As each moment passes with Silas tonight, I’m more convinced he’s never had honest intentions. Is there anything about him redeemable? “I thought you said I had my magic stolen. If that’s true, then how are you able to get anything from drinking my blood?” I ask him.
He gives me a brief glance before consulting one of his tombs. “You misunderstood me. I said it would’ve been stolen if I didn’t save you. You’re actually quite powerful, your blood gives off such a rush of magic. It’s been hard to wait for you to leave the times you gave me blood before.” He continues on like his confessions won’t matter. For some reason this fact causes more dread in me than anything else he’s done so far.
“Why didn’t you ever teach me how to use my magic if you knew I had it all this time?” If he’s answering questions, might as well take advantage. Maybe it’ll distract him long enough for me to figure a way out of this.
He expels a long exasperated sigh before answering, “Clearly I wouldn’t want you to learn how to use a crippled version of the magic. After tonight, we’ll have freed all magic and I’ll teach you how to use it to its full potential. Until then, it’s best if you just let me borrow the use of your magic.” Free the magic? What is he going on about now?
Before I can ask, we are interrupted by two of my soldiers barging into the room, each one carrying a body, which they unceremoniously drop to the ground. They’re both wearing bruises and a few cuts like they were just in a fight, and won out over the bodies on the ground. “Did you encounter any problems?” Silas asks, before they turn around.
“They gave us a bit of a fight, but we have an excellent trainer,” the first soldier, Frank, says, indicating my training of them. Silas gives a grunt and waves a hand for them to go as he walks to the bodies on the ground. I can’t be sure from here if they’re dead or not. When he reaches them, he kicks them until they’re flat on their backs.
“Come help me get them strung up so we can drain their blood.” My legs immediately do what he says, like I’m his puppet and his words are the strings controlling my movements. When I’m close enough to see their faces, I give another desperate fight to take control back of my body. It’s Baxter and Frances, Cecily’s lifelong guards who she loves like family.
How’s it even possible for our soldiers to overpower them, when her two guards are well trained in protection with magic. Clearly, my men ended up fighting them hand to hand, but they shouldn’t be able to stand up against the use of magic against them. If her guards are here, where is Cecily?
Silas and I pick up Baxter first and affix him to the rack closest to us, and then complete the same for Frances on the rack next to the first. I give a small thanks to the Fates, they’re already dead... I’m not sure how I’d be able to admit to Cecily I was here when it happened, and was able to do nothing to stop it. With our actions done, I find I can control my body again. I’m relieved to find the control isn’t permanent.
With my newfound freedom, I make a mad dash to the door, trying to make my escape while I can. “Stop,” he says with a cool collected demeanor without even glancing my way. He had been waiting for the moment, wanting to mock me with the control he holds over me. My feet immediately stop moving, my top half wobbling with the sudden end of forward momentum.
“I have to say, I’m disappointed in you, Marcellus. I thought you wanted to be a part of my plans, a part of something bigger than yourself. Something all of our kind will worship you for. Why would you want to leave? Oh, and no more trying to escape me, you can’t leave this room until the control your blood gave me wears off.” Oh, so it’s my actual blood giving him control, not any use of magic he gained from my blood. A little too late, but it’s good to know. Now I just need to make sure he’s never able to use me in this way again.
Remembering he asked a question, I quickly try to think of a way to respond. “Of course I want to help you, Uncle, although I don’t appreciate you trying to use my body to complete your commands without allowing me to do it on my own.” He seems to contemplate my words.
With a flip of his hand, like he can’t be bothered with the thought any longer, he says, “It’s just easier this way, you understand, don’t you.” It’s a foregone statement, not a question. He thinks of me as just a tool he can use, not as someone who could help him at all. More and more, his true nature is being displayed. “Take a seat in the corner until I need you,” he once again commands my body into movement.
I take a seat at the work table and grab a clean cloth to wrap my hand with, seeing as the cut is beginning to sting. Silas grabs the same knife I used to slice my hand for him. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so betrayed in my life. He takes the knife over to the two bodies on the racks; at this point, they’re hanging upside down. He’s placed a bowl under each one of them.
With sure movements, he slices across each of their necks. A move so practiced, I’m certain he’s done this many times before. I can’t decide if I’m happy he’s never involved me, or if I wish he did so I would’ve had an idea of what kind of person he was a long time ago. Long enough ago to protect my mate from him.
