Page 88 of The Edge of Darkness

“I need to have a word with Silas,” Nivelle informed us. Her eyes met mine, and the look she gave me said, You know where to find me.

I nodded in understanding.

She disappeared into The Keep, and the rest of us made our way to the table.

Roirdan had eaten just about everything on every platter, but Maeson and Aremis didn’t seem to mind. Neither did I. We had lost our appetite the moment Nivelle uttered the word “curse.”

A few hours later, I approached Nivelle’s chambers again, intent on retrieving her for a particularly important task, only to find Silas emerging from behind his own door to greet me.

He had to have sensed my presence.

“Afternoon,” he said.

“Afternoon. You weren’t at breakfast.”

“I slept late, for once. Haven’t slept this much in a while. I’m guessing it has something to do with knowing you’re safe. I can . . . relax a little.”

I nodded. “Well if you’re hungry, I can have the house-fae whip you up something⁠—”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” A charming grin graced his face. “Starting to sound like quite the Lady of this place.”

My cheeks burned red. Had I really just offered to have the staff cook him a meal? As if Niall and I were already⁠—

“You’re his mate, Auren,” Silas said. “It’s natural.”

I chewed my bottom lip and crossed my arms. “You seem to know an awful lot about fae culture.”

“Do I?” He crossed his arms as well, splaying his wings wider so he could lean back against his door.

He was acting . . . friendly. Cheerful. Normal. And I didn’t know what to make of it. Perhaps this was how he always was, and I just hadn’t had the time, nor made the effort, to get to know him.

I stared at him for a long moment, noting the gentle lines that formed around his green eyes when he grinned. The faint gray markings that sat upon his skin—the markings of a Dionach—which he’d glamoured when I first met him. His hair—soft, golden waves that framed the strong features of his face. This was Silas. Playful, steady, true. Gentle, yet formidable. A force to be reckoned with, but also someone who had feelings, someone who had been searching for a purpose.

That purpose was me, and I hadn’t given him the grace he deserved. I shifted on my feet, shame wrapping around me like a vice. Starting now, that would change. I’d make the effort.

“Perhaps you could teach me what you know sometime.” I gave him a gentle smile—genuine. And gods, he leapt at the sight of it.

“Of course!” His voice practically cracked. “I’d be happy to. You would think that being secluded on the isles would mean that the witches would know little-to-nothing of this land and its realms, but it’s quite the opposite. Dionachs bring back just as much information from their travels and their minglings with humans and fae. Word spreads fast.”

“So you’re no stranger to a good gossip session, then?”

He chuckled. “Something like that. In fact, I’d heard a rumor in Northern Belthria, that a young woman was sending men home with black eyes and broken ribs every week during local brawls and contests.” He lifted a brow.

“You did not.”

“Swear it on Torin’s crown that I did. ‘Lady Everton’ was the woman to beat, besting every man in the ring, while turning the heads of everyone watching.” The look on his face was pure pride as he said the words.

I snorted a laugh. “Turning heads, huh?”

“Have you never looked in a mirror?”

Another flush stained my face. “Silas, you⁠—”

“I mean nothing romantically by it, but it is the truth. You are a rare beauty, and you’re regarded as even more attractive by many because of what you’re capable of.”

“Then you truly know nothing of the hearts of men.” I dropped my gaze to the floor. “All my life, no one wanted anything to do with me. No one desired a woman who could out-perform them with a weapon, or knock them unconscious if she simply felt like it. Men wouldn’t even look at me.”

“Yet every man in that courtyard nearly broke their neck when you arrived that day for the king’s tournament.”