Chapter 19 - The Questions He Asks
Athena had just sat down on the edge of the bed when there was a knock at the door.
Soft.
Controlled.
Her heart jumped into her throat.
She didn't know why she knew who it was.
She just did.
"Come in," she said quietly.
The door opened.
Silas stepped inside.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Warmer.
Charged.
He closed the door behind him without looking away from her, and Athena realized something strange-
She wasn't afraid.
Nervous.
Aware.
But not afraid.
He stopped a few feet from her.
Close enough that she could see the silver threading through his eyes again in the firelight.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Like they were trying to understand something without words.
Silas spoke first.
"How are you feeling?"
The question caught her off guard.
"I... don't know."
His brow furrowed slightly.
"You slept."
"Yes."
"Did you dream?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No."
Something shifted in his expression at that.
Like that mattered more than she realized.
Silas took a slow step closer.
Her pulse quickened.
He noticed.
Silas took a slow step closer.
Her pulse quickened.
He noticed.
"I need to ask you something," he said.
She nodded.
"Do you remember anything before you were five years old?"
Her breath caught.
That question again.
"No," she whispered. "I never have."
Silas studied her face carefully.
"Do you know why?"
She shook her head.
"My parents adopted me from an orphanage when I was five. They told me I had just appeared there one day. No records. No history. No name tied to me before that."
A strange tightness filled his chest.
"And you never questioned that?"
"I did," she said softly. "But after a while, you stop asking questions when no one has answers."
Silas watched the way her fingers twisted together in her lap.
A nervous habit.
"How long have you had dreams about wolves?" he asked quietly.
Her eyes widened.
"How do you know that?"
"Answer me."
She swallowed.
"As long as I can remember."
Silas exhaled slowly.
Everything Rowan had said was true.
The suppression was deep.
Powerful.
Ancient.
Athena looked at him carefully now.
Her voice softer.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"What are you?"
Silence fell between them.
Silas held her gaze.
He didn't answer.
Because if he did, everything would change.
Instead, he asked another question.
"Do you feel different here?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"How?"
She hesitated, trying to find the words.
"I don't feel... small."
That hit him harder than anything else she had said.
Silas stepped closer without realizing it.
Close enough that she could feel his warmth.
Close enough that her breathing changed.
"I don't feel like I'm pretending to be someone," she continued quietly. "I don't feel like I'm trying to be good enough."
Their eyes locked again.
Something heavy passed between them.
Unspoken.
Magnetic.
Silas's voice lowered.
"That is because you were never meant to be small."