Page 93 of The Sins of Silas

I stared at him momentarily, and he refused to meet my eyes.

I was confused, wanting an explanation, but I was too exhausted to argue. “Then we need to cut off the sleeve.”

He nodded, looking at the ground as I pulled out my dagger and cut away the material on his shoulder.

I pulled the bloodied rags off, discarding them on the ground for now, and swore when I examined the laceration that trailed from his bicep down half of his forearm. If magic were not here, he would need plenty of stitches. Thank the Gods, no arteries were hit.

I sat beside him on the bench, then closed my palm over his open wound. He sucked in a breath at the pain.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. A healing golden glow began emitting from my palm. First, I needed to repair any muscle that had been severed. Then, I could roam my hand over the rest of the wound to heal it entirely.

Silas just sat in silence, watching the ground. The sounds surrounding us were horrid…sobbing, groaning. Who would've guessed the joyful kingdom we arrived in would be like this just a few days later?

“I know that couldn’t have been easy for you,” I said softly.

His breathing was uneven. “I knew them all, some closely.” He winced as I moved my grip upward. “I led them countless times, fought beside them…”

'None of them joined me'was left unspoken.

“Your father instilled so much fear in them, probably even more so after you left. I’m sure most wished to follow you.”

“If that were the case, at least some of them would have joined us," he muttered. "Even one of them.”

He was weary, so incredibly fatigued, emotionally and physically. I thought back to the panic in his eyes before I froze a wall around us…before I ceased my fire usage.

That trauma, that stress…it was caused by me. By my death. I knew it.

“Silas?”

He angled his head toward me, his golden eyes glassy and wholly drained. “If you hadn’t been there with my people in Ames,” I said carefully, “I do not believe any of them would have allowed us to save Edmund. I believe every one of my people would be dead.”

His eyes bounced between mine, and I took my free hand and gently slid it against his shoulder. “And I don’t think that would be because I wasn’t a leader worth following. Sometimes, the situation is…just what it is. And if it wasn’t for our history…” I chewed on my lip, then shook my head. “Your people will come around. I’m sure of it.”

He sighed softly, then averted his gaze. I healed him in silence for a few more moments.

“You saved Leroy,” I said quietly.

He shook his head slowly. “There’s no saving him from this loss.”

I stiffened, my heart sinking at the depleted look on Silas’s face. He’d suffered this loss before and knew all it entailed.

I did this to him.

Just as I went to express regret for all I'd put him through, he turned his head to me. “You hold so much power,” he breathed.

I wasn’t expecting that response. I blinked. “My magic surfaced when I was incredibly young. I’ve always felt it, reserved in me like water behind a dam. I think after so many years, I’ve learned how to hold it in without it harming me.” I swallowed. “On the flip side, however,when I do fully let it out, it can be hard to reel it back.”

“Is it like that for everyone?”

My eyes went to the ground. “Everything has a cost, and magic always has a price. I do feel mine is…wilder than others. More untamed.”

When I met his eyes, my brows raised when I noticed no judgment in his stare.

Slightly, ever so slightly, did the corner of his mouth raise. “That is no surprise. You've always been a spitfire, Flower.”

The beating in my chest skipped, my cheeks heating in response to my nickname.

“What was that powder they blew?” I asked.

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