Page 31 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Thirty-One

MERRICK

M y sister's emotions were bleeding into mine, even without utilizing my gift, as Edmund and I sprinted into one of the weathered tents in this place. I braced myself when she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

“Father!” Elowen whimpered, flailing violently as Edmund and I placed her on the ground. Dani began spreading salt, chanting that spell to keep the sound inside. “STOP!”

“El,” Edmund said softly, grasping her hand in an attempt to calm her. “Elowen, baby, I’m right here.” When she gradually stopped panicking, when her breathing slowed, he took one hand and held her face. Black irises stared back at him as her eyes shot open.

“Edmund,” she whispered, and her face crumpled. “My parents are dead,” she cried.

His own face fell, his eyes filling with tears. “ I know…I know…”

Viola’s palms glowed gold over El’s temples, her jaw clenching as she concentrated. “This isn’t doing anything,” she gritted out.

“It might help speed up the process,” Dani said, attempting to be positive as he flipped through his spell book, looking for anything that might help.

“Why are her eyes black?” I shook my head, constructing a mental partition. Her pain…it was too much.

I could now understand why people became unsettled sometimes when my eyes turned dark. It certainly didn't give me fuzzy feelings seeing my sister's.

Elowen sniffled as she struggled to catch her breath. “Why did they have to die?” she wept. “Why did he take them?”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Edmund whispered. “I wish I could’ve stopped it.”

Blood still stained beneath her nose, but blessedly, no more crimson flowed.

Her lip wobbled, her limbs shaking as she turned her attention to me. “M-Merrick…”

I leaned in close, grasping her hands. “Yes? What is it?”

She choked on a sob. “I'm sorry for your mother. I know it's my fault.”

My eyes flared, and I dropped her hands, stumbling back.

“I see her, and she blames me,” she sobbed. “I know she's right.”

“Elowen,” Viola shook her head. “Ayana is not here. Your mind is plagued.”

“I killed her!” Elowen wailed. “I killed her!”

I clutched my chest, about to break into a million pieces. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't. Not when it came to my mother.

I rushed out of the tent, running my hand through my hair. This was fucking torturous, seeing my sister in such agony.

I was grateful Vi took the responsibility of working on her and even more grateful for the soundproofing spell. I could no longer hear her excruciating screams, nor could any potential enemies.

I craved a drink, a smoke—something to take this edge off. I debated rolling up and smoking some of the dagga I had purchased in Forsmont. Elowen hated that I smoked sometimes, so I decided against it. Decided that it wasn't fair for me to feel any amount of bliss when my sister was suffering. I leaned against the fabric of the tent.

Edmund stumbled out a few moments later, aggressively rubbing at his forehead. Being in there was hard for us all. Seeing someone you care for tortured in such a way and being unable to do anything to stop it…it was horrendous.

The sky was darkening, hardly any light from the sun left. Any moment, and the stars would be glittering in the sky.

Edmund stood beside me, resting his head against the thick material. I was too exhausted to bother telling him to bug off.

“I want you to know that I truly care for Elowen,” he said quietly. “I know you don’t like me very much. I know you despise my presence. But…I love her.”

I inhaled the summer air slowly, turning my head to him beside me.

“I love her,” he repeated, emerald eyes shining. “I am not some playboy. I have kept to myself my whole life, in the romantic sense.” His cheeks flushed. “I mean, she was my first kiss, for fuck’s sake.”

My jaw fell open at his candor. “Oh…”

I looked away, crossing my arms. I supposed that made me feel better.

“I'm an old-fashioned guy. I was raised to court a woman. Get her family's blessing. Wait until marriage.”

My head slowly turned to his again.

“I'm really trying hard on that last one.”

“Ugh!” I grimaced. “I don't want any details.”

He laughed through his nose, running his carbonado hand through his golden hair. “I'm just saying I care for her. I respect her. And I know that your resentment toward me is because of your love for her. I'm glad for it. I'm glad you care.” He paused. “I know we aren't close, but I care and respect for you, too.”

My eyes instantly flicked to his, dark as they read him.

Truth.

I clenched my jaw, unsure of how to respond. Edmund continued talking.

“What did she mean by saying she killed your mother?”

I squeezed my hands, the feeling of my ice creeping up my veins.

