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"I believe the punishment for treason is death."
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[SILVER RAYNE WILLIAMS]

I can't respond to his brass statement. He is the prince. A fang. The worst kind.

What the hell does he know about fear? About being afraid to lose the ones you love?

He said it himself, he does not feel.

That cancels out any knowledge of what I must be feeling at this moment. Any understanding that he could have had.

So of course it would sound dramatic to him. My tears are dramatic to him, my feats are dramatic. I am the definition of silly in his eyes.

He knows nothing about being at the bottom of the food chain, about living as the last in a hierarchy of vastly superior beings.

He can mock me. He has been gifted that privilege.

He can mock that I show my weakness so openly.

Because it doesn't matter.

No, not anymore.

I don't respond to his statement but I stare at him because there is nothing I can do but stare.

After all, I am not truly present. I don't feel like I'm filling my body, only a very small part in the far deep reaches of my mind, where I am curled in and watching through.

It is this piece that registers that his gaze is solemn, vacant as still as one would think the ocean behaves when no one is looking.

There is nothing in his eyes to take. God, it kills me.

Absolutely nothing.

That is all I can think of. That as of this moment, I do not know my fate.

It is the scariest thing about the Tribrid Prince.

You never know what he feels, or what he may be thinking. You can commit treason, ugh, treason of the worst kind and there is no anger or malice in his eyes, there is no hope, no nothing.

His eyes are like elegant mirrors, and all you see is your fear, staring back at you, hauntingly.

This silence and the overhanging feeling of the unknown is what kills you more than the actual punishment.

It is torture by itself.

I know that I need to break the silence or I fear, my fear will kill me.

That I will simply go hysterically insane from thinking about nothing and everything at the same time.

I open my mouth to speak. God, I want to speak. Anything to kill this silence.

I want to ask about my fate, but my throat is dry, and I just— stare. Remain in prison for what feels like an eternity.

"You've disappeared, Silver," he states. His words are quieter than my breaths, yet so crisp they send a shiver up my spine and bring me back slightly.

I swallow, taking a moment before attempting to form words again.

This time I manage to speak, but even as I do, I don't understand how my mouth is moving, or how a raspy voice escapes from my lips.

"What—" I have never heard my voice this hoarse or sound quite diminished, "what is going to happen to me?"

His stare remains neutral, and silence wraps around us for a moment, and then he speaks words that destroy me.

"I believe the punishment for treason is death."

It is spoken so indifferently, that my breath is trapped against my lips at the sound of it and I simply refuse to breathe.

"Death," I repeat. The word is bitter on my tongue and scary now that it knocks at my door and looks me in the eyes.

My hands clasp each other, fingers intertwining supportively and squeezing tightly.

"Ah," I slowly nod.

I take a large breath in to drown my panic. I can not panic. I will not panic.

It will solve nothing.

Breathe, Silver.

God damn it, Breathe.

"You're going to—" I swallow, my gaze shifting between nothing, taking a moment before speaking again, "You're going to kill me—" I trail off.....

Something clicks deeper inside me.

  "—Finally," I finish as the realization hits. Memories fill my head of all the close calls I had with the prince.

Those in the field against that old tree and those on the covers of my bed with his hand wrapped tightly around my throat.

It was always going to be him.

It is a plain and painful realization that this was how my story ended. 

From birth to spending time with Mom, Dad, and eventually Vella. Going to school, the lab, and finally coming to Fang Court.

This is where whoever wrote the story of my life decided to put a full stop.

And to make matters worse, no matter how hard I think about it, there is nothing I have achieved.

Nothing to note I have done in my life.

It hits me that I will be gone in a moment and the world will move on as if I never existed.

Yes, Dad and Vella will move on, even if they hurt for a moment.

My fingers tighten and I blink through the light blur of tears.

Even though all my efforts, even though I had told myself that if I got caught, in the least, I'd know I tried everything, it still doesn't change the fact that I have failed.

Miserably.

That all my worrying, plotting, scheming was for nothing.

The Veridians have won-

My heart breaks.

Again.

And I am to go, quietly as I did before.

How sad.

I am so tired of losing. Of being powerless. But in a war against Fang that is all I'll ever do. Lose.

