The Sins of Silas

Book 0: The Otacian Chronicles

by Kylie Snow

Genres: Fantasy Romance; New Adult Romance

Synopsis

In this second book in the spicy and heart-wrenching dark romantasy series, one mage must unite forces with her cruel enemy—and first love—while fighting the growing angst and passion between them.

Five years ago, Silas La’Rune lost everything. After the deaths of his mother and Lena Daelyra, the love of his life, something in Silas changed, turning him into a cold, merciless man. His sole purpose became eradicating the kind he believed responsible for those deaths. Witches. Silas, known to the people of Tovagoth as “The Slayer of Witches,” ended lives without remorse. Until one day, he raided a Mage village and saw her.

Turns out Lena was very much alive. Not only that, but she herself is a witch—a Mage. Yet, despite his anger and hatred for the Mages, Silas showed mercy when he met eyes with the woman he once loved. Now the two have joined forces, wishing to recruit allies to not only overthrow Ulric La’Rune, the King of Otacia, but to destroy the necromancer that terrorizes the land.

But every glance between Silas and Lena serves as a reminder of the past when they were tangled beneath the sheets, lost in each other’s embrace. Silas can’t be with Lena, can’t hold her in his arms or feel her lips against his...because he's a married man now. But despite his commitment to another, he can’t get his first love out of his mind. While they hide their history from others, will Lena and Silas be able to battle their rising feelings for one another?

The Otacian Chronicles is a dark romantasy that will progressively get darker as the series continues. Please be mindful of the content warnings below and protect your mental health.

This book is a triple-POV action-packed dark romantasy novel filled with romantic tension, sexy banter, and heartbreak. It also contains explicit sexual scenes, explicit language, violence, gore, torture, burns/burning, miscarriage, child death, rape, sexual assault, infidelity, panic attacks, hallucinations, poisoning, enslavement, drug use, suicidal ideation, homophobia, physical and mental abuse, grief, loss, and character death. 

Release date: August 19, 2025

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 784

Sample

Iawoke to swollen eyes, just as I had the past few nights, and cursed myself when I peered at the clock resting on my nightstand.

6:50 a.m. The council meeting begins in just ten minutes.

Flinging off the comforter cocooning me, I hurried to the bathroom sink, soaking a rag with cold water and wringing it out. I held it to my eyes in an attempt to lessen the puffiness.

It was no surprise I looked this way; I had cried myself to sleep the past couple of nights…ever since my mother was murdered. Last night, I had woken from my sleep in a cold sweat, chest heaving, heart pounding.

Something had felt off. Strange. I didn't know what, but the uneasy sensation made it difficult to fall back asleep.

I pressed the rag to my other swollen eye. The King would not be pleased to witness such weakness. I could only hope he wouldn’t be able to tell I had been crying.

I often wondered if the man had a soul. I hadn’t seen him shed a single tear since Mother’s passing. Though that wasn’t entirely alarming…I had never seen my father cry my entire life.

My thoughts drifted to Lena, how it felt holding her last night. Her body against mine, how it felt to kiss her.

I wanted her to be at my side in this castle. I wanted to sleep beside her every night, holding her close. But I hated the thought of her risking her life to see me. It was still unclear if the danger had entirely been eliminated, and I found myself wishing for her to stay away for a while—just until we knew it was secure again. I couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to her.

I scrubbed at my face in frustration. How was I going to ensure our future together? Mother had completely supported our relationship, but now she was gone. The King would never accept Lena as Otacia’s princess and future queen.

I placed the cloth down, my eyes looking only slightly less swollen, and was startled by a knock on the door.

“The meeting has begun, Your Highness,” Daerin, one of our guards, informed through the door. “The King is not pleased.”

“I’ll be out momentarily,” I called out.

Strange. Usually, it was Torrin who would fetch me.