I didn't want to talk about it, but I chose to give him the short answer. “Elowen is the love child of Vicsin and her mother Heildee. A product of their secret affair.”

Edmund's face paled, his artificial arm crossing over his real one. “Your father cheated on your mother.”

“That’s correct.” I rested my head back on the tent where, inside, my sister was undoubtedly wailing in agony. “Only when Heildee gave birth did he leave my mother. Before that, he had lied. He secretly was seeing Heildee for months, pretending to be a good husband to my mother, even though he had grown cold, closed off from her.”

I chewed on my lip ring, shaking my head. “My mother was a bright light, and my father's betrayal didn't just dim her. He extinguished her. She killed herself a few years after.” I tilted my eyes to Edmund, who wore an expression of tenderness and dismay. “Elowen didn't kill my mother. My father is responsible for that.”

I pushed off from my spot, deciding I was my father's son after all. A shit person. I went to smoke the dagga after all.

I plopped myself against the large carousel twenty minutes later, taking a breather and enjoying the herb's ability to spread warmth through my body. I held the joint in my fingers, staring up at the moon looming in the sky.

Elowen used to think it was made of cheese as a child. It was crescent-shaped this evening, but staring at it, I chuckled to myself. It really could pass as cheese.

I took in a third drag, the end glowing orange. I was blowing the smoke out through my lips when my eyes went to Era. She was sitting on the ground with her back against a large tree, her head resting in her hands as she watched me.

I lifted the joint in a silent offer, and she narrowed her eyes, her nose scrunching.

I laughed softly and found myself wandering toward her.

She looked up with tearful eyes as I sat beside her, resting my head against the large trunk.

Her grimace grew. “That smells bad. That stuff isn't good for you, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It didn't stink that bad, at least compared to other herbs that could be smoked for pleasure. Its aroma was like tobacco with a hint of mint. “How are you holding up?” I asked, ignoring her comment and internally cringing.

Isn’t it fucking obvious how she's doing?

She sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “I hate seeing them suffer.”

Them.

I tuned into her emotions, letting her pain wash over me. The buzz from my high helped it hurt less.

I gave her my best attempt at a smile. “It won’t be forever. They’ll get through this,” I assured her gently, pointing my fingertips to the air and conjuring up some mage light as I said, “Lumen.”

Little orbs that glowed white began floating around us, offering up some light.

Era's eyes sparkled. “Amazing,” she breathed, eyes dancing over the little lights. She offered me a shy smile. “I am quite fearful of the dark…I'm grateful for this magic.”

Her brown eyes bounced between mine, a glimmer shining in them, reflecting off the mage lights.

“That was your father?” she asked gently.

My eyes flickered, falling to the ground before nodding. “Yeah.” I took in another drag.

“I'm so sorry.”

I shrugged, blowing the smoke out through my nose, and she placed her hand on mine. The touch made my skin heat.

When I gazed back at her, her eyes trailed back over to the striped tents. “What is happening to the world? How are they growing more powerful?” She squeezed my hand before placing it back in her lap. “A few months ago, life seemed normal. It felt safe.”

Her eyes slowly slid to mine, her head now facing me and noting my frown, I’m sure. “Though I suppose it’s never felt that way for you,” she said quietly.

I flexed my jaw, again trying to muster up a smile. “It wasn’t so bad in Ames. Before everything went to shit, anyway.”

She gave me a small smile. “We’ll get it back. All of it. And it will be better than it was before. I know it.”

My eyes flared, and I blinked in surprise.

Her brown eyes twinkled, and she once again looked back at the tents. “We will make this world better. For everyone.”

And in reading her emotions, I knew she meant it.

“You will certainly be an exceptional queen one day,” I said softly.

Her eyes found mine again, a single tear trailing down her cheek. “Merrick…”

“Try it. You'll feel better,” I insisted, offering up the drugs like the bad influence I was.

She scoffed, wiping away her tears. “I'm not a heathen,” she said, sticking her nose in the air, her blonde bob flipping with the movement..

I rolled my eyes, and my lip curved into a half-smile. “That mouth of yours says otherwise.”

Her head shot back to me, her tears already fading away at my distraction. “I say ‘dick’ once, and that makes me a heathen?”

