Page 38 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

“How do you know it was Eros that Vincent shared me with?”

Sterling gave a bemused tut of a laugh as if we were talking about something casual and not at all perverted. “I can scent him between your legs, darling.” Before I could pick apart the pieces of my brain after a line like that, another deep and sultry growl rolled from my silver prince. It was the same mating call he’d made earlier.

The thing inside me stirred and once again came barreling to the surface. This time, I didn’t stop her.

I was getting used to the pain of the shift. It was quick—barely more than a pinch now. My claws grew from my fingertips, raking down Sterling’s back from where I gripped his shoulders. My hair whipped around me as a powerful gust of energy swept through me.

It had always been there.

Ready to answer my call.

Now it felt completely different.

You couldn’t wield a tool without knowing what it did. Simply knowing it was there, knowing the parameters of my capabilities and how there were basically none, made a world of difference in my ability to leverage it.

I didn’t have to think or drum my fingers against his temple or do a yoga pose to “get in the zone.” I could feel our bond reaching for me. All I had to do was grasp it.

Surging forward, I brought my lips crashing down against his in an earth-quaking kiss. The force of it knocked the bench over, sending us clattering to the floor. We hit the ground hard.

With his arms wrapped around me, Sterling broke my fall with his body. But he didn’t meet the rug of his den. His back met a dirt floor.

I bolted upright, scanning our new surroundings. And my heart sank straight through my core, down to where I straddled my priest. It worked. I was inside my mate’s head. I’d thrown us into his mind, and we’d landed smack dab in his memory of the night he’d met the vampire king.

The only difference now was that I wasn’t seeing it through Thomas Knight’s eyes. I was seeing it through my own. Past-Sterling was on his hands and knees, reaching for Catherine from the crate where the vampire king had her pinned.

I watched the scene for a second time, only it ended before Catherine said Julian’s name. The room went black. “What is happening? Where is the rest of the memory?” I whispered.

“My memory of that night ends there.”

There was a strange quality to Sterling’s voice that made me turn my attention back to Present-Sterling, who lay beneath me.

His moonstone orbs were more breathtaking than ever. There was something different about them. Sterling wasn’t the most expressive of my princes as far as facial expressions went. Now, he wore his emotions plainly on his face.

His entire visage was that of a recipient of a biblical miracle. Pure elation and joy and reverie. Like he was seeing the face of God.

Then it hit me. That was it. He was looking at me. Right at me. His empty stare had always been just a hair off the mark, but now his pupils flicked around as he drowned in my features.

In the dark of his mind, burrowed deep in one of his darkest memories, we’d found light.

Sterling could see me.

For the very first time, he was really, truly looking at me. My heart thundered, and my breathing splintered when he reached for me. I leaned into his hands, my tears of joy soaking his fingers.

For a few beats that stretched on for a nameless amount of time, there was no need to talk. I knew what to do. I felt so connected to him at this moment, as if we were one. That’s all there was to shifting the world around us, to replaying the memory. This time, I showed him the version I’d seen through my father’s eyes.

The silver prince’s gaze drifted away from me, taking in a whole new angle to that horrible night. Gripping his head, I guided his attention back to me. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” I said, repeating what his past self had said to Catherine in almost perfect unison.

He clamped his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the nightmare. “Ruby. M–make it stop.”

“Hold on for a little longer,” I said through a hum of a growl meant to comfort. “You don’t need to look. Listen.”

A few tense moments passed, then the vampire king uttered the words I’d been waiting for. “Tell me your name, priest.”

Sterling of the present slowly opened his eyes as the voice of his mortal self answered the question, his name echoing through the past.

When the memory’s audio faded, my priest gaped up at me in quiet shock. Unblinking, he didn’t look away. Then, tears beaded at the corners of his eyes as he donned a radiant, disbelieving expression.

“My name is Julian.”

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