping slightly. It’s an unspoken acknowledgement of what we did. The Order is sacred—something greater than all of us. It existed long before we came to Augustine and it will continue long after we leave.
Last night was a privilege .
We were touched by the Spirit, deeper than ever before.
“I woke up feeling different,” Cedric says, rolling his shoulders. “Sharper. Lighter.” He crunches a baby carrot. “I had a vision of my future.”
Max nods. “I had a dream—no, a vision—about my father. I saw myself surpassing him. It wasn’t a hope, or a goal. It was a fact.”
“I saw my future, too,” Alistair murmurs, tapping his fork idly against his plate. “A seat in the House. My own gallery to display my art. Wealth beyond measure. No obstacles.”
Each of them recounts what they saw, their voices hushed with awe.
Me, I had some sort of a dream too. I woke with a conviction unlike any I’d ever felt before. Because when I closed my eyes last night after communing with The Spirit, I saw her— Eden.
She was my wife. Of course, our union saved the Peregrine-Ashford name. Her family’s wealth, connections and status restored what was slipping from my grasp. It cemented my legacy. But that wasn’t what surprised me. After all, that was my plan all along—and I have no doubts in my ability to achieve.
No, what surprised me was how I felt about it all.
I was happy.
It was a kind of happiness I’d never felt before. I’ve felt things close to it. But what I felt in that vision was the kind that fills your chest, that makes your world tilt off its axis in just the right way, the kind that makes you excited to wake up in the morning.
It was foreign, heady and intoxicating.
Now that I’ve felt it, I can’t go back. I have to make her mine as quickly as possible. That’s what The Spirit showed me. My God has promised me Eden, along with happiness—who am I to decline that gift?
It’s more than I wanted. More than I think I deserve. I exhale slowly, glancing up at my friends. They’re watching me. Waiting. I tent my fingers, resting my chin.
“I saw my future, too.” Still waiting. “I was married,” I continue, counting my words, as I know it will shock them. “To Eden.” Intrigue ripples through the group. “But that wasn’t even the craziest part. I was actually happy with her.”
The words feel strange on my tongue. I let it linger, let it soak into the air. If it’s my future, I’ll have to start getting comfortable with it. I’m happily married to Eden.
Cedric whistles low. “Marriage, huh? Never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Lady Eden Lockhart?” Alistair smirks. “Well, Duchess Eden of Surrey.”
Max tilts his head, considering. “She is from one of the wealthiest families in the UK. If we’re talking about destiny, then that makes sense.”
I nod. “It was a divine revelation. The Spirit has made my path clear.”
They listen carefully, taking in my words the way they always do. My authority is absolute. That’s what keeps them close—my conviction, my control, the unwavering certainty that I was meant to lead them.
The Spirit hand picked me. Now, my purpose has extended beyond The Order. It has extended to orchestrating events that will end the way The Spirit has shown me. We eat in silence for a while, preoccupied by our own thoughts.
I picture Eden wearing my ring. We’ll purchase a sprawling estate in the English countryside, where we’ll have a spectacular wedding. Then we’ll live there together. She’ll bear me sons, and a daughter that I will protect fiercely. Her touch will calm the chaos in my mind, she’ll be my closest confidante.
Above all else—I’ll be happy.
This kind of thinking should scare me.
But deep in my gut, I know it’s right, and I won’t let it slip away from me.
“Did Marita deliver my message?” I ask suddenly, looking at Max.
His sister, Marita, is Vivienne’s closest friend—the perfect vessel to relay instructions, since Vivienne just happens to be Eden’s roommate.
Max nods. “Vivienne won’t interfere.”
I smirk, leaning back against the bench. “Good.”
Cedric raises a brow. “Interfere with what , exactly?”
I could brush off the question, keep my motives to my chest.
But I don’t. If The Spirit has ordained it, no man can stand in my way. So I grant them something rare—a glimpse of my certainty. “Vivienne’s interference is an unnecessary obstacle. She’s already sent Eden into a spiral once. I don’t want that to happen again, as she now belongs to me.”
They grow quiet.
Silas Peregrine-Ashford IV does not claim something lightly. When I say something will be, it is. My word is law among them. The Order of The Holy Sacrament was founded on fate. The visions we receive during rituals, the dreams we have after completing them—they are never coincidences. It’s guidance.