I smirked. “No…but twice does. And you just said it for the second time.”

She pulled her knees close to her body, sucking in her smile as she shook her head, looking away.

I raised my hands in defeat, the joint still in hand. “You're right. You really are just an uptight princess.”

Her almond gaze darted to mine, and her lip curled as she plucked the dagga from my hand, pressed it to her lips, and sucked.

And sucked.

My eyes widened. “Era, that's too much—”

She pulled the joint away from her mouth and began coughing violently, the smoke slipping from her lips.

Quickly, I snatched the dagga, stubbing it out on the tree trunk, and began patting her back as she choked out, “Can't. Breathe!”

I was an asshole for the giggle that escaped me. Her furious gaze shot to mine, and she coughed so hard she gagged.

I grasped her chin, my thumb pulling her bottom lip down, and I leaned in close, my mouth hovering above hers.

The gesture made my heart flutter, especially as her wide-eyed gaze found mine. My lips were just an inch away from kissing her.

I used my magic, sucking the air—the smoke—from her lungs into mine, clearing it back to normal just as my hand trailed down her neck, resting against her chest. My palm didn't burn, but there was a slight tingle. I let the glow out, healing the minor inflammation in her lungs.

Her coughing ceased.

“Better?” I asked.

“You're an asshole,” she breathed, but she didn't push me away.

My hand was still on her chest, and our lips were hovering so close. To an onlooker, we'd look like lovers about to devour one another.

I was high and not at all thinking clearly. I was grateful Roland and Hendry were checking in on Edmund, leaving no one to see us.

“I thought I was a dick?” I asked lowly.

She licked her lips. “That too.”

My smile grew, and I let myself tune into her.

Yep. She was high now. Usually, the first time didn't work, but the Warlock's version clearly did the trick. I certainly felt fucking amazing right now.

The desire she felt poured into me, washing over me like molten lava. But I enjoyed the burn. Ached for it.

Both of our chests were moving rapidly, our heartbeats in a race with one another.

Why did I feel this way when I was around her?

My thoughts drifted back to a conversation Viola and I had last evening.

“What are we, Vi?” I asked as we lay in our tent.

Her head had tilted to the side, and she shrugged. “Does it matter?” Her hands trailed down my arms. “If it feels good?”

I mentally blocked out her feelings, not wanting to feel desire right at this moment, even though my own was demanding my attention.

“You've been my friend for many years,” I said gently. “I just…I never felt this from you before.”

“We weren't on the run before…weren't fighting for our lives.”

That answered what I assumed. Viola wasn't in love with me. She simply wanted release.

I pulled my lips to the side, looking away and nodding slowly.

Viola cringed. “That came out wrong. Merrick— ”

“No, Viola, I get it.” I rolled my hoop earring between my fingers. “ Friends with benefits. That's fine.”

“Once we return to normalcy, whenever that is, maybe we can be something more.”

This fixation I felt for Era…this lust…I never felt this magnitude of it before in my life, even when I was thrusting myself into Viola's gorgeous, tight heat. Even as she swirled her tongue on my dick.

What would Era look like with my cock in her mouth? In her pussy?

Wait, what the fuck am I thinking right now?

It was the drugs. That's all this was. Drugs.

She was the first to withdraw, shaking as she did so.

There was no smile on either of our faces as we stared at each other…because there was no denying what just happened. No denying that the desire she felt right now was for me. No denying the desire I felt was for her. Drugs or not.

Guilt flooded her senses, her face crumpling as she eyed Silas's tent.

“Era,” I said softly, and her tearful eyes met mine. “It's the dagga making you feel that way. Not me. Don't feel bad.”

I was lying, of course. Sure, the herb heightened libido. But it wouldn’t make her desire me .

Her hands balled into fists, her lip curling. She went to retort, to say what, I didn’t know. My eyes picked up movement before she could speak.

I tilted my head, watching as Lena exited Silas’s tent. Once again, her emotions overpowered my senses. I swallowed the unpleasantness that washed over me despite the dagga's warmth. Despite Era's.

“How is he?” Era asked a little too loudly, scooting away from me.

“He’s back to his old grumpy self,” she muttered. “He’ d like some water.”

My brows creased as Era nodded. She stood, striding away to take care of her husband.