Page 169 of A Sin So Pure

“Are you going to kill me now? Because if you’re going to do that, I’d love to get on with it.”

Silas laughs, a full-bodied chuckle, as ifI’mthe crazy one for asking such a question.

I think it’s a valid one.

“Nora,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“What?”

“I already knew.”

Shock reverberates through my body, down to my soul.

“No.” I shake my head. “No one knew.” I sit up on my knees, crawling to the iron bars and gripping them in my hands. “How did you know?”

We must have been too loud because a metal latch slides, echoing down the stairwell. Steps sound, a quick patter of boots on stone. I watch as Silas watches me, all with a quirked brow, like he’s challenging me to tell him to leave.

He doesn’t move as the Seelie guard rounds the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, you can’t be down here?—”

Silas simply touches the Seelie guard, and the body crumples to the ground, unmoving.

Dead.

Deadby touch.

My brain processes the information, then tries to cross-reference every memory of Silas to see if I missedsomething—a hint that he was more than he let on. But there are none.

“You’re a soul-stealer?” I whisper.

“Shadow-walker, empath, soul-stealer—a king can be many things.” Silas levels with me, crouching on his heels and folding his palms together. “You must have noticed in your guided researchat Mt. Bramble that soul-stealers haven’t emerged outside Royal bloodlines since before the split of Faerie. So, imagine my surprise when Pride revealed you to society.”

“Is it wrong of me to have pretended I was special?”

“You are special. Just not in that specific way.” Silas rubs the day-old stubble growing on his chin. “Pride kept your magic well disguised and kept you well hidden from my spies. I always hadsuspicions, of course, but it wasn’t until I saw your magic up close that I realized what you are.”

His tongue darts out and licks his lip.

“Something different entirely. The magic of a healer twisted in such a way that instead of life, you gift death.” He huffs a short laugh, an awe-filled smile dimpling his cheeks. The way his black eyes roam over me has gooseflesh rising across my skin. “I wasn’t lying back then, in your office, when I said I couldn’t get a good picture of you.”

“Is it clear now?” I ask. “The picture of me?”

“I see you clearer now than I’ve seen anything.”

My throat is tight as I swallow. My eyes drift away from Silas and to the darkness at the edge of my cell.

“Why doesn’t anyone know about you?”

“Because I don’t want them to.”

“But you want me to know?”

“You and Wrath.” He shrugs. “It’s not nearly as fun a power as yours. There’s no pain with me. No finesse. No control. It’s just,poof.”

On the last word, his eyes widen, and his fingers stretch out in front of him, a mimed explosion.

“So, you really aren’t here to kill me?”

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