Page 101 of Born for Silk

I have seen enough.

Felt enough.

I turn to leave when she whispers, “I do not want to die without knowing she has Purpose.”

Her strange declaration sets steel into my boots, halting me midstride. “Who?”

“Aster.”

That name hits me like a bullet, and I lurch around to lean over the girl, hating the use of my little creature’s name through another’s lips. “The fuck did you just say?”

She swallows, her moment of hesitation hangs in the thick, electrified air.

“Say that name again,” I dare.

“My name is Lavender,” she finally manages on a choked exhale. “I know, knew, Aster from the Aquilla Silk Aviary.”

My blood simmers with possessiveness. “What of her?”

She tries to smile, but it’s a distant expression she barely achieves. “Did she get her Meaningful Purpose?”

“She will,” I declare, curt, not trusting this girl, her motivations, her intent until?—

“That's good,” she mumbles, and the tension in my shoulders loosens enough for me to think straight. “Can you tell her I said so,” she continues. “That it's good. Can you tell her that I saw her bird? The mutant one. We all did. It chased Iris. It was funny, but we didn’t dare laugh at her. Can you please tell her I'm sorry for what we did?”

“Sire is not your messenger, girl!” Coober growls.

I spin around, take a fist full of his silver hair, and slam his face into the wooden bedframe, hard enough that he goes limp. I release him, and he drops to the ground.

“Do you have anything to say!” I thunder at the doctor, who backs away with his hands held in surrender.

“No, Sire.”

“Leave!” I order, and he scurries from the room.

I kneel at her bed. “Sorry for what?” She gasps, staring at the body on the floor. “Look at me,” I demand. “Sorry for what?”

Her wide eyes lift. “She will know.”

“I must know!”

“I cannot.” She shakes her head over and over. “And condemn her again. I will not do it.”

Anger’s burning presence returns to my veins. “You will tell me, or I will?—"

“I'm dying, Sire.” Her words are softly spoken but I pause under their weight. “There is nothing you can do to me. Silk girls must be without negative experiences. I do not wish to?—"

“There are worse fates than death.” I grit my teeth, caging the threats that sit inside. Torture. Flaying. Skinning. A slow, bloody death that leaves screams embedded into the atmosphere. I hold the darkness. “Nothing you say will condemn her,” I declare. “You have my word.”

“The word of Rome of The Strait.” She sighs. “I remember when she spoke with you in the parlour. I was viciously jealous of her that day.”

Patience waning, I hiss. “What are you sorry for?”

“I was cruel,” she admits, a shiver racketing through her body despite her sweats. “Many times in her life. For no reason. It felt good to be stronger than her because she seemed so mentally impenetrable. It bothered me, and then you touched her, so before I left the aviary, we held her down and tried to ruin her seal. There was blood. I've not stopped thinking about it?—"

Barely, I hold my temper. “We?”

“Yes. Iris, Ivy and I.” She winces. “Forgive me.”

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