I chucked off my lounge pants as I heard the steps retreating from my door, then dressed in my fine clothes: a tunic adorned with silver embroidery, trousers that fit tightly against the muscles in my legs, and boots. All were black—the color I wore most days.

Lastly, I placed my silver crown atop my head and studied myself in the mirror beside my bed. The sapphires set in it sparkled from the morning sun filtering into my room.

My hair isn’t neat enough, and my damn eyes…

I raked my hands down my face.

I didn’t recognize myself most days anymore. Aside from these swollen eyes, wearing these clothes…this crown…it all felt heavy. Too heavy.

I wished I could be an ordinary man…wished I didn’t have these responsibilities. All I desired was to be with Lena, to live, not just go through the motions as I had every day before meeting the fiery, red-headed beauty.

The corner of my mouth went up at the thought of her. It would be her birthday in just five days. Though I had recently given her my mother’s necklace, I still wished to surprise her with something else. I’d pondered various ideas last night, but nothing had stuck out. I’d gifted her several gowns already, and I had just given her jewelry, so earrings seemed uninspired.

Perhaps I could purchase a new weapon for her, or I could write her a poem…though I am not very talented in that regard.

I’d actually written her a handful of poems and letters since I met her, but I still hadn’t found the courage to give them to her. I had no problem professing my love in person…but I found myself feeling nervous at the thought of her reading such vulnerable words. I kept them tucked safely under my mattress. I'd give them to her eventually.

So, what else could I gift her?

Lena would always protest whenever I spoiled her, but regardless, her pleas would not sway me. She deserved more than what life had given her thus far.

If only I could turn back the clock and enjoy just one more day outside these castle walls, I would take her to a nice restaurant or even spend another afternoon in the forest lying together, watching the clouds pass through the tree branches. I just wanted one more day of going unnoticed, one more day of experiencing what others perceived as ordinary moments. They were anything but ordinary to me.

I sighed as I exited my quarters, navigating the various white hallways. Had it always been so prosaic and dull in this place? Had it always lacked color and vibrancy?

I was approaching the war room when I saw Finnan with his ear pressed to the black, wooden door.

I suppressed a chuckle, but it came out anyway when I placed a hand on the ten-year-old’s shoulder, causing him to jump higher than I knew possible for a human.

He clutched his chest, respiring heavily. “You startled me, Your Highness!”

I raised a brow at him, a smile still on my face. “Are you supposed to be eavesdropping?”

Finnan gave a half-grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Probably not.”

Finnan was the son of Emerson, one of my father’s generals. He also happened to be a part of the dreadful meeting being held behind this door.

I ruffled the kid’s brown hair, then finally entered the war room, shutting the door behind me and walking toward the group gathered of Otacia’s most elite.

Father was sitting at the head of the massive wooden table, stroking his short, black beard as he glowered at the map laid out before him. This room was as gloomy as they come, a stark contrast to the all-white walls just outside. The stone in here was unpainted, and nothing but the large window behind my father provided natural light. The Otacian flag, in our colors navy, black, and silver, was flowing due to the morning breeze blowing in.

“It is a terrible tragedy,” Rurik expressed blandly. “But do you think it is connected, Your Majesty?”

Just as Daerin had said, the meeting had already begun. I was to receive a slap for that, I’m sure. I quickly seated myself further down the table. I may be the Prince, but to my father, I had not earned the right to sit beside him.

These meetings had been going on daily since Mother’s assassination. Usually for hours at a time. Going over possible threats and connections—brainstorming ways to lure Mages without harming our soldiers.

I hated all of it.

I hated witches, too. Hated that the guilt I felt for setting Amatta on fire was but a speck in the back of my mind.

Did that make me just as much a monster as she? That I could end her life and feel nothing at all?

“How would killing two Outer Ring women be connected?” Emerson asked with lowered brows.

To that, my eyes shot up, my heartbeat quickening. “What did you say?” I asked, sitting straighter in my seat. “What happened?”

