Page 62 of In The Dark

“Because he reeks with it. I can smell it,” he says, insinuating that his sense of smell can detect such a thing. “Plus, it’s the way he looks at you. He wants you—he’s infatuated.”

I huff because Silas has always just been there for me late at night. Someone to talk to when I’m lonely. I feel nothing for the human other than the friendly conversation I offer him.

Tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear, I study Rydian a moment longer. He flicks an invisible piece of dust off his cloak and lifts his eyes, meeting my stare.

“You can’t tell just by a look, Rydian.”

“Trust me, I can.”

“How?” I challenge him.

“Because I’m familiar with it, that’s how,” he mumbles and holds my gaze just long enough before walking past me. His boots thud, then crunch against the straw as he peeks out the back, scanning the area from side to side.

“Are you sweet on some lady back in Aurelia?” My tone is taunting, mocking him as he eyes me.

“Something like that,” he mutters, and my stomach drops. I’m unable to stop myself from the stab of jealousy simmering up my spine.Ugh, what is wrong with me? Why did I even ask?

Rydian peeks out the back of the stables again and then gestures for me to follow, like he’s the one who lives at the castle. I roll my eyes, following him out and veering to the right.

We walk a few steps before he disappears into the Veil again once we hit the corner of the stables. I continue forward, looking to my right to find Silas still near the gate, and pretend that I’m headed to my room as usual. I make it to my stairwell, but just as I’m about to ascend the steps, Rydian clears his throat. I halt, my foot halfway raised to the first step when Iturn back around to face nothing but air. Right, because he’s still in the Veil.

With a huff, I peek around the corner to check Silas’s position, tucking myself into the shadows so he doesn’t see me, and drop my voice to a whisper.

“How does this… permission thing work?”

“Orin gave me a few different options when he looked into it,” he says in a way that leaves me to believe he’s not exactly sure it’s going to work.

“You should know how to get in, right?” I ask.

Silence lingers. “I’ve never been invited to Castle Alvonia, so no. Just… grab my hand. Orin mentioned something about a resident letting you in that way, but you need to grant them access by speaking the words.”

“Fine,” I say with a sigh, thrusting my hand into the space where I assume he’s standing. Only a quiet grunt of pain reaches my ears. I blink, tilting my head. “Did I just?—”

“You hit me,” he groans. “Right in my groin.”

My lips twitch, but I somehow manage to maintain my composure.

“Oh,” I say casually, though the corners of my lips threaten to betray me as they begin to quirk up in amusement. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t stand there.”

He mutters something too quiet for me to hear—I’m assuming it was a curse—as I extend my hand out again, higher this time. He grips my hand. I suddenly give him a hard yank, and the ward flares to life. A bright blue glow ripples out as Rydian slams into the invisible barrier with a hard smack.

No access granted.

He groans again, and this time, a quiet chuckle escapes me before I can stop it.

“Really?” he snaps, his whisper sharp. “Do you think this is funny?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle the laughter bubbling up. “It’s a little funny.”

I shrug and then sneak a glance around the corner. Silas still sits just outside the gate, warming his hands over the fire and seemingly oblivious to what’s going at the end of the castle.

“I said you have to grant me access byspeakingit,” Rydian hisses. “You can’t just fling me through the ward like a sack of salt.”

“Alright, alright,” I say calmly, holding my hands up in surrender. “No need to be dramatic.”

His voice drops an octave. “Would you like for me to show you what dramatic looks like when I finally get inside that room, little fawn?”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can’t tell if he’s talking about the ward or something else entirely. My face warms, the double meaning sinking in before I can stop my thoughts from going in a dangerous direction.