Page 35 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Thirty-Five

LENA- NOW

I choked on a sob as I ran to him. So quickly were our arms wrapped around each other, our knees sinking to the concrete ground.

We held each other tightly as if one of us would slip away if we so much as loosened our grip.

“Torrin,” I cried into his chest, squeezing him close.

“Lena,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. His fingers weaved through my hair as he held me. “Lena…how…?” He pulled away gently, his fingertips running up my cheeks, analyzing me as if I were not real, as if it were a dream.

His face, aside from a busted lip, was still as handsome as always, but the circles under his eyes showed how weary he was. My eyes bounced all around him. He was still muscular, but he had leaned out tremendously. And his hair was much shorter now, just like everyone’s here, though it looked like it had been a couple of months since it had been shaved.

On both wrists were metal bands with those glowing, red gems. He wore what everyone here seemed to wear, prison clothes that resembled those in Otacia: a brown t-shirt and matching bottoms.

I trembled, afraid of the answer to the question I had to ask. “How long?”

Tears slid down his face. His voice cracked as he answered, “A year.”

My face crumpled, and another sob broke free as I pulled him into my embrace again. My fingers drifted through his short platinum hair as I held him, and he ran his hand along my back in a soothing motion, comforting me as we both cried. Just like Torrin to be concerned about me when he had been the one enslaved all this time.

Nearly the entire time he’d been gone, he’d been here ? Did Igon send him to Faltrun? Did he know this was to be his fate?

I could sense Merrick and Elowen walking up behind me, and I sniffed as I pulled away again, holding Torrin’s calloused hands in mine.

“Torrin.” Elowen’s voice was broken as she whispered, “Is that really you?”

He gave her a sad smile, tears still streaming down his face. His eyes slid to Merrick, who was gaping at him.

“You’ve been here this whole time?” Merrick’s voice was rough, and I could tell he was trying to keep from crying.

Torrin’s lip trembled as he nodded, and then his eyes went to who was standing behind his cousin .

Silas held Torrin’s stare. There was no warmth to his expression, just shock and anger. So much anger. His hands were held in fists at his sides.

Torrin was declared an enemy of Otacia over five years ago when he fled into the night with us. A conspiracy was formed that he was a part of the Queen’s murder. A part of mine.

“Holy Gods…I…I don’t understand,” Edmund whispered, and I knew this was the first time the Otacian men had seen the man who had trained them without his glamour—with his pointed ears.

“You’re a Mage?” Hendry’s mismatched eyes were blown wide. “You…”

I had never seen such shock on Roland’s face either. Before the men could continue, I spoke. “Torrin and I met in Otacia a little over a year before I left.” My eyes went to Silas, his golden gaze burning through me. “He is the one who provided my Mother and me safe passage to Ames.”

“Torrin is my cousin,” Merrick said to them. “Elowen’s, too.” He gave her a soft smile. “Not by blood, but all the same.”

Silas’s fists were now trembling, but it was Roland who spoke. “Word has been spread that you were a part of the Queen’s assassination.”

I had never heard such a stern tone from the normally playful man.

“That is bullshit,” Torrin spat. “The Queen was nothing but kind to me. I would never have wished her harm.” His eyes skated to Silas. “I know we have much to discuss, Your Highness,” he said with gentleness to his tone. “But despite your father and your kingdom’s treatment of my people, I grew to love Otacia. It was only when the kill order was put into effect that I left. ”

Silas’s voice was low when he said, “The Mage that killed my Mother, did you know of her identity?”

Torrin shook his head. “As far as I knew, Amatta was human. I hardly spoke with her.” His voice became sharp as he said, “And even when she was publicly burned to death, there was no proof. I saw no pointed ears, no magic on display.”

“Are you saying she wasn’t a Mage?”

“I’m saying I knew nothing of any of it.”

“We don't need to interrogate him right this second,” I interjected, squeezing Torrin’s palms in silent comfort. His coffee-brown eyes traveled to mine. He gave me a gentle smile.

Before Silas could persist, Merrick’s gasp caught our attention.

“Oh, my Gods,” Merrick breathed.

A man with a striking resemblance to Torrin walked forward, and a woman with golden hair and brown eyes was at his side. I noticed her hair wasn’t shaved, just like how Polly's wasn't.

“Merrick, Elowen, you are so grown,” the man whispered, face crumbling.

Merrick ran up to him, finally releasing his cry as he hugged the man tightly. Elowen examined them, unsure fully of who they were.

More tears spilled from Torrin's eyes, and he grinned when he looked at me again. “I found my parents.”