The King slowly lifted his glare to me. “You would know if you had been here on time, Silas.”

His flat tone sent chills down my spine. Just as I was about to press on the matter, Emerson spoke.

“Arson in the Outer Ring. A cottage was set on fire in the middle of the night while a woman and her daughter were inside.”

My stomach sank so hard that I felt I’d be sick. I attempted to school my expression, lowering my trembling hands to my lap.

No.

It was just a coincidence. It had to be. The Outer Ring had thousands of residents. It could’ve been anyone.

“Also, Brighthell is nowhere to be found.”

Torrin is missing?

“Has the place been investigated yet?” I pushed. As much as I cared for Torrin, Lena’s well-being was my main concern. “Are the citizens alive?"

“We had a handful of soldiers go down to confirm the fire itself, but the investigative crew is about to head out as we speak.”

Instantly, I stood, my chair’s legs dragging against the floor, making an unpleasant screech.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the King demanded through his teeth.

I took in a shaky breath as my father narrowed his eyes at me. “I wish to investigate, Your Majesty,” I responded calmly. “If a Mage truly did this…”

If a witch hurt Lena…

“The experience could be good for him, Your Majesty,” Emerson interposed. He was perhaps the only person in this room that I liked.

My father studied me for a moment more before ultimately conceding. “Very well. See what you can discover, Silas.”

I gave him a grateful nod, then rushed to meet with the soldiers about to head out. After questioning a handful of men if there were any casualties and being provided no answer, I decided to remain silent.

Arming myself with my sword, I mounted Sable, my ebony horse, and made my way toward the Outer Ring.

A pit was in my chest the entire time.

It is some other house. It has to be.

I took slow and steady breaths, preparing myself as we turned the corner before Lena’s home.

And I nearly collapsed at the sight of her house.

No.

It was charred…burnt. Although citizens had successfully extinguished the fire, the smoke from the aftermath was still swirling toward the sky.

Instantly, I pulled the reins, squeezing my legs and pushing my hips forward to race my horse toward the house.

“Your Highness!” one of the soldiers called, but I ignored him.

She is alive. She must be alive.

I quickly scrambled off Sable and dashed up to the front door.

“You shouldn’t go in, Your Highness,” a soldier insisted as he halted me, holding his palms out. “It isn’t healthy to breathe in these fumes.”

“Out of my way,” I seethed, and the soldier’s eyes went wide. I was always a kind, respectful prince. I had never ordered anyone around.

He quickly nodded as he stepped out of my path.

I loosened a breath at the state of Lena’s living room and kitchen as I entered. The soldier handed me an oil lamp—the soot covering the walls, the windows, everything, made it so there was hardly any natural light.

Hold in the emotion. Don’t let them see.

I needed to ask if they survived. The soldiers here knew the answer. But the words wouldn’t come out.

I slowly crept toward Lena’s room, my heartbeat pounding against my chest.

Please…please…

The door was just slightly cracked. I froze for a moment, hand on the knob.

Please be okay…

Finally, I forced myself to step inside…and time stilled. A muffled cry left my lips when I saw what lay in her bed.

No.

“This is a hard sight for anyone to see, Your Highness.”

No. No. No.

He cleared his throat. “I insist, these fumes—”

“Leave me,” my voice cracked. “Shut the door behind me and leave.”

The soldier’s brow furrowed. “Your Highness—”

“I wish to say a prayer in private,” I whispered. “Please.”

His eyes bounced between mine, and he gently nodded, retreating as he closed the door to give me privacy.

As I slowly turned to her, my face crumpled. I was frozen for a long while, unable to believe what was before me. Aside from the orange glow coming from my lamp, the room was nearly pitch black…and eerily silent.

When I finally brought myself to move, my steps felt heavy. I knelt at her side.

“Lena…” I cried softly, unable to restrain my body’s trembling. “No…no…”

I placed the oil lamp on the ground beside me. Her hair was gone—those beautiful copper waves disintegrated by the flames. Her face was hardly recognizable.

