Page 37 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

SILAS

“ D o you use it to punish me?”

What the hell did she mean by that?

I was still sitting alone nearly an hour later, lost in my own thoughts and not desiring communication with anyone. Era kept shooting me a look of concern, but I would just shake my head at her. She knew I sometimes needed alone time. I appreciated that about her.

Lena was back by Roland’s side, and the sight infuriated me, though I knew I had no right.

I thought she was being flirty with me. I must’ve misread the scenario, or perhaps my own skills were lacking. I had lost my smoothness after I lost her .

Women had always desired me with little effort. Between my looks and title, I didn’t have to flirt or woo any of them. A half-smile and some sex eyes were all it took to get them naked in my bed.

Era was different. Our relationship started out of mutual benefit. At twenty-two, my father demanded I be married. I had put it off as long as I could, fighting tooth and nail against the idea.

The only woman I ever dreamed of marrying was Lena.

Erabella Dreason wasn't supposed to be at the ball last year. Her family detested her and treated her like nothing more than dirt under a rug. She had snuck into her family's carriage, as her younger sister was the one they wished to present to me.

Meeting her in the corridor she was hiding in, speaking of both of our resentments for our parents, I knew that she was the most genuine and unpretentious person in the castle that evening. I'd already had sexual relations with most of the princesses who had been attending at that point, having seen them at the consecutive one that was thrown every six months. None of them stood out to me. They were nothing but a quick and meaningless fuck.

But with Era, it was different.

Even when she became my wife, I never felt like I needed to woo her. We didn't even have sex until a few months after marriage…I didn't wish to force her into something she didn’t want.

I would never force something like that.

I had even told her that if she wished to see others, she could just be my wife for the title and that I was okay with it. But for whatever reason, she'd grown fond of me.

I had grown fond of her, too.

Still…it never compared to the love I once had. And how could it? The person I had been back then died along with her. I was a living ghost until those warm, green eyes met mine for the first time in over five years. Until I heard my name whispered from her lips moments before I was about to strike.

I raked my hands down my face.

And now she and Roland were an item. Just fucking perfect.

That bastard was the master at witty banter. I used to think I was good at it.

“He pleased me even better.”

I clenched my fists so hard. If I had long nails, my palms would be bleeding. Did she say that to punish me ? Or was she truly more satisfied with him?

I watched them from across this vile cell, Roland whispering something in her ear, her cheeks flushing as she offered him a bashful smile.

Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck all of this.

I wanted so desperately to smash my fists into something—anything. My knuckles were already bleeding from beating that guard's face in, but the sting wasn't distracting enough.

My violent thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and Torrin being shoved back inside our cell.

Lena was instantly there, and Torrin winced as she assessed him, his skin raw from being flogged.

Sweat began beading at my hairline, and my breathing became shallow. It was so humid in here…the space felt too small.

I couldn't look at his skin.

I couldn't breathe.

His brown eyes scanned the space until they fell on me. He said something to Lena, her gaze going to me briefly before she nodded and headed back to Roland.

I scowled at Torrin as he hobbled on over to me, but still, he gave me a half smile .

He hissed as he sat beside me on the concrete ground. “That glare is as vicious as ever,” he commented.

Torrin had been my inspiration. My mentor. My friend.

But he had deceived me, just as Lena had. They’d deceived me together .

As if sensing my thoughts, Torrin said gently, “My friendship with you was always real.”

I scoffed. “As was Lena’s,” I said blandly.

“It was.” His eyes lowered to his lap. “It’s unfair of you to hold a grudge against her.”

My fists shook. He had no idea what he was fucking talking abo—

“She loves you so much,” he said quietly.

My muscles loosened, and I relaxed my fists. Otherwise, I said nothing, staring blankly ahead.

She wouldn't have left me if she did.

“You know that, right?” Torrin pressed. “She's always loved you.”

I swallowed an unpleasant lump in my throat. “She fancies Roland in her bed these days,” I said bitterly.

His eyes enlarged, and his gaze darted over to where they sat beside each other on the opposite side of this disgusting cell.

