Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 361: Symphony of Fury I

Chapter 361: Symphony of Fury I

Daphne and Sirona froze at the unexpected interruption. Daphne’s eyes widened in shock― if Silas was here, it would mean that Zephyr had failed to keep him away. Knowing Zephyr, he wouldn’t have given up so easily.

Daphne’s worry was nearly eating her alive at that point― did Zephyr get away from Silas, or was he too injured to stop him? Was he dead, or god forbid, corrupted by the toxin in Silas’s body?

There were too many questions she needed answers to but didn’t have the luxury to ask. Sirona’s life, and her own, were in jeopardy.

"Fuck, he’s here already," Sirona cursed quietly under her breath. She grabbed two of the pots from the table and gestured to Daphne to hide underneath it with her.

Daphne peered down one of the pots to see a greenish mixture inside it, and it had the consistency of black sludge.

"What is this?"

Sirona explained in a frenzied whisper, "When he enters the room, make sure to set this on fire. It’ll cause a contained flame that you can fling directly at him. I also have something else that might help treat him," Sirona pulled out a small syringe to show Daphne, "But there’s only one dose. We can’t take any chances."

"Alright," Daphne’s reply was a breathy whisper, her hands trembling as she tried to strike the stones in the right direction to create a spark. If only she had recovered more quickly before this disaster! But there was no use in lamenting about the lost possibilities.

If she failed, they would die.

Unfortunately, failure seemed more and more likely as the seconds ticked on. The stones slipped out of her cold clammy hands, clattering on the floor loudly. Daphne had never worked a flintstone before, and her nerves were getting the better of her.

"Sister, I know you’re in there! I can smell you!" Silas laughed maniacally from the outside. "But if that’s how you want to play, then I shall indulge you." He twisted the door handle, only to find it jammed because of the chair.

Unknown to them, Silas’s eyes glinted in delight at the surprising obstruction. He loved a good chase― back at the brothel, he often played such games with the women. They would blindfold him and hide around the room, while he tried to find them using their girlish giggles and breathy moans.

Who knew his sister would deliver such a fun surprise?

In that case, he should return the favor. A twisted part of him knew that if he scared her enough, blood would flow more vigorously.

Inside the room, Daphne watched as the door shuddered and creaked as Silas began to slam himself against it, trying to shove it open. The chairs were doing their best to hold on, but Daphne knew it was only a matter of time before they fell against the onslaught.

Then, just as sudden as it began, the onslaught against the poor wooden door stopped.

Daphne and Sirona looked at each other hopefully― was Silas distracted by something outside? Or maybe he simply decided to leave them alone and look for other victims?

They waited with bated breath, but as minutes passed with no sign of Silas, Daphne began to emerge from under the table.

"Do you think he’s finally gone?" Sirona asked shakily.

"I hope so," Daphne replied, chewing her lip.

Then, the room darkened imperceptibly. Something had blocked the light from streaming into the room via the curtains.

Daphne whirled around and stumbled back in shock, the pot nearly slipping out of her hands.

There, by the covered window, was a silhouette of a waving man. A man with very sharp claws, and a jawline similar to Silas.

They had been caught!

"Run!" Daphne cried out, but it was too late.

They barely took a few steps back before the sound of shattering glass filled their ears. Thankfully, the curtains shielded them from the worst of the shards, but the flimsy cloth did nothing to hinder Silas’s dramatic entrance. He cackled and flung the curtains aside, and Daphne shuddered at the dried blood at the side of his lips.

Did it belong to Zephyr or some other unfortunate soul?

"Hello Sister, I caught you," Silas said smugly, leaping into the room like a playful kitten. He caught sight of the mess of chairs that blocked the door and laughed.

"No wonder it was so heavy! Ah, but who knew that they would be stopping you from escaping?" Silas laughed, amused at this turn of events.

Meanwhile, Sirona and Daphne only felt dread. Daphne’s mind whirled― Sirona had the syringe and a pot of her own, and she actually knew how to use the flintstones. If Daphne could distract Silas enough, perhaps Sirona could have a chance to get the better of him. Fleeing from the broken window would only work if Silas was compromised in some way.

"Such is life," Daphne spoke, purposely moving ahead so she could draw his attention and shield Sirona from his view. Sirona got the hint and scuttled to the side opposite her so that she was facing his back. "What happened to Zephyr? Did you kill him?"

"Oh? That bird?" Silas pulled a face as he patted his stomach theatrically, "His blood was kind of greasy, Sister. You might want to change his diet to include more vegetables. I still drank it though, since I’m not too picky."

Daphne’s heart raced. "So he’s alive?"

Silas smirked. "The same way I’m alive."

Five words were all it took for Daphne’s heart to stop for a second. Had Zephyr fallen to Silas’s toxins? No, it couldn’t be. Maybe he would be fine since he wasn’t a human like Alistair and Silas were. Besides, he would have to ingest Silas’s blood before it would work― who knew if a second-generation vampire’s blood would be enough to shift a griffin into a vampire?

Daphne brainwashed herself with all sorts of explanations so that she could keep her mind away from the worst thoughts. She retained a calm expression, watching from the corner of her eye as Sirona went through with their plans behind Silas’s back.

"Oh?" Daphne said. "If Zephyr’s a vampire as well, between you two and Alistair, there wouldn’t be enough blood in Reaweth to go around."

Silas actually looked like he was deep in thought for a second, scrunching his eyebrows as he thought hard.

That moment of hesitation was all that was needed. Daphne thanked the heavens for the reduced intelligence in those affected by vampirism― it seemed like Silas’s bloodlust was both his strength and his downfall.

Sirona expertly used the flintstones to cause a spark, lit up her prepared pot of an unknown mixture, and tossed them straight for Silas. At the same time, Daphne ducked away for cover.

The air ignited, unleashing a chaotic symphony of sound and fury.