“She’s already halfway there,” I add, allowing a smirk to twist my lips. “She wants me. That much is clear. Now, I just need to make her need me. ”
Alistair chuckles. “That shouldn’t be hard for you.”
“No, it won’t be. But I want her devotion.”
“Devotion,” Cedric muses. ‘“Interesting choice of words.”
I lift my gaze, looking at each of them pointedly.
“She’s religious,” I remind them. “She’s deeply devout. She views everything through the lens of morality, of what is right and righteous.” Understanding dawns on them. “It’s like peeling back an onion layer by layer. I have to rewrite her thoughts.”
“Why don’t you just hypnotize her?” Alistair barely looks up from his phone while he sips cranberry juice from a crystal glass.
Max interjects. “Hypnotism can only do so much. Silas needs to make her believe that he’s her only path to salvation. He’d need dozens of sessions to even begin to crack her mind open.”
“Exactly, and even then it’s not guaranteed. I have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Silence stretches between us, thoughtful and heavy.
Then Cedric claps a hand on my shoulder, grinning. “Well, then. I suppose congratulations are in order. Can’t wait to be your best man.”
Alistair raises his drink in mock toast. “To divine intervention.”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Who chose you as his best man?” Max intervenes.
Cedric rolls his eyes. “It’s easy to see that I’m the most obvious choice.”
The late afternoon sun dips a bit lower, casting streaks of amber and crimson through the sky, gilding the world in gold. The smell of damp earth and fallen leaves is in the air. The conversation drifts into slight bickering—who should be my best man—but my mind stays fixed on Eden.
The fact that she texted me this morning when they found Dana Khan, to thank me , is proof that she’s halfway ensnared.
Max interrupts my thoughts. “Speaking of divine intervention…” He turns the screen toward me.
It’s a message from his twin sister, Marita.
Marita:
Vivienne will keep quiet. Eden is obsessed with Silas. Thought he’d want to know.
I figured she was.
But the confirmation sends a rush of satisfaction through me, pooling in my groin. Just the thought of her gets me hard these days—I’ll need release soon.
“She texted me this morning.” I say, my voice casual, though I know it will get their attention.
Cedric leans forward conspiratorially. “What did she say?”
I meet his gaze, smirking slowly. “She thanked me.”
“For what?” Max raises an eyebrow.
“She believes I saved her from the ‘Communion Curse.’ Like I had some God-given insight that made me stop her from going in Dana’s place.”
Dark amusement falls upon us.
It’s almost unbelievable how naive Eden is.
“Oh, that’s good.” Cedric grins.
Alistair chuckles. “God-given insight?”
I nod. “Hey, she’s grateful. That’s all that matters. ”
Max shakes his head, laughing. “I swear, you could convince a nun to abandon her vows if you wanted.”
I give him a wolfish smile. “Who says I haven’t?”
They laugh, but I zoned out of the conversation again. Eden wants to believe in something bigger than herself. She clings to faith like a lifeline and she feels powerless without it. And I will make sure that faith is me.
We hear laughter approaching.
The girls from earlier are coming back to take our empty dishes. The blonde one from before glances at me as she walks past, giving me a coy smile. I barely acknowledge her.
Cedric notices. “Not interested? She’s your type.”
I wave a hand dismissively. “I have other things on my mind.”
“You really are serious about this Eden thing. You’re obsessed.”
I look at him, my smirk fading into something sharper. “I don’t get obsessed, Max. Possessive, possibly. But not obsessed.”
He tilts his head, considering me. “No?”
I hold his gaze for a moment. Then, instead of answering, I turn back toward the lake. He doesn’t push. But I know the truth. I am obsessed.
Yet obsession, when wielded correctly, is just another form of control.
Eventually, I’m alone by the lake.
The water glows under the fading light, a dark mirror reflecting the sky above. I watch the surface, thinking of her. Eden, standing in the chapel, her eyes wide with devotion. Eden, looking up at me, her lips parting in quiet admiration. Eden, believing— truly believing — that I am her salvation.
I smile to myself.
She doesn’t know it yet.
But she is already mine.