CHAPTER 7

Nika

True to his word, Silasnever touched me. As soon as his head hit the pillow, the large oaf turned over and was snoring long before I slipped away to a fitful hour of sleep. When the bed shifted, my eyes shot open, and a dagger was already clutched tightly in my hand.

"At least I never have to worry about you letting your guard down," Silas remarked coolly, yawning and stretching out his arms like he hadn't a care in the world.

I got to my feet, expertly sheathed the glass dagger, and collected my things.

Other than the book my father left me, I didn't keep anything else on me that wasn't a weapon. I hadn't been one for sentimental reminders. Even when my mother passed away after being murdered by one of Father's enemies, I hadn't been driven to keep anything she owned. Maybe because what little memory I had of her and why she died already hurt too much.

The day my mother was murdered, my father's entire world shifted. So had mine, honestly. I was only in my teens and not fully trained, so I didn't quite understand why she'd been killed. But when I was older, it was evident my father had made enemies everywhere, both among the Dark Fae and in the outside world.

Father took the blame for her death, but what I remembered of my mother was that she, too, believed unfalteringly in unity. Of course, my memories of her were severely faded and somewhat incoherent, but my father spoke of her often and replayed moments he'd captured in different items with his magic.

The night my father fled, every single one of those items was taken with him. It was the only reason I knew he'd never return; that we no longer had a place in that world. Even Dugan knew how important those memories were to my father and never shamed him for it. To be quite honest, I was so relieved when Father found Dugan and the pain of my mother's death was eased a little with the Light Fae's presence.

Glancing over to Silas's side of the bed, I noticed a small tin box on the nightstand, much like the one downstairs, and watched the mercenary take the box and slip it carefully into his pack. "What sort of items was a Normie keeping for you?" I asked, eyes on his traveling pack.

Silas looked over his shoulder at me, the muscles in his back visibly taut under the fabric. "Some very rare, enchanted objects," he said without hesitation. "I paid a pretty penny for these, and I'll only use them as a last resort, but they could mean the difference between life and death. I acquired them just in case I ever met you."

"I thought you didn't believe in fate," I taunted with a pointed smirk his direction, but I was curious what he'd chosen to keep in the small tin box he recovered from Maude.

Silas's lips tilted in a way that made the sexy man hit sexier somehow. "I don't."

"You must trust them a great deal to leave such valuable things here," I went on searchingly, tucking stray purple hair behind my ear.

The mercenary's eyes twinkled happily, watching the movement of my hand in a way that made my heart flutter treacherously in my chest. Grinning from ear to ear, he turned all the way towards me. "Are you perhaps interested to know more about me, love?"

I cleared my throat, turning my head away and stiffening as if under attack. "No."

"You are!"

"It's not uncommon for someone to seek to know the stranger they hired better," I argued helplessly, hearing just how desperate I sounded and hating myself for it.

This is why I don't get close to people!

"Oh, aye, but it means you're thinking about me," the silver-haired Fae surmised baselessly.

"Answer the damn question, mercenary," I commanded, ready to lay him out for his impudence.

Silas cackled gleefully before answering, "I've known them since they were young. Saved them from a very nasty Dark Fae when they were barely out of nappies. The Dark Fae was making Dark items using blood magic and needed over a dozen innocent souls to accomplish it."

His eyes danced with dangerous light, and it made me wonder if this man was truly chaotic neutral like Lev argued he was. Silas might pretend he was an ice-cold killer, but aside from his obnoxious sexual harassment, he didn't strike me as someone with a broken moral compass. No, if anything, he was more of a hero than a villain by the sounds of it. Perhaps that was what my father saw in him—enough to leave the man alive. My father had a knack for seeing the good in someone's heart, and maybe that was what happened the day they crossed paths.

"I didn't manage to save many, but I saved those two and never seemed to be able to stay away after that. Really, they saved me..." Silas went on before his voice trailed off.

I listened intently, intrigued by the story of their forged friendship. One that oddly reminded me of my own with Lev, which was an attachment that started as innocent and as common as they came but became something unbelievably special.

But it was the tone of the mercenary's voice and lift to the powerful man's mouth that made my stomach twist into knots. No other word but enchanting came to mind as I stared at the oversized brute, hoping he'd go on. But my gold-eyed companion didn't say anything else, merely got to his feet and threw off his shirt.

Blinking, I forgot to look away as strong muscles rippled, contorted, and shifted under scar-riddled flesh the color of brown sand. His physique was awe-inspiring and honestly difficult to look away from. I'd seen its likeness plenty of times, but something about the gorgeous shape and detail gave me the weirdest urge to map out every line and commit it to memory.

It was a forbidden treat for the eyes.

One scar in particular struck me because it was right over Silas's heart. It looked too profound and much too large to be a superficial scar, so it made me absently wonder how close to death the smirking imp had come that day.

Ancient Fae scripture was tattooed down the powerful Fae's sides in black ink. Several other tattoos were inked across his arms and chest, and an emblem that felt painfully familiar was branded onto his back-right shoulder in a blood red color. The look of a dangerous man but with a smile that lit up like the sun peeking through nothing but dark cloud cover.

I eyed the interesting marks and various tattoos scattered over his arms and chest, taking a moment to ponder each one's meaning. But it was the branded mark that stole all my attention. Others would be distracted by the demon wings across his pecs, but the red mark was the one I wanted to know most about.

Before I could look away, Silas's gold eyes caught mine, and I opened my mouth to defend myself, knowing he'd spin a tale to fit his perverse version of me. Thankfully, a knock came at the bedroom door, saving me from a sure to be ridiculous attempt to dissuade the man from thinking I was interested in him.

Even though this time I was.

Maude peeked her head in. "Would you two care for tea before you go?"