His cheeks flushed slightly. “Without my ability to read minds, I don’t pick up on things as easily,” he admitted. He turned his head back to me, clearing his throat. “And you’re married.”

“No shit.”

“So, why does her being with Roland matter?”

I shot him a nasty glare, then scrutinized Roland as he wrapped his arm around her. “If you don’t understand the difference, you’re dense as hell. ”

He sighed, running a hand through his short, white hair. “I’m saying just because she’s with someone else doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him.

I hated that the exhaustion in his expression bothered me. I shouldn't give a single shit about him.

His deep brown gaze held mine. “I see the way you look at her. You still love her too, don’t you?”

I curved my head away, inhaling sharply and dramatically resting my head against the wall. My eyes found Lena again, her gaze meeting mine again briefly before she quickly looked away.

I loved her when we were younger. Loved her more than the air that filled my lungs. Loved her more than life itself.

She was my best friend, the only person that ever saw me, truly saw me. She didn't see a prince or a stuck-up Inner Ring boy. Well, not for long, anyway. She saw Quill…and Quill was the real me, even if the name was not.

I had given her all of me…stripped myself bare, and poured my heart, my soul, out to her. I wanted to give her everything this world had to offer. I wanted nothing more than to face every day of the rest of my life with her by my side.

But now? Now, I looked at her and was reminded of five years in hell. Now, I gazed at her ears and was plagued by the thought that while I had given her my entire self, she still didn't trust me enough to give me all of her. Now, I looked at her and saw her soot-filled house and pictured myself weeping on my bedroom floor for six months straight over the memory of her charred corpse .

Now, I stared at her and pictured her eyes rolling back, grinning in pleasure as she was bedded by Roland fucking Aubeze. A smile that, at one point, only belonged to me.

Now, I looked at her, and I was furious .

How could I love her when that was my primary emotion? How could I love her when her happiness didn’t bring me happiness? That I was only satisfied when she was mine?

“I don’t know how I feel for her anymore,” I muttered after a beat.

I don’t know how I feel about anything .

Torrin also rested his head against the stone wall, eyes narrowing as he stared at the beautiful redhead. “Why did she get so panicked when she saw Polly?” he questioned after a moment. “I've never seen her close in on herself quite like that.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. “She was raped,” I answered quietly.

A rough gasp escaped Torrin as he snapped his head toward me. His brows lowered, his lip curling. “Who?” he asked in a tone deeper than I'd ever heard uttered from his lips.

My eyes slid to his. “Rurik. Daerin, Geoff, and Jones almost got to her, too, but I found them before they touched her.”

Torrin's hands were shaking against his knees. He lowered them into his lap. “I can assume you took care of them?”

“Of course I did.”

“Good.” He nodded to himself. “Good.”

Torrin sat beside me silently for a few moments. His voice broke as he said quietly, “I’m proud of you.”

I felt significant discomfort in my chest. “Don’t,” I warned in a low voice.

Lena had said the same words to me. Did they have any idea of the things I had done? They couldn’t possibly be that daft, could they?

But Torrin continued anyway. “You have always had a good heart, Silas. Even though you have strayed in the past, I always knew you’d do the right thing when the time came.”

Before I could protest, Torrin stood, wincing as he did so. His brown eyes slid down to me. “Perhaps the day is not far off. The day we can return to Otacia…the day you finally become the King you are meant to be.”

My eyebrows raised at his forgiving words, and my mouth parted to release a sigh. Torrin offered me a small smile before limping away toward his cousins, Elowen and Merrick.

Why did they think so highly of me after all I had done?

What was wrong with them?

I had tortured hundreds of their kind, men and women alike.

I had never killed a child, at least. But I’d bring them home, my father imprisoning them until they’d become of age, only to hang them like their family. I only visited those cellars a handful of times, and surprisingly, the children were kept well-fed and clean, given books to read, and presented with hobbies to discover.

There was no point, though. They were to die as adults anyway.

We only had it happen once so far, as the rest of the imprisoned children were still underage. We captured a boy four years ago. He was seventeen at the time. My father said twenty-one was a good age to put them down.

