Silas Ramsbottom Novels & Stories

Didn't he return to his pack already? “Kyra?” “Yes, mommy.” “Can you still remember the Crescent Zenith anthem?” “Yes.” “Good. Now, close your eyes and sing.” I stepped out of the car, and Ryan followed after me. Silas wore a royal burgundy suit with his hair tied, and two stray strands on his face. He had a smirk on his face, standing straight with his hands tucked in his pockets. His face had some wrinkles suggesting his age. I traced the edge of my car with my claws, walking slowly. Silas' guards stood tall beside him, about five of them.

Damon said coolly, “to think you can steal even a cent from him as some pathetic revenge.” Silas tsked softly. “Damon… Damon…” His voice slid into something darker, almost affectionate. “It’s a shame you know so little about him. For example—” He leaned forward. “Oh, I’m more than just this piece of shit’s trusted man..”

~ RONAN ~ Silas takes a seat opposite me as he answers, "Aside from the fact he's like you? Not much." Then he gives a bitter laugh. "I only met the bastard once, the day he showed up at Amanda's family house to break things off with her. I was there that day because Amanda had called me earlier to talk. She was my best friend at the time, and she needed someone to lean on." He lifts his head, his eyes full of pain. "He killed her, you know? She didn't want to live without him. Even after we got married to cover up the fact that she was pregnant for him. She wasted away to nothing five years after Lyra was born."

"Someone has her very upset." "Someone has crossed into our domain without permission." Silas walked to where my window used to be, staring out at the distant forest where shadows moved between the trees. The wind caught his dark hair, making him look even more otherworldly than usual. "A mortal. Male. Young." "Do you know who it is?" "I have suspicions." He turned to face me, and I saw something dangerous flickering in his expression. Something that made my stomach clench with sudden fear. "Tell me, Celeste.... what do you know about Ronan Nightbane?"

She reached the heavy oak door of Silas’s private sitting room, turning the brass handle and pushing it open without knocking. Silas was sitting in a leather armchair in the corner of the dark room, staring blankly at the shadows on the wall. He hadn't changed out of his rumpled robe, and his eyes were hollow and red-rimmed from hours of silent, desperate weeping. The public castration Lydia had delivered in front of Arthur and the house staff earlier in the day had completely broken him. He looked like a shriveled, empty husk of the man who had once ruled the city’s financial district.

Based on his dressing, it looked like he is well off. Impatiently Silas pulled the window down to demand what the man wants. But he didn't realise that it's a mistake on his part which he is going to regret. As soon as his window was pulled down, Ryan sprayed Chloroform on Silas's face. Within seconds Silas lost consciousness. He couldn't even realise what was happening. After Silas was successfully knocked down, Ryan pushed him off to the back seat before he took the wheel and drove away from there. As the street Silas was parking his car was relatively empty and there were no surveillance cameras there, so Ryan kidnapped Silas easily.

“I’m not a fucking monster, Ophelia, no matter how badly you want me to be.” I stood up, needing distance. My phone buzzed in my pocket—a message from Silas. I made my way to the nurses' station where one of my men was waiting with a nondescript duffel bag. Silas, my third-in-command, looked me up and down. He was twenty-six, covered in tattoos that peeked out from the sleeves of his leather jacket, with bleached hair that screamed "trouble." He was the best investigator I had. “Everything okay, boss? You look like hell,” he said, his brow arching in a silent question.

I was exhausted, but it was a wired, restless kind of fatigue—the kind that only comes when your mind has been pushed to its absolute limit and your body is screaming for a release. I hadn't even heard the door click. Silas was standing by the mahogany sideboard, pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a glass. He had discarded his tie hours ago, and his white shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing the smooth, hard lines of his torso. He looked up, his grey eyes pinning me to the spot with the same analytical precision he used to deconstruct a wire transfer. "You're overthinking the Malta routing," Silas said, his voice a cool, low vibration that cut through the silence. He

Silas announced with a wide smile, a gentle glint in his eyes. "What?" Lydia's and Jamie's jaws dropped. How could this sophisticated man be Rose's boyfriend? Rose's cheeks flushed instantly. She looked down shyly, afraid to look at him. Silas' expression softened as he reached for her cold hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "I didn't intervene when you were bullying Rosie earlier because I wanted to witness the extent of your cruelty and shamelessness. I wanted to see just how low you could stoop," Silas remarked coolly, his demeanor exuding a chilling presence.

He stuttered “Yes, I told you to meet me tomorrow. I said I was arriving today.” “Oh, do you want me to leave?” He asked pointing over his shoulder “No, you might as well come in now.” I huffed stepping back and throwing up my hand to signal for him to come on in. Silas was a warlock, and a neurotic one at that. His stature was on the smaller size and not all the spells in the world seemed capable of fixing his eyesight, so he always wore a pair of large framed glassed, he had shaggy chocolate brown hair and loved his graphic t-shirts. I met Silas many years ago and I guess you could say we have been friends since. Silas’s brain was like a computer, and he wanted nothing more than to learn a