Silas POV -The Fear He Cannot Name
632 Words
Silas slammed the door to his chambers shut and pressed his back against it, breathing hard.
The keep was too loud.
Not with sound — sound he could control, silence he could command — but with magic. With pulses. With echoes of a soul he had tried to bury centuries ago.
His sister.
She had called Kali's name.
Not screamed.
Not cursed.
Not raged.
She had called.
Silas dragged a hand through his hair, pacing across the room. The torches flickered as he passed, reacting to the storm inside him. He could feel the keep's wards tightening, straining, trembling with the same fear that clawed his chest.
"She shouldn't have heard you," he whispered into the empty room. "She shouldn't have felt you."
But she had.
The cursed magic behind the door had surged the moment Kali stepped near it. It had reached for her — through the bond Silas had never wanted, never asked for, never believed he would feel again.
He stopped pacing.
His hand trembled.
He hated that.
He hadn't trembled in centuries.
Silas closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. He could still feel the echo of Kali's fear, the way her pulse had spiked when the door screamed. He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his arm, the way her voice shook when she said his sister sounded afraid.
Afraid.
His sister had been many things — fierce, powerful, unstoppable — but never afraid.
Until the curse.
Silas pressed his palms against the cold stone wall, bowing his head. "I failed you," he whispered to the memory of her. "I failed you then. I cannot fail her now."
But the truth clawed at him.
He was already failing.
He had brought Kali here.
He had exposed her to the keep.
He had let her near the door.
He had let her feel the bond.
He had let himself feel it too.
Silas's chest tightened painfully. He could still feel the moment her soul brushed his — light, warm, alive. A spark against the cold expanse of his own. A spark he had no right to want.
He slammed his fist into the wall.
Stone cracked.
Magic rippled.
But nothing eased the ache.
"She cannot awaken the magic," he growled. "She cannot."
Because awakening it meant awakening the bond.
Awakening the bond meant awakening the kiss.
And awakening the kiss meant awakening the curse.
His sister would reach for Kali.
The curse would reach for Kali.
The magic would tear Kali apart.
Silas pressed his forehead against the wall, eyes burning.
"I will not lose her."
He didn't know when the words had shifted — when "her" stopped meaning his sister and started meaning Kali. He didn't want to know.
He only knew the truth:
Kali was fire.
His sister was shadow.
And he was the cold between them.
The keep pulsed.
Silas stiffened.
The pulse wasn't from the door.
It was from Kali.
Her soul brushed his again — soft, hesitant, confused. A whisper of warmth reaching through the stone walls, through the wards, through centuries of ice around his heart.
Silas's breath caught.
He closed his eyes, letting the faint warmth wash over him for one stolen moment.
One moment he shouldn't take.
One moment he didn't deserve.
One moment he needed.
"Kali," he whispered, her name breaking in his throat.
The warmth faded.
The cold returned.
Silas straightened, his expression hardening, his voice turning to steel.
He would protect her.
From the keep.
From the curse.
From his sister.
From himself.
Even if it meant breaking the bond.
Even if it meant breaking his own heart.
He turned toward the door, his eyes glowing faintly red.
"She will not have you," he whispered to the cursed magic behind the iron. "Not again."
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