SILVER'S POV
The next morning, I barely sat through breakfast. The moment I was done, I dressed quickly and headed straight to Uncle Charles' house.
As I arrived, I saw his grandson again loitering outside. He frowned at me like I had interrupted something important. Today was not a day for distractions. I ignored him completely and walked past into the house.
Inside, Uncle Charles and Zoah were already seated, as if they had been waiting for me.
I greeted them brightly, forcing a calm I didn't entirely feel.
That was when I noticed her.
A woman sat gracefully beside Zoah, poised, composed, and dressed with quiet wealth that didn't need to announce itself.
Something sharp tightened in my chest.
Jealousy, sudden and uninvited.
"Who is she?" I asked, my eyes fixed on Zoah.
"She's an aide on this mission," he replied evenly.
"We can obtain the herbs without her," I said immediately.
His gaze didn't waver. "We need her. She's influential and intelligent. She knows more about this than you do."
The words landed harder than I expected.
A quiet sting spread through me, but I kept my expression steady.
I understood what he meant without him saying more. I was from a modest background, while she clearly wasn't. She spoke with confidence, carried herself like she belonged in rooms I had to fight to enter.
But intelligent? Less capable?
That part I refused to accept.
I was top of my class. I had earned my place here.
For a moment, I wanted to turn around and leave. Go home. Shut the door and let the frustration spill out where no one could see it.
But I had come too far to retreat now.
Zoah needed to be mine completely, undeniably mine.
No stranger, no polished outsider would take that from me. Not even her.
A bitter thought crept in.
Zoah already belongs to Violet… and now you're competing with someone else you can't even outshine.
I silenced it immediately.
This wasn't about feelings. It was a game now.
And in games like this, only the strongest remained standing.
I exhaled slowly, smoothing my expression.
"Fine," I said at last. "How do we get Herb C?"
Uncle Charles leaned forward slightly. "First, we must understand what Herb C truly is."
Zoah answered before anyone else could speak. "Herb C is a poison."
A pause settled in the room.
"Who uses poison to cure someone?" I scoffed, unable to hide my disbelief.
The woman beside him finally spoke, her voice calm and precise.
"Sometimes, when a victim is already infected with a poison, a stronger one can be introduced to suppress it. It weakens the original toxin, rendering it inactive. After that, a supplement can be used to cleanse what remains."
The explanation was measured, intelligent, too intelligent to dismiss easily.
Still, I refused to let my expression give anything away.
"Like I asked for your opinion," I snapped back sharply.
Who did she think she was, trying to lecture me? I hated people who wrapped arrogance in intelligence and called it wisdom.
"Natasha is right," Zoah said calmly.
My jaw tightened.
"Whatever," I hissed under my breath.
So that was her name, Natasha.
Of course it was.
"Herb C is ranked the third most powerful poison," Zoah continued, and the room shifted instantly. The atmosphere grew heavier, like even the air was pausing to think.
Natasha didn't hesitate.
"There are five known powerful poisons stored in the most feared occult temple in India. Herb C, being the third, is kept there."
A cold silence followed her words.
Zoah immediately reached for his phone. "I'll book a flight right away."
My eyes flickered in surprise.
So he really was rich… or dangerously well-connected.
How had I never noticed that before?
Across the room, Natasha also pulled out her phone, already arranging her own travel.
Uncle Charles sighed, leaning back in his seat. "I'm honestly too exhausted for this journey. I won't go. But I'll book a flight for Silver.
She'll go in my place."
A smile broke across my face before I could stop it.
He was the best uncle in the world.
"Awwn, thank you, Uncle," I said warmly.
"You shouldn't be this excited about travelling,"
Natasha said lightly, glancing at me. "I assume you've never even been on a plane before."
I didn't even look at her properly. People like her thrived on provocation. I refused to feed her ego.
She wasn't worth the reaction.
"Lord Lugard," Zoah said suddenly, ignoring the tension, "she'll go with me. I'll handle her flight myself."
I scoffed immediately.
"Who told you I'm going with you?"
Zoah turned to me, unbothered. "You're my aide.
You promised to help me complete this mission."
A slow, dangerous smile tugged at my lips.
"You have another aide now," I replied coolly. "I'm no longer relevant, remember?"
He stepped closer than necessary, close enough that the air between us shifted.
His hand settled on my shoulder.
I flinched, but not away.
Heat spread through me in a way I didn't expect, sharp and unsettling, like my body had betrayed my restraint. I could feel it immediately, he noticed. Of course he did.
"You're going with me," he said quietly.
His palm lingered, sliding over my exposed skin with an unhurried confidence that made my breath catch. I wore a sleeveless top, and the open skin of my shoulder felt suddenly too aware of his touch, too exposed.
I swallowed hard.
I shouldn't have liked it.
But I did.
His hand moved slowly from my shoulder to my upper arm, then lower, tracing a path that felt deliberate, controlled. When he reached my fingers, he didn't stop. He guided them open, massaging them one by one, as though memorizing something he had no right to claim.
Something inside me cracked under the gentleness of it.
I reached out with my free hand before I could stop myself, brushing against his.
"Now that's enough," Uncle Charles said dryly from behind us.
Heat rushed to my face. I pulled back instantly, and so did he, like the moment had been forcibly broken.
"We leave tomorrow," Natasha announced, her tone clipped, tight with something sharper than authority.
I glanced at her.
Jealousy. It was obvious now.
A slow, knowing smile tugged at my lips before I could hide it. And beneath that, a thought I shouldn't have had at all, how did Natasha even meet Zoah in the first place?
ZOAH'S POV
"We leave tomorrow," Natasha repeated, irritation threading through her voice.
I barely heard her.
Silver was smiling.
That was the problem.
I frowned slightly, replaying what just happened, my hand on her shoulder, the way she reacted, the way I didn't pull away fast enough.
I had lost control. Just for a moment.
But it was enough.
Her skin had felt… too warm.
Too real. Too easy to remember.
And worse, too easy to want again.
A dangerous realization settled quietly in my chest.
I had developed a weakness.
And for someone like me, that was never just a feeling.
It was a liability.
Dragons didn't fall for humans.
They didn't soften.
They didn't hesitate.
I looked away, jaw tightening as I forced my expression back into place.
Whatever that was…
I would bury it before it became something worse.