Page 144 of Shades of Silver City

I hope so. Scathe sniffs the ground, then glances back at Godric and me. He wasn’t himself when I saw him last.

“Follow Scathe,” Godric says, gesturing at the hound.

My heart squeezes at the thought of Archer not being okay.

Scathe leads us partway down the alley, and Godric presses his palm into the brick. It opens up into a hidden doorway. My brows fly up, but at this point, I’m no longer surprised.

We enter a short tunnel, then descend some stairs, finally arriving in a strange, small room. The floor is made of black dirt, and a plethora of greenery is packed into the space. It’s bright, with lights hanging above all the plants.

“Where are we?” I ask.

Godric grunts, and Scathe growls at another door on the other side of the room. Godric crosses the room and opens it to reveal what I recognize as the Underground—tunnels that are simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar.

Scathe bolts down the tunnel. Godric starts jogging after him. I follow suit, suddenly grateful for being somewhat in shape thanks to my job at the bar. But even though my endurance is accidentally pretty decent, I still struggle to catch up with the duo.

After twenty minutes of running, I have a cramp in my side. I slow down to catch my breath.

“Go…on,” I say, doubling over and wiping the sweat from my brow. As I do this, I notice the path here isn’t as packed as some of the other tunnels.

He’s here! Scathe says. Get your ass over here, woman!

Gulping in more oxygen, I get a second wind and push forward.

Up ahead, the tunnel bends out of sight. I grit my teeth and force myself to keep going. When I round the corner, my shoulders relax, and I allow myself to slow down.

Archer kneels next to Scathe, scratching the hound’s neck. He glances up, saying something to Godric. I halt, frozen in place as I watch the interaction.

Archer’s honey-gold soul-shade wafts around his body. The sight of it steals the remaining air from my lungs. Even though I’m no longer running, my heart continues to race. He tears his gaze away from Godric and faces me. Then he stands, staring at me with a heartbreaking look of sorrow and regret.

My instinct is to run to him, kiss away his pain and fears, but I can’t get my legs to move. He’s half-fae. He’s a reaper. He’s not the man I thought he was.

Quit being dramatic, Scathe says. He is the same man you know. Forgive him.

Get out of my head, mutt.

What Scathe said earlier hits me hard. He implied Archer didn’t know what he was—he never wanted to know. It’s only because of me that he let his darkness out. I always knew this man was too good for me, that I’d be the one to ruin him.

I think about how he’s dedicated his life to changing the city.

How he gives every ounce of energy to making the lives around him better.

How he would never purposely hurt someone, even if they deserved it.

I think of how he brought me tea and oil pastels when I was sick. How he thoughtfully picked a mask to match my tattoo. How he disrupted his entire life to protect me and make me comfortable.

How, if it wasn’t for me, he might never have known the true, dark extent of his power.

No matter what his power is, he’s still my Archer.

Fuck it.

I rush forward. He takes my cue and does the same, meeting me halfway. I launch myself into his arms, gasping for air. He wraps me up in his strong muscles. My legs latch around his waist, and he spins me around, squeezing me tight.

“Tasia,” he says like a prayer. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” He continues to mutter my name, not attempting to hide the emotion in his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Archer,” I whisper back. I’m still angry at him. So angry. But deep down I know he’s still the man I’ve come to care for. The man with a golden soul-shade and a golden heart.

“Did you know?” I whisper, needing confirmation.

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