Page 20 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Twenty

LENA

T here were hundreds of people crammed in the dark tent. How the hell was I going to find Roland?

When I was with him, Silas didn’t even cross my mind. I could move on; I just needed to keep my distance. Dancing together in a dim, sex-crazed tent was a poor choice.

Gods…the feeling of his fingertips brushing my thighs still had my electricity buzzing. I knew he didn’t have magic, but did my touch affect him similarly? Or was I pathetic for craving him this much?

I was stopped in my tracks by Leroy, whose worried gaze trailed over me. “Everything alright?”

His long, golden hair was loose, and with the low light, I couldn’t be certain, but I believed his attire was light blue.

“Yes. Sorry.” I flushed, running my hand through my curls. “I just can’t find Roland anywhere. ”

“Ah, I saw him not too long ago with a few of your other friends.” His eyes scanned the crowd. “I’m sure they’re here somewhere.” After looking for a moment more, he turned to me. “How are you enjoying the place?”

My heartbeat calmed, and I was thankful to be directing my thoughts elsewhere. “It’s incredible. How did you manage to build this under the ground?”

Leroy smiled, guiding us over to the bar, where he picked up a drink for himself. It seemed the bartender already knew his order. “When Forsmont was built centuries ago, the founders decided to make an underground escape in the event the kingdom got overrun.” He sipped what appeared to be whiskey. “We actually have this place stocked, should we ever need to hide down here. No one but the 'royals' know there is an exit passage. They just know of the main area.”

I raised a brow. “Yet you told me?”

Leroy gave me a half-smile, rotating the amber liquid in his hand. “Your seer told me of you.”

My eyes flared, my head pulling back. “What did you say?”

“Igon Natarion. He stopped in Forsmont a few months ago, telling me about a woman named Lena Daelyra. How she would be replacing him.” His eyes fell on his drink. “I didn’t realize he’d meant he would be dying.”

“Wait.” I shook my head, eyebrows scrunching together. “Igon knew of you? Knew Warlocks ruled Forsmont?”

“Apparently so. We’d never heard of Ames before; you guys had done a great job staying secluded to yourselves. His gift must be how he knew of us.”

“He didn’t mention the Undead, did he? What else did he tell you? ”

Leroy finished his glass, setting it on the bar top. “No mention of the Undead, no.” His blue eyes settled on mine, arms crossing. “All he mentioned was that the Mages would be seeking unification with the Warlocks…and that the Prince of Otacia would have a change of heart. That his Soul-Tie would be the new leader of Ames.”

I swallowed, stiffening in place. My thoughts drifted back to that day…how the order of surrender didn’t chime until the moment after I saved Silas.

I danced my fingers on my thigh. “He is my Soul-Tie…yes,” I uttered.

“Does he know it?” he asked, disbelief lacing his tone. “Igon didn’t go that in-depth. I honestly had trouble even believing him until I saw Silas for myself.”

“No, he doesn’t. But he and I have a past. A past our friends don’t know about.”

Leroy stood there, waiting for me to continue.

I sighed. “I used to live in Otacia. It’s a long story, but I met Silas when I was sixteen. We were together for a year and a half before my mother and I faked our deaths and fled the kingdom…when the kill order was put in place.”

Leroy’s jaw fell. “You two have a past?”

My stare drifted over the many bottles of alcohol displayed behind the bar, and I found myself wishing I had my own drink. “He was the love of my life…my best friend. He hid his identity as the Prince for a short while, but I never told him I was a Mage.” My eyes burned as I dragged my lip through my teeth. “It killed me to leave him, killed me to see how he had changed. But that man I loved is still there…I’ve seen him. ”

Leroy’s eyes drifted off in the direction I knew Silas was. “I met Silas last year, and when I tell you his whole demeanor has changed, I mean it.” He turned to me. “I could swear the man had no emotions. No feelings. I damn near fell over when he smiled at you during our meeting.”

I chuckled at that. “Silas was the warmest, kindest man you could ever imagine.” My smile slowly fell. “Loss can change a person…turn them into someone you don’t recognize. But he is good. I know he is good.”

“I believe you, really I do. Especially considering all your seer told me. Convincing the council, however, will prove difficult.” Leroy’s gaze saddened. “Many have lost loved ones because of the Prince and his father. But perhaps your stories will convince them.”

My face heated. “If we were to speak on that…it would need to be private. Just Silas and me and the council.”

He nodded. “I can arrange that.”

I loosened a breath, looking back at the dancing bodies, feeling the music vibrating in my bones.

I turned to Leroy. “Can I ask you something?”

Leroy nodded.

“Do phoenixes have any significance to you? Or your people?”

