Chapter 8: The Shadow of the Past

Elara quietly pushed the door open, carrying a small tray with two cups of tea. She stopped when she noticed Silas sitting behind his desk, “Are you planning to sit here all night?”

Silas didn't turn around. “Go to bed, Elara. I don't need company tonight, and I certainly don't need you worrying about things you cannot change.”

Elara ignored him and walked towards the desk, placing the tray beside his papers. She dragged a chair across the floor and settled beside him.

“You know, for someone who owns an entire mansion, you have a terrible habit of sitting alone in the dark. Is this supposed to make you look mysterious, or are you simply allergic to good company?”

Silas slowly turned his head towards her. “A true Luna should know when to leave her Alpha alone, especially when he is dealing with something that could destroy him.”

“Then it's a good thing I'm not interested in being the kind of Luna who runs away whenever her Alpha has a bad evening.”

His massive hand moved towards the desk, but Elara reached out before he could pull it away.

She looked directly into his grey eyes, refusing to let him escape the conversation. “So forgive me if a moody Alpha sitting in a dark room doesn't exactly frighten me.”

Silas's jaw tightened beneath his mask. “You think this is about being moody?”

“I think it's about you pushing everyone away before they get the chance to see how much you're hurting.”

His fingers shifted beneath hers, but he still didn't pull away. “You don't understand what this curse does to me, little Luna. Some nights, the pain becomes so unbearable that I can barely recognise my own thoughts.”

Elara's expression softened as she looked at the hand beneath hers. The poison had already taken so much from him, and she could only imagine how exhausting it must be to fight something that never stopped attacking.

“How bad does it get?”

“Bad enough that I would rather face a hundred enemies than spend another night like this.”

Elara frowned, gently rubbing her thumb across his knuckles. “Then why didn't you tell me? I thought we were supposed to be mates, not two strangers sharing a room and pretending everything was fine.”

Silas let out a humourless breath. “You became my mate because of circumstances neither of us could control. You don't owe me your sympathy, and you certainly don't owe me your suffering.”

“Who told you I was here out of sympathy?”

He looked at her again, his grey eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why are you here?”

Elara leaned back in her chair, considering his question. “Because you accepted me when you could have turned me away.”

“That doesn't mean you should sacrifice yourself for me.”

“I'm not sacrificing anything. I'm sitting beside my mate, drinking tea, and having a conversation. You make it sound as though I've agreed to jump into a volcano.”

For the first time that night, something close to amusement crossed Silas's eyes. It disappeared quickly, but Elara noticed it and smiled to herself.

“You really don't know when to stop talking.”

“And you really don't know how to appreciate a woman keeping you company. I might start charging you for my services.”

Silas looked down at their hands again. “You should be careful with your kindness. People have used it against you before.”

Elara's smile slowly faded. “I know what it feels like when people decide you're worthless. I know what it's like to have someone you trust hurt you while everyone else watches and does nothing.”

She took a quiet breath before continuing. “I spent years being treated like I didn't deserve a place in my own family. I'm not going to let what happened to me turn me into someone who abandons others when they're hurting.”

Silas studied her face, and something inside his chest tightened. He had expected her to be afraid of his condition.

“You barely know me, Elara.”

“Then give me a chance to know you.”

“And if you discover that the man beneath this mask isn't someone you can love?”

Her fingers loosened slightly, but she didn't withdraw her hand. “Then at least I'll know the truth. I won't spend my time running away from something I've never even seen.”

Silas looked away, his breathing becoming uneven. For years, women had approached him with sweet smiles and flattering words, but their interest never lasted beyond the moment they discovered what lay beneath his mask.

He had stopped expecting anyone to stay.

Yet Elara sat beside him without asking for anything, holding his hand as though the poison beneath his skin didn't change who he was. Her stubbornness was becoming more dangerous than any enemy he had faced.

A soft chime suddenly sounded inside Elara's mind, making her eyes flicker for a moment.

*[DING! SYSTEM UPDATE!]*

*[HOST, ALPHA SILAS STONE'S EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT LEVEL HAS CROSSED THE CRITICAL THRESHOLD!]*

*[WARNING! GENUINE EMOTIONAL BOND DETECTED.]*

*[HIS FEELINGS ARE NO LONGER BASED SOLELY ON THE MATE BOND.]*

Elara nearly dropped the cup she had just picked up. She quickly lowered her eyes, trying to hide the surprise on her face while the notification disappeared from her vision.

*Genuine emotional bond?*

She glanced at Silas, who was still watching her with an unreadable expression. *So the terrifying Alpha is finally developing feelings. Who would have thought?*

“What is it?”

Elara blinked and looked at him. “Nothing. Why are you staring at me?”

“You suddenly became quiet.”

“Perhaps I'm allowed to enjoy a peaceful moment without being questioned.”

Silas tilted his head slightly. “You're smiling.”

“Maybe I'm thinking about how handsome you might be without that mask.”

His fingers stopped moving, and his eyes searched her face as though he wasn't sure whether she was teasing him. “You think I'm handsome?”

“I haven't seen your entire face yet, so don't get too excited. For all I know, you might look like a badly cooked potato.”

A low growl escaped his chest, and Elara couldn't stop the small laugh that followed. She was beginning to enjoy these little moments when the cold Alpha forgot to act like the entire world annoyed him.

“You have a dangerous mouth, little Luna.”

“And you have a dangerous habit of avoiding questions. I believe we're even.”

Silas leaned back slightly, his hand still resting beneath hers. After a moment, his gaze returned to the fire, and his voice became quieter than before.

“Do you know what happened the night I received this scar?”

Elara shook her head. “No. You've never told me, and I'm not going to pretend I know something you haven't shared.”

“A witch came to the palace during a battle. She wasn't interested in fighting the soldiers or taking the territory. She came looking specifically for me.”

His fingers moved towards the edge of his mask. “Her blade barely touched my skin, but by the following morning, black veins had started spreading from the wound. Our healers tried everything, but the poison had already reached my wolf.”

Elara's expression grew serious. “Did you find out who sent her?”

“No. She died before anyone could question her.”

“Convenient.”

“Very convenient. Whoever arranged the attack made certain there would be no answers.”

Elara studied the mask, then looked back into his eyes. “Have you ever thought about removing it?”

Silas's shoulders stiffened immediately. “No.”

“You didn't even think about my question.”

“Because the answer is still no.”

“Fine. I won't force you.”

He looked almost surprised by how quickly she accepted his refusal. Elara reached for her tea and took a small sip before placing the cup back on the tray.

“But you should understand something, Silas. Whatever is beneath that mask, it doesn't change the fact that you're my mate. I didn't choose you because I expected you to be perfect.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Silas slowly lifted his trembling hand towards the iron mask, his fingers hovering near its edge as though he were fighting a battle with himself.

“Why do you stay when every other woman took one look at this cursed face and ran screaming into the night?”