Blood seeps from each of the cuts, not yet slowed from the bodies cooling after death. It slowly drips down their faces and into the bowls below them. Her two guards don’t deserve this kind of treatment. They were good men with families who’ll miss them. They did nothing wrong, they were devoted to protecting our future Queen from anyone who would harm her. Silas is just standing here, watching the blood slowly dripping.
My heart gives an answering thud to a question only Cecily could ask. She briefly described the bond to me, and I’m convinced that’s what I’m feeling right now. No Darling, don’t come for me. Each thud of my heart feels like a footstep she’s taken closer to me. As I concentrate on the sensation I recognize more information it’s feeding me. Like her concern coming through. She’s worried about me and how long it’s been since I left her.
I’m not sure how this works, but I try to send her encouragement to just leave here, there’s nothing good to come if she keeps pursuing her search for me. The moment she arrives is clear to me. Not just because I could feel her coming closer like a string getting shorter, but because Silas perks up. An abnormal, unsettling joy crosses his face.
The first sound I hear from her is a whimper as she recognizes her guards. Silas takes a few steps toward the doorway. “Ah, you finally found us! Please come in, we’ve been waiting for you. Marcellus, look who’s here.” How was he so sure she would come down here? I get up with his subtle command.
The moment she sees me, she comes running right into my arms. My heart skips a beat with her reaction... a reaction only caused by the sight she brings and my love for her.I love her.Why am I realizing this in the worst moment possible? My arms tighten around her. Why did she have to come find me? I want her to be far far away from here.
“You shouldn’t have come, Cecily. I wish you had left me and run home as fast as you could’ve.” My words are rushed, I don’t know how long I have before Silas takes my ability away to say what I want... maybe I should’ve said I love her. I’m not stupid enough to believe she can escape now. Especially not with Silas between her and the door. I’m sure he’s given commands for his people to watch for her escape as well. Now I’m concerned about what kind of plans he has involving her.
Silas’ eyes narrow at my hold of her and he issues his next command, “Marcellus, silently help our guest into the seat of honor. We have some big plans to get started on.” And there it is, his command to keep me from speaking to her. He’s taken the only way I have of letting her know I don’t want any of this to happen.
My feet lead us over to the chair I was previously sitting in, and I guide her into sitting on it. She’s in a daze, in shock from seeing her guards dead and being drained of blood. The moment I pull out some rope to tie her with and grab her hand, she finally snaps out of her dazed state. That’s my girl! She starts to fight me off, and while I can’t show her outwardly, I’m cheering her on with the encouragements in my head.
“What are you doing, Marcellus?” There’s panic in her voice. Good. She’s starting to realize she can’t trust me. It pains me, but I would rather her not trust me, than for something to happen to her. Fight me, Princess. Get away, my love. She tries her best, but there isn’t much she can do with my body blocking her from getting out of the chair.
My grip on her is tight, a punishing hold which I have no control over. Why does she have to believe I want to do this to her? My heart feels like it’s shredding with every unsuccessful attempt she makes at trying to escape. Fight me, Darling, fight harder! Use your magic, anything and everything you can to get away!
“Marcellus, answer me, please! What’s going on? Let me go!” She’s desperate for me to answer, and yet Silas ensured I couldn’t. He appears to be enjoying her panic and pain. A pain which matches my own, along with sorrow and regret for so many things I should’ve done differently.
I’m successful in securing her hands to the chair, and her body goes rigid with the sound of Silas’ voice. “All of my plans are coming to fruition. I never thought I would get such an opportunity such as this though.” He comes to stand in front of her, moving me out of his way. I wish I could see his face, to possibly get an idea of what his plans are.
“Marcellus, sit over there and don’t say a word. Don’t move until I give you further instructions,” he points to another chair within the room, a chair on the opposite side from my Cecily. No matter how many times I fail, I still continue to try and fight off his commands. Maybe I’ll be able to eventually figure out a way to get around it.
Now I’m the one in a daze. How can I get Cecily out of this? Silas hasn’t drunk any of her blood, so he didn’t gain control over her body. Why didn’t he just command me to hold her while he got some of her blood to control her? He must have some other plan. Or he really does just get a perverse pleasure out of her terror and pain.
Silas is spewing crazed thoughts which I barely follow along with, so lost in my own swirling madness. Anger lights my nerve endings as Silas trails a finger along her cheek. I want to shout at him to not touch my girl. To get away from her and to stop his taunting. I want to demand why he’s doing this to her, to me, to us!
