Arcane #silco Novels & Stories

In the shadows of his surveillance network, Silas smiled faintly. “Good,” he murmured. “Now he understands.” ARC 9 ended not with certainty, but with inevitability. And the price of the kiss had only just begun to reveal itself.

There was a dragon tattooed down his whole back. Looked so lifelike. I was half expecting it to start moving. My eyes trailed further down to his lower back, where the letters S.I.X were inscribed. So wait six isn't actually a number, but an acronym? He turned slightly, enough for me to get a view of his front, but not for him to see me standing there.

“I’ve been digging into Zane and the fights. There’s a lot of shit happening behind the scenes, and it’s not just Legacy pulling strings. There’s a silent investor.” My brows pull together. “A silent investor? Who?” “Don’t know yet,” Nero says, and I can hear the irritation in his voice. “But whoever they are, they’re the ones planning the fights, calling the shots. Legacy’s just the face of it all. A distraction.” Arkyn leans forward, his gaze darkening. “So this silent investor is the real problem?” “Seems that way,” Nero replies. “And that’s not all. Zane was seen entering a witch’s coven a few months back. And not just any coven—this one was exiled by the witch’s council.”

Chapter 11 I stared at the glossy tablet screen in Matteo’s hand, gripping my glass of scotch so hard the crystal groaned in protest. The headline on The New York Observer's digital front page was practically screaming in bold, black letters: THE ICE KING THAWS: JULIAN VANCE UTTERLY BEWITCHED BY NEW BRIDE.

I groan against his lips as Sin pulls my bottom lip between his teeth, before sucking on the flesh, and in a strange way; that burns right across my body. Sinclair pulls back, staring down at me with a familiar look on his face, and I match his gaze, my breathing heavy as he wraps one arm around me while the other moves down my stomach, before disappearing under my skirt, and I suck in a harsh breath when he trails a finger over my clad wet pussy.

"Onyx can't see us there. We can use the analog terminals to feed you data without the board knowing where the leak is coming from." They raced back to the Dead Zone. Silas sat at the center table, opening a secure link to the boardroom. He handed Iris a tiny, skin-colored earpiece and a tablet that was disconnected from the main house network. "I have to play the part of the arrogant genius," Silas said, fixing his suit jacket despite the blood on his cuff. "You need to find the cracks in their lives. Marcus, Elena, Vance—all of them."

“Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.” Lennon nodded and placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. Then his eyes flicked toward me as I tapped on my phone, sending the details swiftly. “There,” I said, sliding my phone back into my pocket. “I’ve sent you the contact information for someone at The Arcane Network.” “The Arcane Network?” Lennon repeated, raising a brow. “They’re a specialized group that handles situations like this—shady dealings, hidden threats, people who want to fly under the radar. They’ve helped me before, and trust me, they’ll be very interested in working with you.”

He said. Season 2 ended here! Author note: Hello everyone!! Please continue to read ARCANUM because, there will be a side story which about Steven and Nicolai. See you on Season 3!!!

Silco pets her head as if they are talking about just a twenty dollar bill, “I trust you can find your way in a building on a second try.” “Ughhhhh!” Scar buries her head into the cushion, blowing out her frustration, “You are torturing me! You are mean! You are the worst! I’ll die...” Silco shoots over a serious look, but darts his eyes away when Scar peeks up sneakily. “Well, if you die now, his company will die with you,” Silco shrugs, picking up his newspaper, “Consider your death well paid, princess.” “Fine!” Scar sits up, realizing her trick failed, she starts bargaining, “Give me a good reason why I have to do it.”

The "First Transaction" of the collector was not a trade of currency, but a trade of "Archetypes." The "Avatar of the Past"—the eighteen-year-old Silas Blackwood—stood in the center of the "Grey Static" left by the Merchant’s deletion. He was a masterpiece of "Alpha Purity," his gold-and-sapphire skin glowing with a shadowless, clinical brilliance. He carried the "Original Silver Dagger," and his stormy sea-grey eyes were two solid pools of unadulterated pride.