But it was her.

It was her.

I sobbed quietly as I brushed my fingertips on what was left of her cheek, and at the feeling of her dead body, I wept.

I couldn’t get enough air, and it had nothing to do with the smoke. In fact, I wished the fumes would suffocate me, wished they’d take me to wherever she now was.

My best friend.

The love of my life.

Lena.

My eyes trailed over her neck, then darted to her hand.

My mother’s necklace, the ring I had given her…someone fucking stole them!

I thought I had felt rage when Mother died, but this? Was this the work of witches? Did they see her climb up to the castle? See her with me?

Was this to punish me? Was it part of their plan? Or was it just some lowlifes looking to steal?

Sweat dripped down my body as I attempted to regulate my breathing.

“You cannot let your will to live be tied to me, Silas. To anyone.”

I shook my head as I recalled her final words to me. “You cannot leave me,” I wept quietly. “I need you. My life has no meaning without you.”

“Because life is unfair, and tragedy can happen at any time.”

I cried harder. I placed a kiss on her forehead, my tears dripping onto her burnt corpse. It was morbid…but it was Lena. My Lena.

“You will not give up.”

“I can’t…Lena,” I sobbed.

“You will not break.”

I struggled to breathe as I pictured her face. Her beautiful green eyes…her radiant smile.

“Promise me.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t accept this. I don’t accept it.” I kissed her forehead again, holding my lips on her as I attempted to pull myself together.

There was a knock on the door, and a faint voice asked, “Are you finished, Your Highness?”

I withdrew, holding what was left of her face, taking note of every horrific detail, as painful as it was.

“I will always love you.” My trembling hand lowered to hold what remained of hers as I whispered, “I will find you in the afterlife, Lena. I promise.”

Mother had taught me of the Gods, insisting I know all I could about them. At the feel of my lover's corpse, I didn’t know if I believed in such a fantasy anymore. Still, I found myself silently praying to Ravaiana, the Goddess of Life.

Please provide Lena peace. Please tell her how much I love her. Tell her how special she is. How…

I choked on a sob again as there was another knock on the door, more urgent this time.

“Just a second!” I rasped, then resumed my prayer.

Tell her that I will find out who did this to her and that I won’t rest until there is justice. I know nothing of the afterlife, nothing about prayers…but please, if you haven’t already, provide her safe passage into Elysium. Tell her I will be with her again…and that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

I didn’t know if I deserved to go to Elysium…to heaven. I had already killed four men, evil as they were. I had killed Amatta, too. But the entire universe would have to conspire against me if there was a sliver of a chance for my soul to find hers again.

“I will find you,” I murmured to her. “I will find you, Flower. I will find you.”

One last kiss, and I rose, wiping my eyes and catching my breath.

I just needed to last until I was in my room. Then I could let go.

I retrieved my lamp, then clutched the knob and turned, making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone and everyone. I ignored their expressions of concern, making my way to mount Sable and head home.

I waited for the men to conclude their search, and while I did, I went over the past couple of days, analyzing every little thing.

Lena didn’t have many belongings to warrant a theft so extreme. Aside from a few gowns, the necklace and ring were probably all they had of value.

Witches. It had to be witches.

They saw what we did—what I did to Amatta. They must’ve had a spy watching me, saw how much Lena meant to me, and killed her to make things even.

I grasped the reins in anguish. She should’ve never come to my room.

This is all my fault.

I could see now that they targeted Lena as an act of revenge, but why Mother? What was their play?

And what were they planning next?

I took in the weather, the bright blue sky, the shining sun. How could the day be so beautiful? How could the world go on like it was nothing when she had suffered so? How was the universe itself not in mourning?

The sky should be grey, rain pouring, thundering cracking as if the Gods themselves were weeping over such a loss.