He frowned, his eyes trailing upward as he lost himself in thought. He responded after a few moments. “The phoenix symbolizes a lot of things for various groups of people. In general, it represents immortality. Rebirth. Hope.” His blue eyes studied me curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Igon gave me a message before he died. Only through fire can the phoenix be reborn from the ashes. ”

“That sure is vague as hell. ”

I laughed. “That was always the case with him.” My smile fell as I recalled his last moments.

“Well…there is the myth of the Immortal Mages.”

My head sprang up. “Immortal Mages?”

He nodded. “Back when the Gods originally created Magekind. Mages thousands of years ago were said to be even more powerful…and could live forever. The Warlocks, Angels, Sea Nymphs, Half-Lives, none of them held a fraction of the power your people once held.”

“And you’re saying Mages of today descended from these Immortal Mages?”

“That’s correct. Though through millennia, the bloodline became next to nothing, hence why Mages have the lifetime of a standard human.”

How had I never read of this? “Would those Mages still be alive? The original creations?”

Leroy shrugged, motioning to the bartender to get him another drink. “I’ve thought about it a lot, but legend also says they were wiped out. While time did not affect them, they still could be killed by one thing. Or one being, I should say.” He paused, sipping from his new glass just after it was set down. “Azrae.”

My stomach flipped at that name. “The God of Vengeance?”

“Yes. Azrae is known as both the God of Vengeance and the God of Justice. He has the power to restore balance at any cost. The original Mages had too much power, power that nearly rivaled that of the Gods.” Another sip. “But your riddle sounds like this power, this flame, is bringing something to life…or causing it to go through a rebirth of some sort.” He rubbed his jaw. “I’m not sure.”

I made a mental note to look more into the history of the original Mages. That is, if I could even find any additional texts on them. “There’s only one place I’ve noticed the phoenix being symbolized,” I continued.

Leroy’s eyes slid to mine. “The La’Rune family crest.”

“Exactly. There are other birds on that crest…” I squinted as I tried to recall them. “A raven, a pelican, and an—”

Leroy’s eyes widened. “An owl.” He set his glass down. “We have myths among the Warlocks regarding the meaning behind different animals. As you may already know, we came to be by the Gods fusing their power with animals.” He winced. “Not breeding—before you get the wrong idea.”

I grimaced, and he continued, “As they experimented, they found different properties. Some lines were stronger based on the animal they originated from. We once had a connection to animals millennia ago—used to be able to speak with them. Anyway, the ancients found that each animal symbolizes something.” He smiled warmly at me. “Tomorrow, I shall bring that book to you. Perhaps it can help in some way.”

I blinked, a smile overcoming my face. “Yes, yes, that would be amazing! Thank you.”

Leroy’s eyes drifted over my shoulder. “Ah! This one has been looking for you.”

I peeked behind me, and there stood Roland, eyes glassy, a giant grin on his face, and cotton candy in his hand.

I snorted. “You’re drunk!”

He kissed my cheek. “Am not,” he slurred.

Leroy chuckled, clasping my shoulder. “I’ll leave you two. Enjoy the rest of the night.” He winked, then strolled off with his glass, his other hand in his pants pocket.

I turned back to Roland. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

He took a bite of his treat. "I was admiring the views." He nodded toward the stage with the nearly naked women and men. "None compared to yours, though," he murmured. "You in those tassels? You'd be as rich as a king with those on display." He motioned at my breasts.

I choked on a laugh, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, you've definitely had too much to drink."

His smile grew, and I adored the sight. I stepped forward, kissing him gently on the mouth. I went to pull away, but Roland gripped me with his free hand, deepening our kiss. My mouth watered at the slight sugary flavor of the cotton candy mixed with the lovely taste of his saliva.

Roland drew away, then smiled devilishly as he tore off a piece of spun sugar. “Now be a good girl for me, Ginger Snap,” he whispered, “and suck this sweetness off my tongue.”

He smirked as he stuck out his tongue, placing the cotton candy on top of it.

It was dark…and there were plenty of others surrounding us that were exploring each other's mouths.

I loosened a breath as I stepped forward, my desire ruling me as I did what he said, wrapping my lips around his tongue and sucking. The sweet flavor melted into my mouth, mixed with the delicious flavor of him.

“Mmm,” he moaned as I pulled away. He ripped off another piece. “Again,” he whispered, then placed it on his tongue.

I was breathing heavily, my sex throbbing as I sucked his tongue and the sweet treat into my mouth. I gave it a few extra pulls, then sucked his bottom lip into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered .

“My turn,” I murmured in his ear, reaching over and tearing off a piece of the spun sugar he held. I offered a smug smile as I placed it on my tongue.

I loved Roland's smile. He leaned in, his lips encasing my tongue and sucking gently. I stifled my moan, my hands gripping his strong biceps.

After sucking it off, he slid his hand through my hair, angling my head up to kiss me. Our sweetened saliva mixed, and as he pressed his body into mine, I felt his erection against my stomach.

