The vision of the boy came to mind, and the strong connection to Silas was impossible to ignore.
Fighting against sleep, I cupped his face, pressing my lips against his sweet, warm lips. I reveled in the taste of him, the enveloping scent of cloves and spice, the delicate urge to want more. My body craved more despite the fatigue. He moved against me, his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me up onto him. I straddled his hips, his hands weaving through my dark hair.
I needed to see those visions, to see if they contained a clue to this madness.
To stave off my own madness.
This man, for better or worse, was the reason I was here and not six feet under. To an extent, I owed him my life, but he never asked for it. The prospect of loving a beast was less frightening in these moments without judgment. Perhaps he was right. It was not a sin to desire.
I pulled back, taking a moment to take in his beautiful features before it would disappear. Before the world told me it was wrong. Before I lost all sense of self, plunging into the abyss with him.
“The woman and the man I keep seeing, they have something to do with you, don’t they? Your name—your true name is what is keeping you all trapped here in this sublimed space.”
His eyes clouded, his hand covering mine. “I have given you everything you need to find the truth. It’s up to you to piece them together.” Silas pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“Piece together,” I breathed before launching into my own worries as a distraction. “You could have killed me tonight, Silas. If you hadn’t stopped—if I hadn’t.” I hesitated to finish, the words twisting in my mouth. “I may have been merely a corpse on your floor.”
A smirk crossed his face, nuzzling deeper to rest among my dark waves. “I should have said the same of you, Little Dove. Tell me that, honestly, it was the bestyou could do, an ambush and a knife.” He clicked his tongue. “Honestly, I expected more creativity.”
Each press of his kisses along the bare skin of my neck set flames up my flesh, my own breathing hitched, expectant of the sweet kiss and more. To be set aflame until I combust into nothing more than cinder and ash.
Against my neck, he whispered, “Did you not enjoy yourself? To do what I did takes restraint but the effects, as you are aware, are pleasurable.”
My toes curled, snagging against the smoothness of the stain fabric. Heat burned my cheeks as the memory of that particular kiss flooded. The intense ecstasy vibrated, and I became delirious with the need of such heady high.
I promptly scolded myself. It was bad enough I had allowed him to taste my blood. It was enough that I was in bed with Silas and another to revel in his illicit touch. One of a monster. Yet I wanted nothing more than to revel in such delight, to let him ruin me with such deliciousness of wandering hands.
I no longer fought against it.
{Date illegible}
The woman came again to the castle today. She offered up a way to ease my suffering to forget the blood of that terrible night—so much blood. What she wants in return is something that I can contend with in this life and after. All in exchange to not see her bloodstained tears close for the final time. To not wish vengeance upon those responsible.
To not look at a rose and only see its thorns.
If I agree to her request, there is no turning back from the path I shall pave. Death would be better than to be without her.
Twenty-One
Ipressed numb fingers against my chest, savoring the little warmth radiating from under my cloak. The tavern in which I sat was modest, smelling dank and smoky from the burning pit. Few people sat at the bar, nursing their mugs of ale and sorrows.
I nursed mine with reservation as the turmoil in my mind ebbed and flowed like the inlet I remembered as a kid.
As I stood at the edge of the world, the cool water lapped at my feet as I awaited the tide to pull me out. The calls of seagulls and the salty smell of the sea kissed my skin, balancing on the edge brimming with the possibility of the freefall dive into the seafoam below. Faced with exhilarating death, I’d curled my toes standing at the precipice of it all.
This morning reminded me of that feeling—the thrilling idea of falling into the unknown.
The cobblestone path I once took to Ayla’s cottage was diverting, a crossroad into the village and a grim memory of the last time we had spoken. I had entered the village that morning in hopes of finding definitive proof Silas was not the one behind the villager’s troubles. Despite the proud attempt, no one wanted to answer questions from a stranger.
The winter sun glistened against the fresh snow, villagers shoveled their abodes and took fire to the larger paths to melt the slush. Upon seeing me, they scurried away into dark corners and into their homes, wary of the passing stranger no longer accompanied by a familiar face.
A somber silence echoed to the long sound of church bells in the distance. They sounded even now inside the tavern where I picked at meaningless conversations from the others around. Salvaging anything I could from the troubles plaguing them or a clue—anything to ease the unrest within my own soul.
The door slammed, and the walls shuddered as the cold blasted in to be greeted with stifling warmth. An older woman knocked her snow-ridden feet against the floor, stalking forward with a limp. A cloak hugged her close, obscuring her face as she approached the bar.
“Ale, sir,” the familiar voice called to the bartender. She settled in next to me, dropping the hood back to gray ratted hair flying out from a bun. Hilda’s gaze flashed to me. “Fancy meeting you here, child.”She smirked, turning the ale in my stomach sour. “I would have thought you’d be dead by now, living on that hill.”
I sighed into my mug. “No, I am still very much alive.”
