Page 207 of The Sins of Silas

She frowned. “I…your mother told me.” Gears appeared to be turning in her mind, but she shook her head. “Anyway, I remembered the painting title.” Her green gaze slid to me. “Rebirth.”

My brows drew together. “As in the God of Rebirth?”

“I think so.” She focused on the steps before us; there was still a ways to go before we reached the top. “Your mother had told me her father had it commissioned in Faltrun. Well, when I was investigating the art shop in town, I saw that it had a sister painting titled Purification.”

I swore.

“I know,” she agreed. “The crazy part? Your mother's father titled the paintings and came up with the descriptions.” She was a few steps ahead of me when she halted, turning to face me. “It makes no sense. Why did Ramiel commission paintings that reference two of the new Gods? Why are those new Gods symbolized in the Otacian crest?”

My eyes flicked between hers. “I wish I knew.”

She chewed on her lip, eyes dropping. “Asael Nefeli is the name of the painter. Apparently, Ramiel came back to Faltrun last year and said something that had Asael fleeing to Halsted and becoming a part of their army.” Her eyes flicked back to me. “And apparently, he told him to…to save me.”

Goosebumps spread across my skin. “Save you? From what?”

“Hell, if I know.” She turned, continuing up the steps, boots clicking as they touched each one. “I don't know how Ramiel knew of me…unless your Mother told him of me, told him my name.”

“But why would she think you in danger? Other than at the time, the obvious.”

Lena stopped again. She looked over her shoulder. “What do you mean, the obvious? She didn't know I was a Mage.”

“I know. But she knew of our relationship, one that would not be accepted.”

Her brows drew together, eyes going to the floor before she resumed walking.

“No matter, it doesn't make sense for her to tell her father about it, especially if the man wasn’t really present in her life. Where does she hail from, by the way?”

“Eretesia. I'd assume my grandfather still resides there.”

It was quiet between us for a minute. “Your mother was a good woman. Perhaps her father, too, disagreed with the treatment of my kind. Perhaps he, too, was a witch sympathizer.”

“Doubtful he remained one, considering how she was killed,” I muttered bitterly, feeling a little winded after walking up so many steps despite how fit I was. When we finally reached the pronaos, thankfully clear of bodies, I grasped her hand.

She stilled, nervous eyes flitting up to mine.

“We need to talk about last night.”

Swallowing, she pulled her hand away. “There are more pressing matters, Silas, than where I was. Why do you even care?”

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair, then let out a dry laugh. “Are you really asking me that?” I dropped my hand, stepped closer, and backed her into the hallway's wall. I closed in, placing my palms on the concrete on either side of her head.

“I shouldn't have reacted that way afterward.” I acknowledged gently. “I shouldn't have left you in tears. I don't loathe you, not at all, Lena. I loathe the situation we are in. I loathe how I feel because it would be so much easier to feel nothing for you at all.”

Her eyes turned to saucers. “S-Silas…what are you—”

“I love you so damn much,” I breathed, my face falling. “Itkillsme not being able to have you. It kills me to think that could be the last time I ever make love to you and that I left you in such a way afterward.”

I'd never seen such widened eyes on Lena's face. Her head slowly shook back and forth. “I…what…when—”

“You don't have to say anything.” I pushed off the wall, stepping back. “I just…I'm sorry, Lena.”

I sighed through my nose, head falling, and ambled toward the Sanctuary.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

MERRICK

Iwas a ball of unreleased nerves as Torrin and I began our descent underneath this temple, Torrin's fire hovering over his palm our only source of light. The temperature dropped with every step, and I feared what we'd discover down here.

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