I always thought the world to be big, but now, there is nothing smaller.

My eyes shift to the prince, I am a being lost already.

"Do it," I say, my chin tilts upward. My gaze is vacant but my voice is soft. The blur in my eyes is clear and I take a defeated breath, a soft plead.

"Just do it."

I want a quick execution. I want to be gone before I know it. Strange, it was what I feared and now it is of comfort.

My eyes close and tell myself that I am alright. I count my heartbeats as they slow.

It will be over before I know it.

And the quietest silence consumes me.

I thought I would not feel it. You know?

The strike that kills me.

Oh, But I do.

I feel the air shift and even though I know the Prince is alarmingly fast that when he kills me, it will be done too fast to register-

I feel it. It's like closing my eyes has heightened every other sense.

The movement of his body as he moves forward is as if slowed by time.

So this is how it happens? Death?

Is it some law of the universe that one must feel their death as it comes no matter how quick the being that delivers it is?

He shifts forward and my heart stops.

And then... silence.

The silence of death is so, numbing.

Seconds tick by.....

"You're rather odd, aren't you?" A crisp voice states so close I can feel a breath fan my face.

My eyebrows arch at the comment, and then my eyes open and I am staring directly into the eyes of the Prince.

So close I can see the dilation of his pupils, the strands of his midnight hair, as his face is a whisper away from mine.

He has leaned forward over the table, so close that If I breathe out, our noses will be touching.

So I hold in my shock at his proximity but my eyes widen and watch as his gaze calmly travels down my face.

He searches for something whilst I hold my breath, unable to move.

"How do you fight to this point and surrender so readily?" he asks quietly, with a hint of disbelief in his tone. "I could have sworn you possessed some semblance of resilience."

His gaze shifts back to mine. "How disappointing."

My eyebrows remain furrowed as I am doused with both a sense of anger and confusion.

I hold my tongue too late when I blurt words filled with poison back at him.

"I want to fight," I grit, my voice breaks, "b-but there is little I can do when I am only a hairsbreadth away from a being that can kill me before my next heartbeat," I argue.

My body is stiff and my voice has a quiver but I hold his gaze braver than I ever have.

Perhaps it's because I know I am going to die and there's no difference if I make him angry one more time.

He does not reply for a moment, just holds the silence, and then he pulls back, away from me and I can breathe again.

His gaze shifts off me and he stands, "If I wished you dead, Silver, you would be dead already. Unlike your sister, I do not hold conversations with beings I wish to end. I simply end them." he grunts as he walks away.

I don't register his words until seconds later, and confusion floods me as I watch him move toward the sleek bar
Near the front of the plane.

"And I did not leave my chambers to entertain the dead."

He opens a bottle and I watch him, stuck at his statement.

"What-" I am afraid to ask, "What are you saying?"

Breath in.

"That you- don't want to kill me?"

Breath in. Hold it. For god sake hold it!

I stare at him with a thundering heart as he glances at me through hooded eyes, the sounds of crystal white wine spilling into fine glass echoes as he pours.

"I have no intentions of that particular outcome, no, " He replies.

I am left speechless as he takes a glass and pauses as if merely tasting it.  He sets the glass back and does not pick it up again.

I don't trust my ears.

"You don't—want to kill me," I whisper my gaze falling on my glass of water.

I say it to myself more than to him and confusion forms within me, "he doesn't want to kill me." I repeat quieter.

He doesn't?

Many things run through my mind. Is he toiling with me? Has he something else in store for me?

Well obviously. He is here for a reason.

I blink rapidly trying to understand this situation. He was here. He was waiting. But what would he want from me?

Only one thing comes to mind.

The moment in the field. His revelation. I blink blankly at the thought, my gaze narrowing to nothing. No.

There is Elise. She is his mate.

It has to be something else. He doesn't feel anything for me. He doesn't. He can't.

I am not sure. But I have to be.

"I prefer a quick death, Your Majesty," I grit, my shaky hand reaching for the glass of water and pulling it towards me, "I-I won't do well tortured," my voice skips at this.

Sometimes certain punishments hold fates worse than death. I know that.