My eyes widened, his hands still in mine, and I glanced back at the couple. Tobias and Josie Brighthell went missing when Torrin was sixteen years old, meaning Merrick was nine and Elowen was four the last time they saw them.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Elowen cried softly, walking forward. Merrick hugged Josie next .

Tobias, Merrick's maternal uncle nodded, moving to give Elowen a hug, squeezing her tight. “I'd say I'm so happy to see you, but that would be a lie.” He pulled back, grasping El's shoulders, eyes flicking between her and her brother. “What are you doing here?”

Torrin and I stood up just as Merrick replied, “It's a long story. How did you two end up here?”

Josie's eyes fell. "We made the mistake of leaving Ames one morning. Not leaving permanently…but Tobias and I wanted a morning to ourselves—wanted to roam the roads and see scenery other than that of our little town.” She shook her head. “We planned to be home before dinner, but we were poisoned on the road. Faltrun was looking for slaves even back then.”

Tobias gently caressed his wife's back. “The poison they used weakened our magic, causing our glamours to fail.” His watery eyes lifted to Merrick's. “When they discovered our magical identity, they didn't kill us. No, they decided to keep us, poisoning us daily—just enough to keep us from fighting back.”

“Dear Gods,” Elowen murmured.

Josie gave her a sad smile. “Only once the cuffs rolled out did the poisoning cease.”

It was evident the two were weak. Dark circles, slim bodies, and skin littered with scars. It was a miracle so many years of abuse hadn't killed them.

“What type of poison?” I asked gently.

Tobias shrugged. “We aren't sure what, exactly. The first time they used it, it was a dust that they blew in our faces. They tainted our meals with it afterward.”

My head flew to Silas. “Otacia must've gotten that poison from here...perhaps they are distributing it.”

Silas 's frown remained, even as Josie said, “You've seen it before?”

I nodded gravely. “Yes. The Otacians used some dust in Forsmont just days ago.”

It was quiet as Tobias's eyes narrowed, studying the Prince. “Silas La'Rune travels with you,” he noted. "That is most shocking."

There was clear animosity there. It seemed that Silas's reputation had spread even to those down here, enslaved. It was silent for a moment between us all until Elowen spoke again.

She seized Edmund's arm. “As does Edmund.” She brought the soldier forward, his cheeks flushing at the action. “My boyfriend.”

Torrin’s eyes turned to saucers. “ Estielot is your boyfriend?”

Edmund held Elowen close to his side, and she leaned her head on his chest as she said, “Soul-Tie.”

Torrin glanced between the two of them, then grinned. “He is a good man.”

To that, Edmund’s lip trembled, honored by his once superior's kind remarks.

“Though make sure you lie and tell him the ceremony starts at an earlier time for your wedding day.” Torrin smirked. “Estielot could never be on time for anything.”

Edmund blinked, and then, despite everything, tipped his head back and laughed. “You got me there, Brighthell.”

Hendry and Roland were smiling; even Merrick was, too, but Silas still wore a frown, eyes narrowed.

Torrin's gaze settled on him. “The three of us should speak privately,” he said as he glanced between Silas and me. He glimpsed over at his parents, then at his cousins. “You all have plenty to catch up on.”

Torrin held my hand again, guiding the three of us over to a corner away from everyone. We weaved through bodies, some looking up at us with tired eyes, some so broken they remained staring at the ground.

When we finally stopped, Silas and Torrin were staring daggers at each other. I nervously stood at Torrin’s side.

“How are you here?” Torrin began. “Together, I mean?”

Silas stood glaring, the calm before the storm, as I filled Torrin in on everything. The attack in Ames, Igon's death, him naming me Supreme. I told him of Forth Laith, leaving out my assault, and told him of Immeron and the mountain. He was especially pale-faced when I told him of the necromancer and of the occurrences in Forsmont.

“My Gods.” Torrin shook his head. “I…I can't believe Igon is dead. And you being Supreme?”

“Insane, right?” I laughed softly. Gods, it was so nice hearing his voice.

Torrin offered a warm smile, one that caused my heart to skip a few beats. “I was going to say fitting.”

My cheeks began to heat just as Silas said, “Explain.”

Torrin turned his attention to the Prince. “What do you know?” he asked, his arms crossing over his chest.

“That you left Otacia the same evening Lena supposedly was killed." He shook his head. “I thought this whole time it was you who did it. You who betrayed our kingdom, you who played a part in my mother’s death.” His eyes went to me, then back to Torrin. “Though Lena is alive, and you two seem rather fond of each other.” His fists clenched. “So, explain.”

“Torrin had nothing to do with what happened with Ryia, but when we were in Fort Laith, I didn’t trust you yet. And I feared if I mentioned Torrin, knowing the kingdom sought him, it would cause more harm than good.”

