Page 164 of The Sins of Silas

Something was weighing on her. Though, given all the shit that happened, that was to be expected.

After a few moments, she angled her head to me again, quirking a brow. “It’s creepy as hell when you give me those dark eyes, you know.”

I blinked, and the corner of my lip turned up.

Liar.

“Creepy?” I questioned.

Her smile took over, and she gestured to the seat beside her. I had to admit, I was surprised she wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder again.

I slid in, and the bartender quickly took my order and hurried to fulfill it. The three workers were busting ass, considering all the stressed Faltrunians begging for a buzz. But I also knew the bartender wished to have nothing to do with me. At least she took my order.

I frowned as I surveyed the room. A handful of wary eyes were on the both of us, mostly on me, but still. Era really shouldn’t have been alone in here.

“A gimlet?” she asked with a surprised smile, breaking me from my thoughts.

I offered a lazy grin. “What? It’s a good drink.”

She shrugged, sipping the clear liquid in her glass.

I eyed the olive sitting at the bottom. “A martini. Not surprising,” I commented.

Her empty glass clanked on the countertop as she slid it toward the other side of the bar. She rested her cheek on her fist. “How so?”

I nodded my thanks to the bartender as she walked up, setting my drink down in front of me. I placed a few bronze pieces on thewooden bar top and slid my drink to myself, taking a sip of the refreshing cocktail before responding, “I’m just not surprised we both prefer gin.”

She blinked, then snorted. “You think us kindred spirits, Merrick?”

I studied the red lipstick she wore and her short blonde hair laying softly along her jawline. Her brown eyes were nearly amber at times, depending on how the light shone in them. The low lighting made it look like flames danced in her irises.

“Merrick?” she asked, her smile falling.

Shit—I was staring.

Creepy indeed. I swallowed, shook my head, again sipping my drink.

“Another, miss?” the plump worker asked Era with a smile—a different treatment than she gave me. I wonder if she knew the Princess of Otacia was who she was serving.

“Please,” she slid a handful of bronze, and the woman nodded gratefully before stepping away.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

She studied me with narrowed eyes. “Why do you feel the need to read me?” she countered coldly. “Do you anticipate me to lie or something?”

I willed my magic down, and my eyes, I knew, shifted to their normal icy blue. “No,” I answered honestly. “l just like to know how you’re feeling—how others are feeling,” I quickly added, looking back to my drink. “Though it is true, most people do not say what they mean. I navigate people better when I feel what they feel.”

A moment passed, and I tensed when she placed her hand on mine, her tan starkly contrasting my pale skin. When my gaze shifted to her, she wore a small smile. The bartender slid her drinkto Era and hurried away. Era kept her eyes on mine and said, “I don’t mind it.”

I raised my brow and decided to test her by reading her again.

She means it. And when she looks at me, she feels…

I felt myself flush slightly. I gave her a tight smile and sipped my drink.

How am I supposed to remain friendly toward her when I can feel how badly she wants me, too?

Her hand gently slid away, and she held her martini glass as she surveyed the room, sucking in that delicious bottom lip.

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