I barely managed to make it back to the castle in one piece, rushing to my bedroom the second I dismounted Sable. I was silent for a moment when I shut the door behind me. Frozen.

Lena is dead.

Lena is dead.

Lena is dead.

I made it only a few steps before I collapsed to my knees, clutching my chest.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn’t think.

All I could see was her burned, stiff body. All I could smell was the smoke. All I could hear was Amatta’s scream, imagining that Lena’s cries sounded the same as her life was taken away by flame.

I finally let go completely, wailing into my hands.

“You will not break.”

How could she ask that of me? How could she believe it was even possible?

I am broken. I am nothing without her by my side.

I jolted when my door swung open. Turning with fearful eyes, I watched as my father shut my bedroom door behind him.

“You fucking child,” he seethed, charging toward me. “Crying over some peasants like a pathetic infant.” He gripped the collar of my shirt roughly, pulling me to my feet. “I was told how you acted today. You are an embarrassment.”

I glared at him with hatred, tears streaming down my face. “They weren’t just some peasants,” I spat.

He released my shirt, flinging me back. I stumbled but kept myself from falling.

“Be relieved it was someone from the Outer Ring and not someone of importance,” he said simply.

I was full of rage—so much rage.

How dare he.

How fucking dare he.

I didn’t think; I just acted. I reeled my arm back and swung my fist across his face.

It made a sickening sound, and pain shot through my knuckles on impact. As scared as I was for what was to come, it felt fucking good inflicting pain on him.

My father slowly curved his head back toward me, touching his now-busted lip, blood coating his fingertips. His malicious gaze met mine, and I watched as he pulled out a dagger.

His voice was dark as he growled, “That will be the last time you disrespect me.”

My limbs shook, and my eyes bulged as my father swung at me with his dagger. I dodged quickly, but he persisted. The King was a lot of things—terrible things—but a poor fighter was not one of them.

I managed to dodge his blows until his final swing was successful, and I hissed as the steel blade dragged from just above my lip and up my left cheek.

I grunted as I drew away, my fingertips skimming the blood now coursing down my face.

My father’s voice was clipped as he wiped his blade, tucking it back into his side. “See to it that you get stitches.” He clicked his tongue. “That’s going to leave a nasty scar.”

I glared at him, shaking with contempt as my blood dribbled onto the marble floor.

His black eyes scrutinized me with distaste, his lip curling. “Perhaps it shall serve as a reminder. Every time you see your imperfect flesh, I want you to remember just how much of a disappointment you really are.”

And with those final words, he left.

I loosened my exhale and gradually stepped to my vanity mirror, blinking at the split open skin, at the trail of red dripping under my chin and down my shirt. My father had slapped me, had punched me…but never had he cut me. The wound burned, I imagined, but no physical pain could outdo the mental.

I want you to remember how much of a disappointment you really are.

I had failed. I had failed my mother. I had failed Minerva. I had failed Lena.

I really was a disappointment, wasn’t I?

“Lena,” a woman spoke in my head, and I fell to my knees at the sound of Kayin’s voice. “We have work to do.”

My heart was thumping with intensity. I gripped the blades of grass beneath my fingers as if somehow it would help ground me in this moment.

Kayin? Is that really you?

I hadn’t spoken to or heard from the mysterious seer in over half a decade—the evening before Queen Ryia La’Rune’s assassination. So many questions drummed around in my head, and all I could do was quickly begin listing them.

Where have you been all this time?

Where are you now?

Were you involved in the Queen's murder?

Just as I was about to ask if she knew where Torrin was, she spoke. Her voice was weaker, more feeble, than I remembered.

“There is much I wish I could tell you, Lena. But I can’t.” She drew in a long breath. “It has taken me great effort to contact you. It’s…” She exhaled in relief. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”

She sounded so defeated. Broken. Nothing like the upbeat woman I communicated with for so long.

Are you okay?

Her voice broke as she replied, “No. I am not.”