He darted his gaze between us, his lip curling.

“I remember you two being friendly at my ball. Were you…did you…”

“No,” Torrin and I said simultaneously.

“It was Torrin who escorted me home the day I was arrested. He told me that day he was a Mage and, later on, proved it by removing his glamour.”

Silas's eyes continued to shift between the two of us, brows remaining lowered as he focused on Torrin. “Were you a spy?”

Torrin swallowed, but his expression remained neutral. “I was to keep an eye on things for the sake of my people, yes.”

Torrin told Silas of his ability to read minds, about Igon’s orders, and told him how he was meant to be in Otacia all that time.

“So, for the majority of our relationship, you kept this secret?” Silas asked me. “You had this…connection with Torrin?”

“Silas, I never wanted to keep anything from you—”

Silas snorted, though he found nothing funny.

I turned to Torrin, needing to tell him an important detail. “Kayin spoke to me, Torrin.”

His eyes bulged. “What?" he breathed. “When?”

“When I was on Mount Rozavar. She told me she was in Otacia. She…she didn’t seem well.” I chewed on my bottom lip, then winced. “I’m assuming you aren’t able to hear her, even if she tried to reach out.”

His eyes were weary as he shook his head. “No…I’ve heard nothing. It has been quiet in my head all this time.”

My lip wobbled, and Silas asked, “Who is Kayin? ”

“A seer,” I responded. “Torrin and I haven’t ever met her face-to-face, but we have been able to communicate with her telepathically. She…” I dragged my hand down my face. “She is the one who told us awful change was coming, to leave for Ames the night before your mother’s death.”

Silas’s eyes flared, and just as he went to shout, I raised my hand. “But I know she was not responsible. She only saw that it would happen. Believe me, she was working with Igon, and he very much respected Ryia.”

“I can’t fucking believe any of this.” He let out a dry laugh. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

“Silas—”

“I never knew you, did I?” His lip curled as he looked me up and down. “You are a stranger to me.”

He went to storm off, but I grasped his arm. He shoved me off and continued to move anyway.

I sped up to him, leaving Torrin. “Silas!” I hissed, looking around at all the weary eyes around us, at my friends’ raised brows. “Just let me explain, dammit!”

His face was contorted with rage as he whirled at me. “You’ve said quite enough!” he hissed back, and he glanced around, lowering his voice before continuing. “You had a secret relationship with another man. You left in the night with him. You chose him .”

“It wasn’t like that at all,” I insisted quietly, even though Torrin and I did become intimate with one another years later.

He shook his head, and for a moment—just one moment—sadness shown in his eyes. “There are only so many lies I can look past, Lena. I…I don’t know how I can trust you after all this.”

I felt my throat closing up. “I swear to the Gods, I will never keep a secret from you again. Ask me anything, and I will tell you.”

Silas opened his mouth to respond when a guard opened the door above, dragging us from our conversation.

The descent was quick. The woman from earlier, Polly, was shoved back into our cage. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes glassy, as she held her crossed arms close to her chest. She wandered forward.

Her face was just…bleak, her eyes distant as if dissociating.

“Josie, Dimitri calls for you,” the guard yelled.

Torrin's mother swallowed, her head falling. Tobias grasped her chin, urging her to face him. He whispered something in her ear, then gently kissed her forehead. Tears spilled as she walked away into the guard's grasp.

“What's happening?” I asked quietly as Torrin walked up to Silas and me.

I watched Polly as she shrunk onto the floor, pulling her knees close and lowering her head. I saw myself when I looked at her. I saw my own brokenness…I saw a shell of a person staring back at me.

Torrin's jaw feathered when I gazed up at him. “She is one of Dimitri's toys . He rotates through the women here, forcing them to do as he pleases. He doesn't shave the heads of those he takes pleasure in.” Torrin's hands were shaking violently at his sides as his eyes followed his mother's disappearing frame. His voice quavered as he said, “He's been using her for years.”

My stomach twisted into knots, my mind drifting to Dimitri's words.

“I may have use for you.”

My chest began heaving, my eyes watering.

I can't go through it again. I can't.

Torrin's brows drew together as he looked back at me.

I am alive.

They are gone.

They aren’t here.

I am…I am not safe here. I'm not safe at all.

I blew out a shaky breath, squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

“Lena?” Torrin asked. In my panic, his voice sounded miles away. “Are you okay?”

I was sinking, but Silas's hand on my back brought me back to shore.

While I knew he was still beyond angry, his eyes softened as he studied me, understanding shining in his irises.

