Page 283 of The Sins of Silas

The journey to Halsted took three days, days that passed like years and like seconds at the same time. The townspeople scrutinized us in disgust as they peeked inside our carriage.

I couldn't care less what they thought of us.

Merrick was dead.

Hendry was dead.

Silas…

I shook my head to banish away the tears. I was surprised any remained after how much I had cried.

Silas was dead. There was no possible way he had survived the Undead's curse.

I clenched my fists tightly, unable to wield magic as Otacian cuffs bound my wrists.

I still couldn’t accept it. I cried as I pictured how he must've suffered in his final moments.

How did I fuck up this badly? It was seen that Silas would determine the fate of Magekind…how could he do that dead?

Dead…

I thought back to what Kayin had said in Temple Tithara.

“I wish things could go differently.”

She cried as she had me tell Silas how much she loved him. She knew of his fate, didn't she?

You will not break.

I would kill KingUlric. I would kill every soldier who chose to obey him. I didn’t care if they had families. I didn’t care if it would scar my soul. Nothing mattered anymore except seeking revenge and freeing my people and innocent humans from this man’s reign—thismonster.

Once my duty was complete, I would join Silas in the afterlife.

Until then, I could not break.

I was shoved into a dank, dark cell only lit by two oil lamps. I was light-headed, and my mouth was dry due to three days without food or water.

I was chained to a chair. About to be interrogated, no doubt.

When a soldier entered the room, I debated finding a way to snap his neck. But when I saw he carried water in his hand, I refrained from any attempt. Not that I really had a chance of successfully doing so.

I didn't recognize him from our travels. His deep green hair flipped out from where it rested along his jawline; his whiskey eyes narrowed as he stepped over with a waterskin.

“Thank you,” I rasped before I tilted my head back, guzzling down the water as he poured it into my mouth.

I couldn't wait to kill him and every soldier here.

“The prisoners hardly get fed,” he said simply. “When you are given food, I recommend hiding some of it and spreading it out over the course of a few days.”

I gave him a fake smile. “Thanks for the advice,”I muttered.

“Asael!” Someone pounded on my cell door, and the green-haired man tilted his gaze back. “Cedric will be down any minute. Will you be joining him?”

My Gods.

“I'll be out in a second,” Asael responded, and the man outside the door grunted before his steps could be heard fading away.

“Asael…” I breathed. “Asael Nefeli?”

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