I wasn't a lover of public displays of affection, at least of this magnitude. But the lights were low, and several couples were doing the same things all throughout this place. And with the way Roland was driving me wild, I couldn't care less who saw. I was so lost in lust that I might be willing to ride him right here, right now.

His voice was low as he whispered in my ear, “You know, there are other places I could lick this off you…” His eyes flicked to the counter in the back.

We stumbled over our steps as we entered the room Roland paid for, our mouths never leaving one another as we kissed with desperation. I only had a moment to study the surroundings while Roland turned to zip shut the fabric, enclosing us in this space. A bed with clean velvet sheets stood in the center of the room, only illuminated by two dim lamps on each nightstand. Mage light, I knew, as actual flames would be a risk. Luxury mirrors were set up on either side of the bed.

Roland pushed me down until my back hit the mattress. His strong arms gripped my thighs, a wicked grin on his face as he parted them. My bare legs slipped through the slits in my dress, completely exposed. He grasped the fabric in the center, pulling it up until just my underwear was visible to him .

He dragged his finger along the dampened fabric, letting out a hum. “So wet for me,” he murmured, then hooked his finger around my panties, sliding them down and discarding them on the floor. My breathing became shaky as he knelt before me, prying my legs open further. “Such a perfect pussy,” he praised, giving my sex a light slap. I loosened a soft moan, gripping the sheets on the bed beneath me.

He gave me a half-smile, reaching over to tear off a piece of the candy floss. I propped myself up on my elbows, too curious not to watch as he slid the spun sugar over my soaked pussy. The sensation was featherlight yet exhilarating all the same. Roland's eyes were heavy as he witnessed the treat dampen, my arousal absorbing through, the shade of pink darkening.

I bit my lip as he teased my entrance with it, then withdrew it, placing the dampened parts on his tongue and savoring its taste.

“What a combination,” he murmured, gliding his tongue along the candy as his heated gaze remained on me.

“Roland,” I whispered, raising my hips as I watched him. Moaning could be heard in the rooms beside us; the only thing separating us was the tent material.

He grinned, placing the spun sugar on the bed. He leaned his head down, mouth hovering over my center. “So impatient,” he scolded, then flattened his tongue to glide it through my slit. I cried out in pleasure at the feeling, my moans growing as he greedily flicked his tongue over my clit.

“Oh, yes…” I breathed. I should feel shame, knowing others could hear me. But I didn't.

“You taste even better than candy.” He pressed his mouth to mine, the taste of sugar and my arousal all over his tongue .

He repeated the process several times, soaking the cotton candy with my wetness, bringing it to his mouth, only to dip his head down and worship my pussy with that tongue of his after eating it. It was the most salacious thing I'd ever done in my entire life, and I didn't want it to stop.

I watched him in the mirror, savoring the view of his perfect profile between my legs.

Once the spun sugar had been completely eaten, Roland’s finger slipped inside me, pumping in and out as he licked and sucked relentlessly on my clit. My head eventually fell back, my hands running through his hair as he quickened his pace.

My eyes were squeezed shut, my back arching at the incredible feeling, and as my orgasm built, my mind imagined dark hair and amber eyes. It pictured tattoos on tanned skin.

“Godsdamn it,” I cried softly.

I was lost now. I smelled pine and citrus as I recalled him whispering in my ear. I remembered the feeling of his hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair as my body was pressed so close to his.

I pictured him in my room the day he first claimed me. I pictured us in the forest, my mouth sliding up and down his length. I pictured him between my legs, only this time it wasn't the sweet, gentle man from before who I envisioned tasting me, but instead, the dark, tattooed Prince.

Only a few moments passed before I loosened a breathy wail, fisting Roland's hair as I rode out my orgasm on his face.

Roland waited until my throbbing ceased. “Holy hell,” he respired as he withdrew his finger from inside me. He prowled over me, capturing my lips with his.

I am a terrible person .

I desired Roland, but my damn treacherous body still wanted Silas, too. I decided I was done thinking about the Prince.

I grasped Roland's erection through his pants, my eyes locked on him, and he groaned.

“I can't wait to stretch you again, Lena,” he whispered in my ear.

I moaned softly as he pushed his hardened length against my pussy. I was more than eager to feel him inside me, more than eager to look into his hazel eyes than think about gold ones. But as Roland was fumbling with his belt, a feeling of darkness washed over me.

Wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

I quickly grasped his hand, forcing him to a halt as my eyes darted downward, looking past his shoulder.

He froze. “What's wrong?”

I sat up a second later, pushing Roland off of me. I reached down and quickly slid on my underwear. “I-I don't know.”

I stood, closing my eyes.

“Lena, talk to me.”

That feeling…It was getting closer.

No…there can't be an Undead here. There would be screaming.

The feeling increased, and I stiffened as the zipper to our room began to pull upward slowly.

