Avery almost closed her eyes, swept away by the overwhelming presence of Silas Blackwood. The sounds of gasps, murmurs, and the rustling of expensive fabrics around them faded into a blur. All she could sense was his breath against her skin, warm and intoxicating, and the way his body shielded her from the world.
But just as her mind began to slip into the dangerous allure of him, Silas tilted his head, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, low and husky, "You want me to kiss you, Avy?"
His raspy voice sent a tremor down her spine. Her breath caught. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest.
She inhaled sharply, grounding herself.
No.
Not here. Not now.
With every ounce of self-control she could summon, Avery took a step back—though not far enough to sever the magnetic pull between them. Her face was burning, the flush reaching the tips of her ears as she glanced around. The crowd was stunned into silence, staring at the two of them as if a live drama was unfolding before their eyes.
Silas simply smirked, his gaze never leaving her.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned to Cassian, his hand still resting possessively on the small of Avery's back. His stance oozed authority, confidence.
"Cassian West, huh?" Silas drawled, his voice laced with mockery. "Aren't you that guy who used to sprint in the opposite direction the moment you saw me on campus?"
His tone was sharp and unhurried as he scanned Cassian from head to toe, his expression carved with disdain.
Cassian's face turned red, whether from embarrassment, rage, or both, it was hard to tell. He clenched his fists, his jaw ticking as he finally snapped, "Silas, this is between me and my fiancée. Keep your delusions and lies to yourself."
A tense silence settled over the room.
But Silas only let out a lazy huff, amused.
Unbothered.
He turned toward the guests, addressing the room with the composure of someone entirely in control. "I think that's enough of the entertainment portion for tonight, folks. Feel free to make your way to the dining hall—drinks and drama both on the house."
He then turned towards Declan and gave him a subtle nod ,Declan nodded back .
Avery blinked, confused by the exchange. Her father and Silas? What was going on?
Before she could make sense of it, Silas grabbed her hand firmly but gently, guiding her out of the ballroom. His steps were confident, assured, and she found herself following him without resistance.
The moment they were alone in a private room, Avery yanked her hand free.
"Silas, what the hell are you doing?" she demanded, spinning to face him. "What was all that outside? Since when are you back from Country Z?"
Her voice trembled with confusion and frustration.
He had been in Country Z last she heard—far away and consumed with his own empire. When she'd gotten engaged to Cassian in her last life, Silas hadn't even known. So why was he here this time?
Was this… was this the ripple effect of her interference? Her rebirth?
She bit her lip.
Nothing else made sense.
Silas watched her, his eyes dancing with unreadable thoughts, and then he smiled—softly. A rare smile, one she hadn't seen in years.
"It's because I didn't want to be late this time," he said, barely above a whisper.
Avery blinked. "What?"
"I said," he repeated, louder this time, "I'm here to remind you that you're already married to me since we were seven. So technically… you can't marry anyone else."
He gave a small shrug, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.
And then sat down on a nearby chair, stretching out like a man without a single worry. That familiar, infuriatingly relaxed demeanor made Avery want to scream—and yet her chest twisted with something dangerously close to affection.
"Silas!" she hissed, her cheeks heating. "We were kids! That wasn't real. Just a silly game I made up because I liked the sound of being your....a bride. I was being foolish, and you—!"
"I didn't think it was foolish," Silas interrupted, his voice calm but firm.
She gaped at him, unable to form words.
Turning on her heel, Avery headed for the door, only for his hand to catch hers. He tugged—not roughly, but with enough strength to halt her escape and pull her back into his orbit.
She spun around to protest, but froze when she saw the look in his eyes.
Dark. Serious.
"You think just because you broke off the engagement with your 'dear' fiancé that he's going to stop chasing you?" Silas said, his voice dropping.
He took a step closer, then another, until her back nearly touched the wall.
"And you think I'm just going to stand by and watch?" His fingers brushed her wrist, sending a jolt up her arm. "You don't get it, Avy. I'm not here to play fair. Not anymore."
He leaned in, his breath brushing her cheek, his words like wildfire against her skin. "This time… I'm not letting you
"That is my problem," Avery said sharply, her voice shaking just slightly—not from fear, but fury. "You don't have to worry about it, Silas. Now leave my hand—no, better yet, leave this place."