He was hung right before I left for Ames.

I shut off all emotions after what happened to me six months after Lena left…something I couldn't even think about without breaking into a sweat and panicking. I could kill and torture with a straight face as those I was harming begged and pleaded, if not for their own lives, for those they loved that I killed in front of them.

I’d do that, then go home and drink and smoke and fuck, not caring in the slightest that I had committed such atrocities.

But now it was like everything was weighing on me—like my humanity had been lost and was somehow finding its way back.

I hated it. I wanted to go back to not feeling a damn thing.

“Excuse me?” a small voice asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

I shifted my stare over to find a child standing by me. I didn’t know if they were a boy or girl, as all the slaves’ heads had been shaved. Growing in were tight blonde curls.

My eyebrows raised, and I peered around to see if their parents were nearby. But no one was. No one even had their eyes on the kid.

“Um…how can I help you?”

The child’s big blue eyes studied me, clutching a kitten ragdoll. On their little wrists were my father’s device. It made my stomach turn.

“I’m Saoirse. I’m four.”

My chest felt like it was going to cave in, seeing this child enslaved in such filth.

My son would be this age if he had lived.

My son.

“Hi, Saoirse. I’m Silas. I’m twenty-three,” I responded softly.

She smiled and plopped herself down right next to me. My eyes nervously darted around, but still, no one was looking at the little girl. The only eyes that were on us were Lena’s, who watched us with a curious gaze .

“Everyone's saying you’re a prince,” she said matter-of-factly with her little voice.

I pulled my lips to the side, nodding slowly. “That I am.”

“Are you here to save us?” she whispered, clutching her doll closer. “I don’t like being here. These hurt.” She gestured to the cuffs. “And I want to go home.”

I examined the device as she held out her wrist. The device had been configured to someone else’s fingerprints. I couldn't get it to budge.

I felt like a fool, blindly accepting this device into our army without pestering my father as to where he got them. How they even worked.

I just didn't care at the time.

“I saw you fight the soldier. You’re strong.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “What’s your doll’s name?” I asked gently, gesturing to the small kitten she held. I'm surprised they let her keep it. Probably Waylon's doing.

“Boots.” She picked up one of its plush feet, waving it at me. “See? His paws are white. My mommy said it looked like he was wearing boots.”

A small smile crept up my face, but it fell quickly. “Where are your parents?”

“They went to Elysium,” she said sadly. “They went to protect me.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, feeling a weight on me as I stared at this little girl who had no parents.

I didn’t know how we would make it out of here. Dimitri could’ve sent word to my father, though he risked me spilling to Ulric their treachery. No, they wouldn't turn me over to Otacia. They would kill me—that would be their safest bet. But knowing Dimitri's arrogant tendencies, I could easily see him enjoying my torment for a while before ending my life.

“Will you be my new daddy?” Saoirse asked.

My eyes grew wide. I certainly wasn’t envisioning that to be her subsequent comment. “O-oh.”

This little girl must not have any idea who I really am. Must not know that because of my father, the world was this way. And because I came from him…honestly, I’d be a shit father.

I cleared my throat. “I think you deserve a better daddy than me.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I am off in battles all the time.”

I felt a pang in my chest at the sight of the little girl’s face falling. “I don’t mind," she insisted. "I’m by myself a lot. I would be a good daughter.”

Perhaps I did have a heart because I felt an ache surfacing in my throat, felt my heart shatter at those innocent words. “When did you get here, Saoirse?” I asked, trying to change the subject carefully.

“I dunno.” She furrowed her brow in contemplation. “It was…cold when they took me.”

Saoirse nestled in close to me, resting her small head on my thigh. I tensed, unsure of what to do.

Big, blue eyes stared up at me. “Princes always come to save the day in my story books. You’ll save us, won’t you?”

That burning in my throat radiated down into my chest, and I did my best to give her a smile. “I will do everything I can,” I promised.

I remained still as Saoirse beamed at me, snuggled closer, and drifted to sleep on my lap.