“He won't touch you,” he promised quietly. “He won't get anywhere near you.”

My teary eyes drifted to his, and I was grateful to see the anger behind his eyes gone, at least for now. I nodded my head slowly, hoping he was right.

I wasn't sure how many minutes passed, maybe forty. I had grown accustomed to the horrific smell, and Torrin introduced me to a handful of different people he'd met here. Dani and Viola were nowhere to be found, and while there were plenty of flies buzzing around, I didn't believe Dani to be any of them. I could only hope she and Vi were coming up with a plan.

All the Mages here…they had no willpower to fight, it seemed. Everyone I'd been introduced to could hardly muster even looking at me.

Torrin told me how Mages here have been kept for labor, whether that be serving, cooking, or doing heavy lifting. Or, in the handful of long-haired women’s case, giving their bodies over to the King. Rations were slim. If there was no work, they remained here, caged like animals.

It was sick. Vile. I hated Dimitri more than Ulric, and that was saying a lot.

My hands clenched and released at my sides as I stared at Polly. She didn't move, and no one came up to talk to her or check if she was okay. In our shared experience, I found myself wandering toward where she sat, her head buried in her knees.

I sat down beside her, and she didn't so much as budge.

“Hi,” I said softly.

She didn't respond.

I wasn't entirely sure what to say, but I knew there was one thing that had always helped me when I was broken…when things seemed hopeless.

“This is not the end, Polly.”

That caught her attention. She stiffened, then gradually tilted her head to the side, her grey eyes watery as she inspected me.

“We're breaking free from here,” I promised. “And when we do, you'll get your revenge. There will be justice. Your story does not end in this cage.”

She stared at me, her expression lacking emotion. Her voice was small as she replied. “You've only been here for an hour. You won't feel that way after being subjected to his wishes for three years. Even three days will change you.”

Tithara, guide me…three years she'd been imprisoned here?

I debated placing a hand on her shoulder, but any unwarranted touch could trigger her. I kept my hands firmly planted in my lap. “We will be out of here before you know it,” I whispered. “We have a plan.”

Her eyes shifted, emotions welling there, but they glazed over the second her head turned, witnessing who was being shoved back into our cage.

Tobias let out a muffled cry at the sight of his wife stumbling back in. Her eye was swollen as if she had been punched, and her long, golden waves were no longer…her head was now shaven bald.

“She's a bit too old for Dimitri's liking now,” the man chortled, shoving her until she collapsed onto the floor.

As her knees hit the concrete, Torrin lost all composure. He bared his teeth and roared as he rushed forward, grasping the guard and throwing him on the ground before he could shut the cage door. He quickly straddled him and began pummeling his fist into the man's face. Over and over and over.

“Torrin, stop!" Josie pleaded from her spot on the ground. Her face crumpled as she witnessed her son lose himself to his rage.

Torrin's assault only lasted a few seconds, though, before two more guards rushed in, one flinging Torrin off of his comrade, the other squatting down to assess the wounds.

The one who tossed Torrin off then grasped the collar of Torrin's cotton shirt, and my platinum-haired friend squeezed the man's forearms, attempting to break free from his grasp. Torrin was strong, but nearly a year of mistreatment had weakened him.

“DON'T TOUCH HIM!” I shouted as I stood and rushed for them.

The guard only offered a cruel laugh before sucker-punching Torrin in the face. His head cracked backward, blood splattering over the concrete ground.

Elowen cried out, and as I went to help, Silas roughly seized my arm.

My head whirled back at him. “Let me go, Silas!” I seethed.

He squeezed my arm tighter, and I hissed at the pain. “You can’t stop them,” he bit out.

I went to argue when he roughly shoved me to the side and charged toward the man himself. He gripped the guard's shoulders, hurling him to the ground.

The soldier's shoulder slammed into the concrete floor, and he gaped at Silas. He only had a moment before the Prince was above him and began beating the absolute shit out of his face.

I’d witnessed Silas fight before, but this rage was unlike anything I'd seen from him before. Raw. Unfiltered.

It was clear he was letting out his frustrations on this man. All anger. All resentment. Not that I’d complain.

I'd never seen a face become so bloodied, never seen Silas's pupils so dark as he repeatedly swung his fist into the man’s face.

The enslaved Mages began to cheer, the first sign of life any of them had shown thus far, and as the man beneath Silas went to grasp the dagger secured at his side, Silas snatched his arm, wrenching it back until it made a loud crack.

The guard wailed in agony just as the man tending to the guard injured by Torrin cried for backup. The cheering died down as another soldier hustled in. He sped to the man Silas was still beating, tackling the Prince to the ground .

