Novelas y relatos de Silas Ramsbottom

Over and over. “What is that?” I asked her. She blinked. “The song he sings in the dark.” “Who?” “The man who watches.” Dickson’s POV We gathered in the war room. Grim. Rosa. Kelvin. Daisy. Me. And Mara, who hadn’t spoken since Lycan’s exile. Rosa took the lead. “Silas was once our best scout,” she said. “A hybrid. Half-seer, half-wolf. But something corrupted him. He joined the Black Flame cult.”

Elder Ramus, the leader and chief of the council of elders said in a passionate tone. “Well I believe that my mate would find me someday, don't you share the same sentiments with me?” Silas asked, his long slender fingers placed on his chin, the fountain pen he was once playing with lying in a corner of the table, forgotten. “And you should take action about it, Even your own father had gone to the lengths of hosting a…” There was a loud thudding sound and the table that was previously standing healthy was now collapsed on the floor in smithereens.

" The front door swung open, and Silas walked in. He looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backward. His tie was loose, and his dorky tortoise-shell glasses were sliding down his nose. "Mean?" Silas let out a dry, barking laugh as he collapsed into a chair. "Rose, you’re taking Mr. Hamilton way too casually. The man tried to have you erased once. He doesn't have moods. He has targets. He is ruthless." I looked at Silas. He looked like he hadn't slept since the 20th century. "Silas, you look like a mess. Why are you all acting like he’s some untouchable god? You guys talk like he is a villain from a movie. Like he’s Baek Chang-gi from that Korean movie The Roundup: Punishment. Like

"Rhys will not go quietly. He is bonded to the idea of her." "Rhys has proven himself unfit by bringing the enemy into our beds," Grey said, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "We have already secured the blessing of the High-Crag's root. I spoke to Silas through the iron grate. He is... diminished, but his hatred for the North remains his strongest pulse. I showed him the signet the messenger brought. He knows the North is sniffing around his cage." I felt a spark of white-hot heat ignite in my chest. Silas wasn't just a passive observer; he was the anchor for their legitimacy.

My eyes darted to the source of the sound, and that’s when I saw him. Silas. He leaned casually against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes glinted in the fading light, and there was a faint smirk on his lips, as if he found my panic amusing. “What are you doing out here?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. “Could ask you the same thing,” he replied, pushing off the tree and taking a step closer. The way he moved—so confident, so predatory—made my breath catch in my throat.

*They’re the ones actually running NexMind. Suddenly, his earpiece crackled. Daniel’s voice came through, sounding shaken. “Silas… come in. Silas.” Silas tapped his earpiece, still watching the masked men. “I’m here. Did you catch him? Where are you?” “Ramsdale… Ramsdale Hawkins is dead,” Daniel said, his voice hollow. Silas blinked, confused. “What? You were right behind him. Did you shoot him?” “No,” Daniel replied. “I didn’t touch him. He ran to a dead end, turned around, pulled out a gun, and shot himself in the head right in front of me. The system didn’t even give any reward.”

Andrew snapped, “Call me whatever you want. You’re the monster. “You don’t scare me. I know all your dirty secrets!” Andrew glanced at me before criticizing Crystal, his finger up her nose. “I know what’s on your mind. “You’re backtracking now that Silas turns out to be a Warburton heir. “Unfortunately for you, it’s too late. “He doesn’t want you anymore!” Crystal whipped around and turned to me. “Silas, hear me out—” I stuffed the towel into her mouth the moment she tried to speak.

DAMIEN The merchant arrived at midnight. He was not really a merchant. His name was Silas and he had been one of my best scouts long before I became Alpha. He was small and forgettable. The kind of man your eyes passed over without registering. That was what made him perfect for this job. I received him in my study with the door locked and the curtains drawn. Bryce stood guard outside. No one else knew about this meeting. Silas sat across from me with his hat in his hands and his eyes on the floor. He smelled like road dust and cheap wine. The scent of a man who had been living under a false identity for weeks.

The girl nodded and stepped back, biting her lip. Silas was waiting in the study. He didn’t look like what most imagined when they heard the word “guardian.” Where Damián was brute strength and Klaus military strategy, Silas was knowledge. Blond, blue-eyed, a little shorter than me though not by much. He wore a long tunic over casual clothes and round glasses that made him look younger than he was. If you saw him on the street, you’d think he was a literature student, not one of the five deadliest warriors in the wolf world.

I slowly turned my head. Silas was standing beside the desk. The ruthless, charcoal-gray CEO armor from the morning was gone. He was wearing a pair of low-slung, dark sweatpants and a soft, fitted black t-shirt. His feet were bare against the Persian rug. His hair was tousled, falling across his forehead in a way that made him look terrifyingly human. He didn't look angry about the orchids. He didn't look like a king who had been publicly humiliated. He looked like a man who had spent the last fourteen hours staring at the wreckage of his own pride.