Conquering The Unbroken

Chapter 16

"There you are," Silas purrs, stopping in the middle of the street to face us.

Citlali looks between Silas and Renit, noting the resemblance, and adjusts her distance accordingly. Farther than she was before, she helps Renit lift me up back to a standing position. My shoulders bark at me after colliding with the ground; my hips are no better. But the ache doesn't outweigh the absolute fear flooding through my mind.

Everything Silas is emitting...the worst has come.

"Silas?" I ask carefully. The crown prince's attention is a slow drift of his eyes in my direction and when our stares meet, I don't receive the normal smirk and softening of his features. Instead, his stare resembles his father's. "Silas, what are you doing here?" My voice is low, as to not convey dread.

He doesn't answer me. I'm not as important as the witch standing beside me, Renit Marron, his blood brother and the one he was supposed to rule the kingdom with. After being banished by his father, none of that stands. Renit is only a rebel with a nameless past and hopeless future. He won't ever receive the luxuries of the castle again, not if his father has anything to say about it.

"It's been a while, brother," Silas gutters. "I see you've finally chosen your own path." His gloved hands close into fists.

Renit holds no love in his eyes when he stares at his brother. "You've switched alliances."

"Was there ever really a choice?" The lively grey in his eyes is gone, and like he appeared after coming out of the trance Renit's lightning put him in, the crown prince is hollow once more. My heart shatters in my chest.

He's under his father's control.

As if he's reading my mind through a power gifted him from the broad branch of his abilities, Silas meets my stare again. At the beginning, he was the only one that got me through the horrors of this castle. He was kind, respectful, caring—nothing in comparison to the way Renit used to hate me. They've switched roles.

"How you left such a wonderful destiny is beyond me," he says. "This life...this power...I never want to leave it."

I expose a palm to him and from the flare of his nostrils; he takes that as a threat. He's like a startled bull being cornered into a pen. No amount of coaxing will bring him back. "This isn't you." My voice falls to give off a sense of confidence. "Your father is controlling you to be this; the real Silas would not want to come here and kill all these people."

If we capture him, here and now, Celestine can use her power to halt the king's control. The dome over half the village is still protecting her. Rebels are still fighting and taking down every black and red uniform in sight. Silas's fits perfectly, yet it doesn't convey the personality that makes him the next, great leader of this kingdom. The armor gives off the impression his father wants to leave behind. Death. Darkness. Destruction.

"The same can be said for you, can't it?" Silas takes one step towards us, and in turn, we take one step back. He's dangerous. The endless book of his power is short-lived, but one strike and he'll kill us all. If he holds the strength of Elvira or even his father, we don't stand a chance. "You killed so many people, third hand. And here you are, siding with the weak enemy." I visibly twitch at the name the king gave me and the reminder of the tattoo engraved on my skin. The markings hold the truth, as well as common tongue.

"What about Avalie? You'd never hurt her," I attempt. "Avalie does not want you to behave this way."

For a second, Silas considers. He looks to the ground of the street as if seeing her there. Where he stares, he plants his boot in silent order to crush her skull. A shiver snakes up my spine at the realization we're not getting out of this without killing the crown prince of Esaria. This is our last chance...Silas was our last shot. And if we can't have him on the throne, we're doomed. But if we kill him, if we kill his father, too, our chances at living in an ordinary kingdom are better.