The beating in my heart quickened, and I swallowed the unpleasant lump in my throat.

Tell me what I need to do.

She was breathing heavily now. “You are with the Prince, yes?”

I am.

“Good.” Kayin choked on a cough. “I can’t speak for much longer—our connection isn’t strong from this far away.”

Where are you, Kayin?

It was silent for a few moments. “I am in Otacia.”

My eyes enlarged, and I scrambled up from my place on the ground.

“Otacia?!” I exclaimed out loud. "Are you a prisoner?”

“Do not worry about me,” she insisted. “Our paths shall cross when the time is right.” There was a brief pause. “What did Igon tell you before he died?”

I couldn’t help but notice the sorrow in her voice as she uttered that out. I still didn’t know how the two knew each other.

“He told me he sent Torrin away…” I whispered. “Then told me to find you, to find Oquerene.”

I was talking to myself, pacing back and forth like a maniac. If anyone were watching me, they’d surely think I had lost my mind.

“You needn’t worry about finding me. Not yet. Did he give you a message of some sort?”

I frowned as I recalled his cryptic words. “Yes…he said, ‘Only through fire can the phoenix be reborn from the ashes’…whatever that means.”

She groaned in frustration.

I nervously drummed my fingertips on my legs. “What is it?”

“I don’t get visions like I used to…hardly get them at all anymore. The Queen’s necklace, do you still have it?”

I blinked and glanced down, beholding the diamond and sapphire necklace lying against my collarbones. I ran my fingers along the delicate gems, the stones glimmering in the moonlight.

“I do…why?” I asked slowly.

“That necklace will give you the answers you need…everything…everything will make sense.”

“How would a necklace provide answers?” I questioned skeptically. I felt panic rising within me at her silence. “Kayin, you’re scaring me…” I breathed. “Are you in danger?”

“I will talk to you again in time,” she claimed. “Get to Nereida. You will find answers.”

I halted my pacing.

“Wait! Do you know where Torrin is?” I blurted out, hope and dread blooming in my chest at the possibility of answers. “He left last year without a word, though apparently Igon is the one who sent him away.”

There was a delay. “You’ll cross paths with Torrin again soon.” She was quiet for a beat longer before she whispered, “I am so sorry for what happened to you, Lena.”

As quickly as Kayin’s voice filled my head, she was gone—nothing audible but the hushed nighttime breeze on this mountaintop.

Kayin…why now after all this time? And how the hell was she speaking to me from all the way in Otacia?

I pinched the bridge of my nose, loosening an aggravated breath.

Igon had refused to offer up much information about her. He had just sworn she was as trustworthy a Mage as they come, and as a seer, keeping her identity unknown was imperative. There was so much I needed to ask her about, and yet, try as I might to communicate, the connection had just…vanished.

And she must’ve seen what happened to me…with Rurik…

I clutched my chest as I attempted to calm my breathing, the wind doing little to relieve the sweat now dripping from my forehead.

Do not think about it. Do not think about it.

I took a few shaky breaths, willing my tears to stay put. I didn’t wish to think of it, certainly not right now when so many were counting on me. I didn’t want to be reminded of what those monsters put me through. Reminded of the utter helplessness I felt.

I am alive.

They are gone.

They aren’t here.

I am safe.

I couldn’t think about it, not now. I needed to focus on saving my people; my trauma could be dealt with later.

They are gone.

They aren’t here.

I am safe.

I spent a few minutes collecting myself, rubbing my arms in a comforting motion. I used that time to shove my emotions—my memories—into a bottle.

I am safe.

I am safe.

I am safe.

Once I felt composed enough, I slowly started back for camp, feeling even more exhausted after that altercation.

Then, like always, my mind drifted to Silas.

“I cannot bear your kindness. Do not give it to me.”

What, did he wish for me to be a raging bitch to him? Did he truly desire hostility? Or perhaps indifference?