“Roland,” I hissed softly. “Get behind me.”

“What? No, I—”

The material spread, and three figures marched in.

I gasped at what I beheld.

Roland’s brows scrunched together. “ What the fuck…?”

Three people, two with the bodies of males and one with the body of a female, stood facing us. They wore dark cloaks with the hoods up, and their hands were gloved. But what was most alarming were the porcelain masks concealing their faces. All were white, the lips black, and through the eyeholes, solid black eyes could be seen.

Solid. Black. Eyes.

“Roland!” I cried, shoving him back just as the woman shot an orb of darkness at us—the magic of the Undead. I lifted my hands in an X, grunting as I blocked the move successfully.

There were three of them and one of me.

I can do this.

“Go! Get out of here!” I yelled at Roland over my shoulder, flame creeping up both of my arms.

“I’m not leaving you!” he protested.

Another orb shot forward, and I crossed my arms again, sending the orb back before unleashing my flame toward her. The two others stood with their arms behind their backs.

“Get back up! NOW!”

Roland hesitated, swore, and then bolted out of the room, my flames distracting the creatures enough to allow him out.

My fire began inching up the tent fabric. I cursed, shooting ice over to extinguish the flames.

I need to get us out of this room.

As I went to charge toward them, one of the men raised his arm, and a loud shrieking filled my ears. My brain pounded hard, and I cried out, reaching for my head at the shrill noise and the agonizing pain .

Despite the hurt, I ran forward, flame engulfing my skin. The creatures retreated, scrambling out of the room once they detected my persistence.

That's when I heard the screaming. People were witnessing me enveloped in fire, chasing three bodies that seemed to others like normal people.

People evaded me, and I nearly tripped over my steps in these damn heeled boots, pursuing the figures out of the Adult-Only tent and out into the main area.

I bellowed once we made it out, shooting a bolt of fire out at the female's head. I heard her mask crack once she crashed into the ground. Children around me screamed, their parents holding on to them, gaping at me in terror. The show on stage came to an abrupt halt, the music ceasing.

But their fear shifted the moment the creature stood, her mask now falling free from her face. When she turned to me, my eyes blew wide, a shaky gasp leaving my lungs.

Heildee. Elowen's mother.

She didn't look like a normal Undead…no. Her eyes were solid black. Dark, inky veins covered her face. But she wasn't decaying like those I'd seen before. A symbol was etched into her forehead, presumably by a blade of some sort.

Or by magic.

The symbol was a pentagram with what appeared to be a spider atop it. However, because of the overlap in design, it appeared more like a skull.

A sinister smile took over her face. “Hello, Supreme of Ames,” she greeted, her voice hers…and someone else’s. A man.

An Undead was talking .

“Lena!” I heard Silas yell, but I couldn't turn. I couldn't risk any of them moving a muscle.

Her solid black stare shifted behind me, and the two men behind her followed suit. “The Prince of Otacia…the disgrace of his kingdom.” Her smile grew unnaturally wide. “I shall enjoy eradicating you.”

“What's going on?!” I heard Leroy yell.

“Mother?” Elowen cried.

Heildee glanced at her daughter, no emotion registering on her face.

She looked back at me. “Or, should I say, he will enjoy eradicating you,” Heildee said, pointing.

That's when I turned, witnessing a fourth one of them, watching helplessly as the creature raised his hand at Silas.

No.

NO.

I ran. I ran as fast as I could, not worried or caring for one moment if the curse got me as I intercepted their path. As long as it didn’t touch Silas.

It couldn’t touch Silas.

The other Undead screeched, that same ache spreading in my brain—in everyone's—as the people surrounding me clutched their heads, falling to the ground.

It felt like my brain was bleeding, but I couldn't succumb to the pain. Not yet.

I couldn't let Silas die.

I flung myself at the creature, wrapping my arms around it, and wailed as I unleashed every bit of my fire .

There was no control. My skin burned; my chest hurt. But I released everything I had as the creature beneath me screeched, its skin melting from my touch.

“Lena!” Merrick yelled. I could hear Elowen sobbing from behind me.

I was hurting myself. I was doing too much.

But I couldn’t stop. My adrenaline was too high, and all I wanted was for this creature to die.

“LENA!” Silas roared, rushing forward.

“The Lord of the Shadows will rule you one day. All of you,” Heildee's distorted voice promised. “You've been warned. He is coming for you all.”

I had the sense that the remaining Undead were escaping, but I could only focus on the body beneath me.

The Undead man thrashed, but his movements finally began to slow. I didn’t extinguish my flames until his body grew still and quiet. Torrin’s words played in my head.

Calm the flames.

Calm the flames.

Calm the flames.

When I finally felt relief from the heat, when I knew I wasn’t a danger to others, I grasped my dagger, the one I hid under my corset.