Page 63 of At the Mercy of Midnight
He followed her gaze, before sucking in a stunned breath.
A lone figure stood in the centre of the pathway ahead. Someone small in a riding cloak, hood pulled over their head, arms crossed tightly.
“Well, well,” came a soft, feminine voice which Silas hadn’t heard for a long while. His heart leapt. “He has returned.”
Amelia touched his arm, startling him. His head whipped to her.
“Who is it?” she asked, tone uncharacteristically soft.
Silas swallowed, glancing back to the hooded figure, who hadn’t moved. He let out a long breath. “My sister.”
SIXTEEN
Aurora Finley strode forwards, arms swinging casually as she approached. She was everything Silas wasn’t, and it was always those differing qualities that garnered his admiration.
Where Silas had been quietly obedient growing up, Aurora was the child to act out, refusing to participate in ridiculous errands or long days of mindless researching. She had never played into the Finley name, refusing the wealth it offered her and shying away from the prestigious academia the family boasted.
Aurora was an artist, leaving the estate at freshly eighteen to carve out her own path.
She stopped before them, pushing back her hood, the signature blonde hair spilling across her shoulders.
Aurora looked at him coolly. “I heard you’d come crawling back home,” she said, eyes drifting to Amelia, looking her up and down. “When they told me you’d brought a woman with you, I hardly believed it.”
“Oh…uh, no…” Amelia stuttered, shaking her head.
Aurora raised a brow at her obvious distress. “Last I was here, he had a girl—”
“Aurora,” Silas snapped with a warning look.
She shrugged a shoulder. “What? Tell me, brother, what happened to that girl you were seeing?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, mortification sweeping through him. “That was over a year ago,” Silas said sternly. “You’ve been gone awhile.”
Aurora smiled sardonically. “As have you.” Her eyes slid back to Amelia. “So, who have you brought home this time?”
Silas sighed. “Winslow, this is my sister, Aurora. Aurora…Winslow.”
Aurora’s eyebrows shot up, surveying Amelia with renewed interest. “As inAmeliaWinslow? Really…” Curiosity tinged her voice, eyes flitting between them. Aurora had heard about his run-ins with Amelia, and more than once had guessed at the truth of his feelings. Which he had refused to admit.
His sisters mouth split into a wicked grin, eyes settling on him. Silas knew what was coming and he silently begged her not to, but—
“So, when’s the wedding?”
His eyes fell shut with a rough breath. “Aurora,” he warned, Amelia’s head snapping in his direction. “Winslow is a colleague. We’re working on a project.”
Aurora raised an eyebrow, looking startlingly like their mother for a horrible second. “Working together?” She gaveAmelia a humoured once-over. “I thought you two, and I quote ‘couldn’t stand each other’ or some other nonsense?”
Silas rolled his eyes.
Amelia shifted awkwardly. “We were on a joint expedition to the Rift—”
His hand shot out to grip Amelia’s upper arm, his heart stuttering. She quieted at once with an uncertain look, but he knew the damage had been done when he glanced at Aurora. Her face paled, mischievous look vanishing.
“The Rift?” Aurora demanded. “You travelled into theRift?”
“Can we speak privately?” Silas asked, letting go of Amelia’s arm.
“No,” Aurora said quickly, blue eyes turning to fire. “I can’t believe…you went into the Rift! After everything that happened, how could you—”