"I have no desire to endure your pain beyond what I am forced to," The Prince grumbles, "It's already insufferably burdensome."

My gaze flashes to him, "No torture or death?" I ask more to be sure than an actual answer. He remains quiet but watches as the wheels turn in my head.

I swallow, "But you were waiting for me, h-here," I add, my gaze falling to the table but his remains watching me reason.

"You knew I was coming. If not to stop me, then why? What do you want from me?" I hold the question on my tongue and a breath because if it is what I think I am prepared to DIE before I face the fate of my mother.

My jaw ticks, and I squeeze my hands tighter as I observe him.

His gaze shifts to the window and after a moment, mine follows him.

Lord Graydon remains outside, watching from the darkness.

The car is gone behind him and I know Vella has left too but he has remained.

Just watching, his eyebrows slightly arched. I do not know if he can see us through these windows. They are different from normal I note, but I know he can sense us

"A High Lord has committed treason on your account."

My gaze flashes to the Prince at these words, and I am more confused than ever.

"Treason?" I echo, my gaze snaps back to the Lord Select. If there was a moment in this terrifying conversation to have, it would be now, but I would not take the risk, "Lord Graydon would never do such a thing." I scoff, my voice turns bitter than I wished when I add, "He is loyal to your Family," my gaze snaps to the prince, "the Veridians."

I have never seen a man more dedicated to the crown than he is. Fighting in the lost world for years, his hand in the King's race.

To sacrifice that position and his precious reputation is ridiculous. I knew firsthand how fast he was to switch his behavior when I had threatened to destroy it by going to the masked ball.

"Drake Alistair ordered him to bury you within the darkest dungeons of the Court."

My heart stops at this.

The Prince's gaze returns to mine, "Lord Graydon chose to defy him, and save you."

Those words rendered me motionless. My gaze shifts back to Lord Graydon, eyes wide.

His words repeat in my head.

"You must learn to trust Silver"

"And Silver? I do protect my subjects."

My gaze falters and for a moment, a deepest guilt holds me, as thoughts of him slumped against that lamp post fill my head. My gaze shifts numbly but I take a hold of myself, clamping my jaw.

"Why would he risk everything for me?" I persist. Though something tells me the Prince has no reason to lie, I can not bring myself to believe it.

"Lord Graydon is a man of Balance." The Prince states, "A man of Balance is fair," he pauses —"And his mind often drifts to thoughts of you."

My eyes flash to him at those words and my throat constricts.

Despite telling myself not to, my gaze shifts back to the figure of the Lord standing in the dark, watching and waiting.

I would think he should be running. I know I would. But he waits. And he looks concerned. Does he not realize he shares with my consequences? Now that I also tried to steal a Veridian.

My gaze falls quickly to my shaky hands and I beg myself not to think now. Not now, not now, not now.

After a hard breath in, my gaze flashes back to the prince, "Why are you here?" I repeat. He still hasn't answered my question.

The Tribrid gaze is always straight and it does not falter.
"You were able to tell Elise isn't my true mate."

I freeze at his statement. But I slowly nod. And ask my heart to listen before jumping to conclusions.

God, I will jump if I have to.

"How?"

I blink at his question, my throat is dry, pondering the word for a moment, registering that I'm finding it easier to breathe in the least.

"Uh-" I search for the right words, a crease on my forehead, "Everything..." I shrug eyes reaching his again.

His gaze narrows and I nod quickly, knowing I must give more information,

"Uhm- well, for starters," I swallow, but push myself to
proceed, "You are not particularly warm toward her. You treat her like you treat me o-or any other being in this court." I explain.

When he says nothing, or there is nothing I can tell to think my words offend him, I continue.

"You do not hold her hand or keep a hand on her waist to guide her as most mated fangs do. As new lovers, you should be fawning over her and yet your gaze does not linger on her face, and you offer the reliance, you never truly look at her.."

I think back to the moments I had seen them together. The lunch, the launch, and even as they walked into the Lord's Chamber side by side.

"Your hands," I state, my words halting as I remember how close they were, "When your hands are beside each other, your fingers don't reach for hers even if it's a mere attempt. You do not watch her when she speaks. You rarely speak to her. At least I don't remember a time you have leaned in to whisper in her ear. She does not laugh or smile beside you unless someone is looking. But she does not have eyes at the back of her head."