I ran and grasped the neck of the soldier on top of him. I pulled, not realizing the strength it might take to snap a neck, before he elbowed me in the stomach, causing me to fall back.

“Lena—” Silas began.

The soldier wrapped his hands around Silas’s throat before he could finish telling me to get back.

Silas gritted his teeth, grasping the man’s hand tightly in an attempt to avoid being strangled. The soldier wouldn't budge.

“LET HIM GO!” I bellowed. It was a petty move, but I didn’t give a shit. I gripped the hair on his head and ripped it out from the root.

He shrieked, releasing Silas to reach back for me just as I elbow-locked his neck, pulling him back with me to the ground.

The remaining man cursed before stepping away from the injured soldier. Torrin advanced, and the two began fist-fighting.

The man in my hold easily broke free, as my strength without magic was lacking in comparison to a man of his size. He turned, pressing me into the ground and tightening his hands around my neck. The rest of our friends were about to join in the fight when a loud bang jolted all of us.

“Enough!” A man barked, a handful of soldiers rushing down the steps with him.

My eyes slid to the voice—to the man from before. The one with brown hair and vibrant green eyes.

“Disengage,” he chewed out, eyes locking on the man holding my throat as he hurried down the steps. I spiraled into a coughing fit as the guard hesitantly obeyed, releasing me from his tight grip.

“Fen's arm is broken because of him,” he spat, pointing at Silas.

“He’s lucky it’s only his arm,” the Prince replied with a smug grin, rising to his feet.

The soldier bared his teeth, but the one originally injured rasped, “The blond started it.”

Torrin scoffed, and the green-eyed man clicked his tongue. “Causing issues again, Torrin?”

“He did nothing wrong,” I seethed. “Your piece of shit guards antagonized him.”

His emerald gaze locked on mine, only for a moment. He cocked his head toward Torrin. “Take him,”

“NO!” I protested just as the guards hustled in, seizing Torrin's arms.

“It’s okay, Lena,” Torrin said softly before glaring at the soldiers who pulled him forward.

“Don’t hurt him,” I pleaded, hating how desperate I sounded. But they ignored me, everyone but that damn brown-haired guard, who stared at me with a look I couldn't place.

I stared into his green eyes as every other guard in the room filtered out.

“Where are you taking him?” I gritted out as I stood.

Silas was beside me, his fingers grazing my neck, checking for damage. I couldn't focus on the pleasure his touch provided me. I couldn't focus on anything other than the fire I wished I could unleash upon the bastard before me.

“He’s getting punished. Don’t worry. He’s too valuable an asset to kill.”

Silas gave an ingenuine smile from beside me, his hand slipping from my neck. “How comforting."

“Punished how?” I asked in a low voice, heat rising in my body. Fuck this man, and fuck these cuffs .

“A flogging. He’s been through it before,” he said softly. “He’ll be okay.”

I felt Silas tense beside me and watched as his eyes slightly flared. Even if he felt betrayed by Torrin, I knew the two had cared for one another. It had to worry him, knowing he was suffering in such a way.

“He didn’t do anything to warrant such treatment,” I spat. “You’re all fucking pathetic.”

He ignored my words. “What is your full name?” the man continued, changing the topic.

I blinked and then examined my fingernails, doing my best to seem composed. “What’s it to you?”

He grasped the iron bars of the cell, frown deepening. “Your full name,” he said sharply.

I scoffed, my eyes sliding up to meet his, and I gave him a cruel smile. “Lena Daelyra, Supreme of Ames.” I gave a mocking bow, and my smile vanished as I glared at him, my voice going low. “But there's no need to remember. When I get free of here, which I will , I promise I’m scorching every last one of you who have enslaved my people. Nothing will be left of you or this place when I’m finished.”

The man's eyebrows rose, and then he mastered his shock as he studied me. A few moments passed.

“No response?” I asked sweetly.

His face became pained. “You…you look so much like her.”

I blinked, my brows scrunching together just as Josie wandered to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I turned to meet her swollen eyes.

“Not that he’s entirely innocent, but Waylon has helped us as much as a Faltrunian soldier can. Extra food, warm blankets, things like that. He doesn’t agree with the rest of the soldiers or Dimitri's wicked ways…so he helps us where he can.”

My eyes sprang wide at the name she used. Quickly, I whirled my head back to the soldier on the other side of the bars.

The handsome man with brown hair and green eyes. Green eyes that were the same color as mine.

The man who Mother named her business after.

Waylon.

Waylon.

My body locked up, and I had trouble finding my voice. “I look like who?” I breathed.

The man’s eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he said, “Like Minerva.”