Chapter 33 #2
I force myself to swallow down the ache rising in my throat. “The Veil made the right choice,” I manage. “You earned this.”
I find I mean every word.
Silas deserves this. Not because he’s flawless, because God knows he is not, but because he understands the danger of power better than anyone in this room.
He knows what it can do when held by people who believe love is weakness and violence is order.
And, despite everything, he protects the people he cares about.
Usually without permission. Often with arrogance. Generally while lying about it. But he does it when it’s most important.
I can’t feel bitterness that The Rites chose him.
I never wanted to lead the Veil. Maybe this is the way it was always supposed to go.
Josh made his own choices, and as much as I wish I could change them, they were never mine to undo.
I can blame the Veil for a lot of things, but Josh’s decisions aren’t one of them.
The Veil is not good. I understand that now.
But it’s not inherently evil either.
The Veil simply exists. What it becomes next depends on the people willing to shape it.
Magic has no morality of its own. Fire can murder a woman or reveal the truth.
Water can drown someone or save them. Air can throw a body from a bridge or hold it suspended above death.
Earth can bury or shelter. People alone decide what power becomes.
Van chose monstrosity.
Lucien chose control.
Silas chose sacrifice.
I chose to love.
And that is why I will stay here. Not because I trust the Veil, but because I finally understand what it is. I think with Silas leading it, it could become something beautiful. There’s no limit to what we could do together.
My eyes drift to Silas again, and a grin slowly spreads across my face. Part of me still can’t believe he’s here with me, as though his survival might be temporary, and the flames could return the moment I stop paying attention.
“You’re smiling,” he murmurs. Beneath the exhaustion and soot, something warm and achingly tender softens his expression.
“I’m just happy you’re okay,” I say. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
A cocky half smile pulls at his mouth. “I’m about to lead the most powerful magical society in New England—maybe the world,” he says. “You might want to get used to my ego expanding exponentially.”
“You’re going to become intolerable, aren’t you?”
“Most likely,” he says, a teasing light entering his eyes. His thumb brushes carefully over the bandages wrapped around my wrists, covering the raw welts left by the iron cuffs.
I don’t know what’s next for us. I don’t know what being a Veil member means or whether surviving The Rites is only the beginning of a longer fight. There’s still so much I don’t know, but the last trial made a few things clear.
The Fourth Trial taught me two things:
Silas Blackhollow is every bit as dangerous as everyone warned me. Just never to me.
Love did not make either of us weak. It saved us.
“I was terrified back there,” I say to him. “I can’t stop thinking how I almost lost you.”
His eyes meet mine, and the noise in the chamber seems to recede.
“I know exactly how you feel,” he says, and then his gaze drops to my mouth, his expression turning wicked. “Although after the hellish night we just survived, I’m mostly thinking about how quickly I can get you back to my bedroom.”
The look he gives me nearly undoes me. I glance around the chamber, pretending to inspect the departing members because looking directly at him has suddenly become dangerous for reasons that have nothing to do with magic.
“So what happens now?” I ask. “Do I get a fancy black robe? A mask? Is there a catalog of cool Veil ritual merch I can order online?”
“I’ll get you anything you want, Mercer. Just name it and it’s yours.” His mouth curves upward, amused, and—oh God—that smile. The one he almost never gives anyone else but now gives to me freely. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this man.
“What about knives? Are those included in membership, or do I have to bring my own to meetings?” I ask.
“Arrangements can be made.”
“Good.” I grin. “I’d hate to discover I survived four deadly trials only to be denied the basic benefits package.”
He looks down at our joined hands, then back at me, the teasing quickly falling away as a look of surprised awe fills his face.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, I never thought you could feel the same way,” he says, shifting closer until there’s barely any space left between us, like he needs the contact to keep speaking.
“Tell me I’m not dreaming this. That it isn’t some crazy, smoke-induced hallucination. Tell me this is real—you and me.”
This. Fucking. Man.
He stands there, only hours after nearly dying, newly burdened with the leadership of an ancient magical society, and somehow still offering me the one thing he has fought hardest to withhold his entire life—his heart.
I realize it’s finally time I give him mine.
I’ve spent months refusing to name what I feel for Silas, as though keeping the words locked inside me could somehow make them less true.
But just a few hours ago, I chose him when it mattered most. I gave up everything I came here for rather than let him die.
Maybe my actions have already said what I’ve been too afraid to admit, but it’s time to say it out loud.
“It’s real,” I whisper, a smile trembling at the corner of my mouth.
There is no dramatic swell of music. No lightning crashing outside. No change in the air beyond the candles flickering against the walls.
Just Silas. And me.
Finally telling each other the truth.
He kisses me then. It’s not desperate or consuming.
There’s nothing performative about it, nothing meant for any remaining Veil members in the chamber who might still be watching us.
His hand simply comes to rest lightly against my face, and his mouth touches mine with a tenderness that feels almost impossible from someone capable of so much danger.
A deliberate throat-clearing sounds behind us, mid-kiss.
Silas pulls back slowly, his arms still wrapped possessively around my waist. I turn to find Lucien standing several feet away, watching with an expression that is not quite amusement and not quite disapproval.
“Uncle.” Silas inclines his head.
The single word carries more weight than I understand. Gratitude. Challenge. Forgiveness, perhaps, though neither man seems willing to make it easy on the other.
Lucien studies him for a long moment. “Veil Leader,” he says to Silas. “Well done.”
Silas nods once.
That is all.
For them, it appears to be enough. Something passes between them, subtle but unmistakable.
The tension I have always sensed in their relationship is still there but altered now.
Less like an open wound and more like a scar—something neither of them can erase, though perhaps they’ve finally stopped pretending it does not exist.
“I’m proud of you, Jacqueline,” Lucien says, turning to me.
Without the distance of the altar between us, he looks older than he did during the ceremony. Still as handsome and regal as ever, but tired. As if these past few months have taken a toll on him as well. It is the first truly human thing I have seen in him.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Your father would have been proud of you too.”
My throat tightens. I glance around the chamber, trying to picture my father here. What had this place meant to him? What memories had he made within these walls?
“I wish I’d known him.”
“I wish that too. For both of you.” Lucien’s expression changes, grief crossing his face briefly. “Welcome to the Veil, my dear. We’re honored to have you.”
He gives me a hug then, and it’s a little awkward but also unexpectedly kind.
I wonder how many times he hugged my father like this.
How many victories they celebrated together.
How many losses they mourned. It occurs to me then that there is someone who can tell me about the man I never got to know—stories my mother has never been able to bring herself to share.
Maybe one day, when we’re both ready, I’ll ask him.
A faint smile touches his face as he turns to leave. “Go home, Jacqueline,” he says quietly. “You’ll find what you’ve been searching for.”
“Do you know what he meant?” I ask Silas after Lucien is gone.
“Not a clue.” A grin tugs at his mouth. “Go find out. I have things to deal with here.”
“You were nearly burned alive an hour ago.”
“And now I have a meeting. Official new leadership business, you know.” He gives me a wink. “I’m a very important person now and in high demand.”
I hesitate, almost unwilling to leave him. I have this irrational thought that if I leave this chamber, things will somehow go back to how they were before.
What if I lose him again?
As if he can read the fear in my mind, Silas takes my hand again, his fingers closing reassuringly around mine. “I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”
The words settle between us.
This time, I believe him.