I take a deep breath in after gauging his reaction and continue because his eyes tell me so.

"You correct her and others around you. Oh, and you have not kissed her once. There is no effort in your eyes. No longing, nothing. Nothing whatsoever."

I ramble, "You are not different in any way." I finally finish in realization to even myself, "I have never met you until this point, but even with your mate beside you, you have behaved exactly as I have imagined. The same way I thought the first time I saw you in the magazine. Cold and—"

"Unfeeling." He finished.

I pause at this and keep his state. My mouth remains hanging and breath ragged at the word rightly spoken, and I lean back, my hands dropping to my lap, and I nod, quieter and more reserved.

"Y-yes. That."

I stare at him, my chest rising and falling as he moves toward me. He stops before me, hands behind his back, and I strangely feel better at this action. Safer.

"If a mere human can recognize all this, it is only a matter of time until Elise, the tribe, and most importantly the court does."

Wheels turn in my mind.

"E-Elise does not know?" I don't know why I whisper this, more to me than him, "H-how?"

More questions plague my mind.

How can they just steal a swear? What about the mate of that sworn? What have they done to him? I am afraid to ask. My heart runs wild within me.

It is the royal family, anything can be done if they want it.

He does not respond to my question. But he watches me for a moment longer before he speaks again.

"I will ascend the throne regardless, but if I wish to unify the three races and prepare them for what is to come then they must be united."

His head tilts slightly, gaze dropping to my glass for a moment, before looking up at me.

"And for that to occur I must have a mate beside me when I ascend. The Freemen beyond our walls and the Wizin refused the oath of Veridian because they followed the belief of my grandfather, that a being such as I is an abomination. Something the fates could not bless. They believe that prosperity is only approved by the fates and a symbol of this approval is a mate."

I swallowed at this. How to disagree...

"Having a Sworn by my side is proof of that approval. The Wizin have agreed to swear allegiance and as the race progresses, the Freemen at my ascension."

I think this through, and it clicks almost instantaneously, "So you need Elise to ascend the throne," I nod, "but what does that have to do with me?" My gaze locks on his, "Even if you believe I'm your—"

God, I can't say it.

I pause gulping, gaze shifting away. "Your sworn, I do not smell like one and I have no strike. No one would believe the fates have blessed your reign. Y-You said it yourself," I add eagerly, "you won't take me." I ramble quickly.

He has to remember that.

"Indeed," he acknowledges with a nod. "Yet, between you and I, there exists a bond. I experience certain sensations because of you."

My heart thumps rapidly within me, and I lean away from him, my fingers tightening around the armchair, breathing harsher. My jaw clenches.

Sensations. He said sensations.

Okay... Okay. Breathe.

Breathe.

"You mean, my pain..." I trail off, "I-I've been careful, I swear." I grit.

"I can sense your discomfort as well," he adds casually. "A few minutes prior, I experienced what one might describe as cold. My surroundings, my fingertips, even my breath—all seemed icy," he remarks nonchalantly.

I froze at this. Staring at him wide-eyed.

The bloody foggers! He could feel that?
Whilst I was sneaking about he could feel everything? Everything?

I blinked feeling both violated and foolish.

A thought echoed in my head. How long would this last? I couldn't live like this... Knowing that a man such as the prince could feel my discomfort and my pain.

My heart kept its heart pound within me.

Is that what alerted him? Then almost any escape I could tried would have been useless. He would have known I was up to something.

He watches me tense, "Yes, Silver, it is a connection that we can not bury. I feel because of this, It is only you who can guide me."

My eyebrows arch at his statement, eyes narrowing on the prince, "G-guide you?"

I think I know. And I hate what I am thinking.

"Valcon once told me, in passing that a mate bond was designed to be the closest human feeling a Fang would ever get. To remind them what they once were. You are the most emotional being I have ever met," his eyes wander around my face, "If I Cannot feel, then I must learn.." the words drag across his lips as if a recital.

"And it is you who will teach me."

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This chapter is very long. It continues next week! Leave a comment and vote to let me know your thoughts.

Xoxo

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