Novel Silas Marner Novels & Stories

"If my mom hadn't forced me, I wouldn't have touched her! "You know why we married so fast? Because she wouldn't even let me touch her! "I was just curious—she gets aphasia when she's emotional, right? So what about in bed? Can she even make a sound? Hahaha." Boom— The thunder hit like it was aimed at me. Like something inside me just ripped apart. I wanted to vanish. To curl up somewhere no one could see me. But where? It was all rain. All thunder. All his voice, laughing.

Mara's POV My body froze. “What?!” I spat. “Consummate the marriage? How? Why?” Several questions tumbled from my lips at once. His gaze slid past me, straight to the window. His nostrils flared. “Silas is already here. I can smell him already.” He walked to the window, leaned against the wall, stared out briefly, then turned back to me. He gritted his teeth. “That old hag is here with his minions, and we need to give them a show.”

Under his rapt attention, she felt… unveiled. Silas didn’t rush. He let his eyes travel over her, a slow, worshipful journey. “God,” he breathed, the word a reverent exhale. “You are a masterpiece.” He approached again, but this time his hands didn’t grasp or claim. They traced. His fingertips followed the line of her collarbone, down the gentle slope to the swell of her breast. He circled her nipple with a touch so light it was almost ghostly, watching it tighten and pebble in response.

It could be the reason you die. In a world as dangerous as mine, in a world with so much hate and pressure, and so much pain, I had finally found a way out, and this marriage was my way out. I would find out who that strange man was, and I would make sure he regretted showing up to this wedding. Silas snapped his fingers in front of me as I came to. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded. “You’ve said you were okay multiple times, but you keep spacing out. Babe, tell me what the problem is, and I’ll see what I can do about it. Are you hungry? Did anything happen during the ceremony?”

Silas mutters as he lights another cigarette. “And I get to have what I want as soon as I serve you on a silver platter to my benefactor. A shame, though; I wanted to have a taste of supernatural pussy, but there will be more chances after the wolves are conquered,” he muttered, and Myra feels her stomach drop. “You are a monster, and you won't get away with this when Draven—”

The carriage gave a lurch forward as the black stallions started their trek toward the dreary castle once more. It snowed on the way the trees dusted with fresh white powder and the mountains gleamed in the sun. The cold air did not bother me instead it rejuvenated my energy and I felt at home. This landscape was my home. The castle was not my home however. It’s obsidian walls and towers were a dark reminder that this was not meant to be. This land was not supposed to be so empty and dark. The carriage creaked as it rolled onto the only bridge that crossed The Divide leading to the castles main gates. I shuddered whatever had made that scaring crevice was not natural. Emma hid her head in my

move, but it was where my mindset was at now. I couldn't move, didn't want to move. I knew deep down that if I moved, Sólas was going to come back and attack me once more. Without even realizing it, my body was shivering in tune with the swirling of my mind. -Mara. - Whispered a voice through the storm in my mind. I shoved it aside, knowing that it wasn't possibly Tohr. I had been hoping he would answer me for days now, there was no way he would do so right now.

Silas asked while pressing his lips together in a tight line, looking completely disappointed and unhappy. “Not engagement. She's marrying him.” Before Anthea could respond, Emilia beat her into it. Her words seemed to completely shock Silas, as his mouth hung open in disbelief. Emilia, who was busy enjoying the fun, couldn't help but burst out in laughter. -------------------------------- ----------------

Here, it tasted like expensive air and impending change. I forced myself to sit up. The movement was easier today, though the stitches in my side still tugged, a phantom reminder of Marge's brutality. I reached up, my fingers trembling as they brushed the thick, coarse texture of the bandages wrapped around my head. I felt like a mummy, preserved in silk and secrets. "It’s time, Isabella." Silas was leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in a charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than the Rossi’s primary estate.

"God, I remember. He flung open every window in the place. In November." "Twenty-eight degrees. Felt like the Arctic invaded." "And not a word. Just that Silas stare." Mia mimics it, blank and intense, like he's solving a puzzle you didn't know existed. We both crack up, the sound bouncing off the wood panels. Speak of the devil. Silas emerges from the back, hauling a crate of beans like it weighs nothing. Long sleeves, as always, hiding those scars that snake up his arms like old battle maps. He glances at Lulu in her pen and says zilch, but as he passes, he shifts a stray mug out of her grabby reach.