[THIS STORY WILL BE TAKEN DOWN ON SEPTEMBER 30, 2024]
He had hunted me, captured me, and locked me in a tower.
Season 3 'Of Crows and Thorns'
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While in RISING, Tabitha discovers something peculiar that may assist Nelle in her plan to escape the...
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I'd spotted Silas a couple of times at my family home, stealing onto the estate with the mortal contractors brought in to deal with Evvie's engagement.
Evvie.
I missed her terribly.
Lise too. My parents, as well.
A pang of heartache ricocheted against my chest. I sank down to my knees and hugged Sage, burying my face into his wisps of mist, breathing him in and expelling the misery. Nothingness clung to Sage as well as the faint scent of the rancid dead chicken he loved so much.
Sliding my cheek against Sage's flank, my gaze skimmed along the floor as my mind turned inward, rifling through the last moments I'd been in my family home.
After learning the truth of the Alverac I'd ran to my bedroom, determined to do as Graysen had begged me—run. I was going to grab some clothes, get Sage and Evvie, and we'd all escape. Instead, I'd encountered me—a changeling.
I'd inhaled magic-infused dust.
I couldn't breathe and was suffocating.
I thought I was going to die.
Silas had caught me as I fell, held me in his arms, and given me his own breath to break through the magic that had ensnared my lungs. I'd gazed upon a striking face framed with white-blond hair as pale as my own, bright Kingfisher-blue eyes staring down at me in reverence. He'd stared at me as if he already knew me, or the idea of me at least. He'd certainly spoken that way, with familiarity, at the cottage too. Which was strange, because I'd never met him before.
I thought on Silas. "Handsome," I decided. I tilted my head to look up at Graysen.
One lonely eyebrow rose. "Handsome? That's not much of a fucking description."
Untangling my arms from Sage, I drifted my fingertips over my own face as I thought about the best way to describe Silas to see if I could taunt the tamer. "He has these amazing cheekbones and these hollows," I said, brushing my fingers across the swelling curve of my own cheeks. "Silky blond hair, and these full pouty lips, and he's..." I shrugged a shoulder, thinking about Silas's features and wondering how to word it to wind Graysen up further. "Really pretty."
Graysen squinted at me. "You do realize you just described Barbie Doll Ken."
Despite the severity of our conversation I almost burst out laughing. Instead, I chewed my laughter back and schooled my features into a dreamy gaze. "Handsome," I sighed wistfully as I rose and wandered away.
"You've already said that," I heard behind me, the voice rough-edged and irritated.
Graysen didn't notice the cunning look I shot him before I turned around slowly, making an appreciative humming sound just before I said once more, "Handsome."
He advanced, prowling, and I backed away, retreating. Both of us held each other's defiant gazes, neither of us blinking. I jolted as my spine hit the bookcase.