Silas shook his head. "We'll take some for the road, but we need to keep moving, love."

Her sad eyes dropped before she sighed. "I'll pack you some things."

The woman disappeared from the door, and the two of us were left to gather our items before heading downstairs after her.

Taking an obscure pathout of town, Silas led us to another stretch of forest. His eyes never failed to trace the world around us twice over, and it was evident when we reached the "safe zone" because his shoulders relaxed and his expression softened.

Finally, he took a knee over what appeared to be nothing but forest floor. His magic quickly formed a symbol, and the dirt and dead leaves sprung apart before a body-wide gap and a ladder leading into more darkness appeared in front of us. Silas shouldered his pack, and his magic danced around him before snaking down the ladder and into the dark underground tunnel. When his liquid gold eyes lifted and captured mine, the smirk I'd come to expect from the oversized flirt was back.

"Ladies first," the playboy Fae remarked condescendingly.

I didn't wait. I dropped into the hole, foregoing the ladder. My magic whipped out in all directions, slithering over cement covered walls and sparsely tiled floor, covered in dirt, muck, and moss.

"That's one way to do it, I guess," I heard the other Fae say before his boots hit the ground behind me.

I turned to find him without a weapon in his hand, looking like he was about to pose for a human celebrity magazine, and I outright sighed in frustration. "Not worried about what you might find in this tunnel, mercenary?"

"What gave it away?" Silas rebutted sarcastically. When my eyes narrowed on him and I gripped my sword tighter, his hands went up in mock surrender. "I come in peace, princess."

"I doubt someone like you truly needs their tongue when it comes down to it," I threatened, sword glinting in my magical pink light.

Silas's smile gave him away. "Oh, aye, but it comes in handy with feisty birds."

His first step I recovered without issue, but then he was suddenly in front of me, my sword hand pinned behind my back and his other one around my throat. The tension in the air wasn't like anything I'd felt before, not with him or any other man. Not used to being overpowered by someone, I absently swallowed to wet my dry throat.

Silas stared down at me, a hint of a grin on his lips and our bodies pressed together like we were lovers and not strangers. "I don't know what it is about you that gets my heart going and makes me want to break a few rules, but it's titillating, little bird," Silas disclosed in a husky, all-bedroom voice. "Any more fight from you and I might become the bad guy you've accused me of being this whole time."

The glint in his eyes didn't scare me the way he probably wanted it to, or really in the way I'd prefer it did. No, I was battling an onset of foreign sensations creeping into my throat and throbbing between my legs. Sadly, I wasn't ignorant about what it all meant. I was turned on. I wanted him to make good on his threat. If I were truly honest with myself, I wanted nothing more than to let loose and give into sexual indulgence for a second.

But then I remembered the entire reason we were together at all.

Before he could blink, I slammed him into the nearby wall, my squeezing hand on a place every man held dear, and the mercenary's eyes were comically wide with surprise. I went to my toes, large chest pressed into his and mouth seductively close. "I don't think you could handle me, mercenary," I taunted, my voice an erotic whisper. "But thanks for playing."

I released him, smirked, and then took confident steps down the tunnel like the place between my legs wasn't indecently warm and my heart wasn't hammering like the goddamn liar I was.

Before I could calm my racing pulse, Silas was beside me, sweeping back his moon-colored locks and his obnoxious gait returning to its usual overly confident strides. "Fuck me, Nika. You're a hard one to pin down. Usually, I don't have to work so hard to figure a woman out, but you have me all levels of daft."

I eyed the man with a quick sideways glance, then lifted my chin. "I'd prefer it if you stopped trying, thanks."

Again, I was caught off guard and pinned to a wall by a man nearly three times my size. His gold eyes danced over my face and down my body, an overly toned arm out and blocking my ability to flee the direction we were headed. I mean, I could break his arm, but even I didn't know what I wanted to do anymore. And perhaps that was the true danger of this man...

He made me want things I shouldn't.

"I'm not the sort to bow out when things get a little rough, love."

I didn't breathe. "What about those rules of yours?"

"Rules were meant to be broken," Silas was quick to retort.

My lips thinned. "Meaning, that self-righteous speech you made to Richard was a load of shit."

The gorgeous self-satisfied smile the mercenary offered me in response was just another reason to hate him. Mostly because it was annoyingly adorable and made it difficult to stay angry with him.

I'm falling for it, and I'm not even sure why.

You had to credit the troll, he worked fast, but this was yet another thing I'd have to fight while making my way to the location indicated in my father's book.

Unlike in a physical fight, seduction was a mind and willpower battle first and foremost. While I'd never openly admit it to the silver-tongued playboy, I hadn't struggled with attraction and temptation quite like this. Something about Silas made me curious and eager to know more about him. His body was physically appealing. His personality, when not spouting shit, was alarmingly charming. Probably most lethal was his persistence.

Very few men kept at it once I'd physically overpowered them. Their fragile egos couldn't get over a woman stronger and faster than they were. But Silas didn't seem at all dissuaded or put off by my strength. If anything, it seemed to invigorate his desire to have me. Which would become a serious problem if I didn't get my body under control because I was unfortunately finding that I didn't exactly hate the idea.

It took my brain a second to catch up when Silas bent down, ghosting his mouth over mine. I went to push him away, but the mercenary was faster, capturing my hand and bending down all the way. Our mouths met hotly for a breath, lips sliding. When I didn't immediately punish him, Silas took that as consent and kissed me a little harder, forcing his tongue past my lips and entangling it with mine. I couldn't help the surprised moan or the way my other hand grappled his tactical belt, dragging the brazen oaf closer against my better judgment.

Silas groaned and took violent hold of my face, thick fingers sliding into my hair. "Lord help me..." he murmured in a voice laced with hunger, then he kissed me as if it was his last act before death.