How would that help us work toward a better future, considering the animosity he had felt for my people his entire life?

I still felt bitterness, considering all he had done.

Silas, The Witch Slayer.

I had heard stories passed around fires over the years…stories that, once they got gruesome, sent me evacuating to someplace silent.

I never wished to hear those tales. I still didn’t. I couldn’t picture the man I had loved, the man I knew better than anyone, committing such atrocities. Even after seeing him all these years later, seeing how cold he had become, I still couldn’t envision even a fraction of the details I’d heard.

As I made it back, I took in the multiple campsites set up along the top of Mount Rozavar, the mountain weather-controlled by magic.

The fire around our small group was still crackling, and Edmund peered up from examining his new leg, now made of enchanted carbonado, to give me a small smile. Elowen was sitting beside him on a log, marveling at his new arm.

The metal, veiny-like material was…outlandish. Extraordinary.

“Thank you again, Lena. Just…thank you,” he said with a peaceful grin as I passed by. The flames made his blond waves appear even more golden as they lay against his forehead.

I simply returned his smile, giving him a slight nod, and went to sit beside Merrick on the opposing log across the fire. He was glowering at the two of them, and they were either choosing to ignore him or were so lost in each other that they hadn’t noticed him staring.

Roland was sharpening a dagger while talking to Hendry, Viola was off who knows where scouting the skies in bird form to see if any Otacians were near, and I didn’t wish to know where the Prince and his wife were.

Those lounging around the flames were spaced far enough away that they couldn’t hear Merrick and me speaking. “You could tone down that grimace, you know. You’re going to scare off the poor children,” I teased lightly.

The handful of Mage children that had traveled on this journey were giggling and dashing around the warm mountaintop, chasing fireflies and capturing them with their magic in little bubbles. If they caught Merrick’s twisted face, I had a feeling their stomachs would plunge. He could be unsettling when he wished to be.

Merrick snorted, his expression softening. I set my hand on his shoulder and leaned in close.

“You will never guess who just spoke to me,” I whispered in his ear.

I felt him tense, and he turned to look at me, his icy blue eyes turning nearly black—the color they always turned when he read someone’s emotions. Sometimes, he used it to detect if someone was lying or to see if someone’s emotions matched up with their words. But usually, he just used it to understand others better.

“Torrin?” he breathed.

I shook my head. “Kayin.”

His eyes enlarged as he loosened a breath. “Well?” he pressed. “What did she say?”

I let out a humorless laugh through my nose. “Nothing much. She asked if the Prince was here, told me—”

Shit. I can’t tell him about the Queen’s necklace.

I cleared my throat as my hand slipped from his shoulder and back to my side. “She told me she was in Otacia, and while it wasn't confirmed that she was a prisoner, she told me she was not okay.” My eyes fell, and I nervously picked at my nails as I sat down beside him. “She also told me we would meet again in time…Torrin and I.”

“That’s partly good news, I suppose.” Merrick shifted next to me, dragging his teeth along the hooped piercing that wrapped around his bottom lip. “None of this is mere coincidence…does she want us to find her?”

I shook my head again, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “No. She told me to head to Nereida. I didn’t even mention the place to her.” I gave Merrick a weak smile. “At least that’s a sign we’re doing one thing right.”

Merrick’s eyes faded back to icy blue as he studied me. “I trust you, Lena.” The corner of his lip crept upward. “It is good she is alive, yes? It’s been so long.”

“It has…” I angled my head and marveled at the night sky. It really was beautiful up here. I could understand why Immeron chose this place over Ames. The lack of light pollution made the stars all the more visible.

It reminded me of when I was little. I'd struggled with nightmares before we had found our home in Otacia, the fear of my power a constant source of paranoia, even more so in unfamiliar territories. I remember one of our blankets had been eaten up by a pack of moths, causing little holes to form in the fabric. Mother, being the creative woman she was, added more—hundreds of tiny little holes. She scooped me up in her arm