She tried again to pull herself free, but instead of letting go, Silas's grip tightened. With one swift move, he tugged her even closer. Her breath hitched as her chest lightly brushed against his.
His gaze bore into hers, unreadable and intense.
"You asked me why I'm here," he said in a low, even voice. "My answer is simple—because my mother wants me to marry some girl she selected."
Avery blinked. For a second, she thought she hadn't heard him correctly. But as the words sank in, her jaw clenched.
She felt her blood boil.
"What does that have to do with me?" she snapped. "Go marry her, then! I couldn't care less."
Silas chuckled, and the sound was far too calm—infuriatingly smug.
"Don't worry," he said with a small, amused smirk. "I don't want to marry her."
Avery finally managed to yank herself away from his grasp, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Her jaw was set, her eyes narrowed.
"Then don't marry her. Simple," she scoffed. "But why are you even telling me this, Silas?"
He stepped forward casually, one hand sliding into his pocket, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because I need your help."
Her brows furrowed. "…Help?"
"I'm here with a proposal," he said, his tone shifting from playful to serious in an instant. "A deal that benefits us both. You help me escape these annoying marriage proposals… and I help you stay far away from Cassian West."
Avery's mouth opened, then shut again.
The room fell into a quiet stillness, broken only by the soft ticking of the antique clock on the wall. Her arms dropped to her sides as she processed his words.
A deal.
A way out.
She looked down, her mind spiraling. It did make sense. After everything she had endured… all the betrayal, the heartbreak, the humiliating desperation she'd once felt just to be loved—love wasn't something she trusted anymore.
Not right now. Not with the scars still so raw.
Maybe not ever again.
And this? This was clean. Simple. Transactional.
No emotions. No risk.
Just an agreement.
Avery lifted her head and met his eyes. "Okay," she said quietly. "Let's get married."
Silas blinked, visibly stunned. For once, he had no smug comeback, no quip ready to go. He had expected resistance, a sarcastic retort at the very least. Not this—an almost immediate agreement.
He stared at her as if waiting for the punchline.
"You're serious?" he asked, slowly.
"I am."
For a moment, his features softened—not out of disbelief, but something deeper. The stunned look only lingered for a few seconds before he pulled out his phone and made a quick call.
"Bring in the papers," he said to someone on the other end.
Just minutes later, the door creaked open. Silas's secretary stepped inside holding a sleek black folder with crisp legal documents inside.
Silas took the folder, flipped through the pages swiftly, and without hesitation, signed his name with the flourish of someone who never second-guessed himself.
Avery took the folder when it was handed to her. Her eyes landed on the blank signature line beneath her name.
Her heartbeat kicked up.
She had dreamed of this moment once—foolishly, childishly. She had fantasized about standing beside Silas in a white gown, a flower in her hair, smiling as she slipped on a ring.
But that girl—that Avery—was long gone.
Still, even if the dream was dead, the irony of its resurrection was not lost on her.
With a quiet inhale, she picked up the pen.
Her signature flowed smoothly beneath Silas's, and just like that—something irreversible was done.
"I'll get these registered at the marriage bureau," Silas said matter-of-factly, "but we need a photo for that."
He stepped toward her and gestured to his secretary, who was already adjusting a small camera on a tripod.
Avery blinked, still absorbing the weight of what she'd just done.
"Sir, ma'am—please smile for a moment," the secretary said politely.
Silas shifted beside her, standing close enough that she could feel the warmth of his arm brushing hers. He leaned in just slightly, and his hand casually landed at the curve of her back—his touch natural, familiar… possessive.
They both looked toward the camera. Avery forced a small, polite smile. Silas, on the other hand, gave one of his rare, genuine ones.
Click.
"And done!" the secretary announced, stepping back to check the image.
Avery turned away, her arms wrapping around herself.
Silas watched her in silence. Her expression was unreadable, but he knew her too well. He could see the storm in her eyes. The thoughts spiraling. The way she was trying to stay composed, even though he could feel the tremor in her aura.
She wasn't unaffected.
She was confused, guarded, hurting—but not numb.
Silas exhaled through his nose and slipped his hands into his pockets again.
'I will not lose you this time, Avy,' he thought quietly.