Born for Silk by Nicci Harris
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Why are they still there? I like it. But why? “Aster.” I breathe. “Like a flower.” I look up at him again. “We are all just flowers, not like you, my king. You’re a city from the old-world. Everyone important is named after a city from the old-world.” I don’t know why I said that. He doesn’t need a history lesson. My head feels as if I inhaled a cloud and now my thoughts are surrounded by white and confusion.
She backs away slowly, grasping at a cruel smile. “The creature isn’t real, Aster. Your only friend is make-believe. You still have an imaginary friend. It’s pathetic.” I blink at her. “I’ve heard you talking to it,” she goes on. “It doesn’t talk back. It isn’t real. They’ll see that you’re not fit to be a Silk Girl. They’ll see that you’re odd and not want your genes tainting their legacy.”
He lifts his hands. “Easy”—his cunning gaze measures my expression— “I was going to take her to the other tank for you, Sire.” “I’m quite capable.” I don’t like the idea of handing her over for reasons I do not know, and don’t care to dissect at present. It’s simple. Surely. She’s my property, and her current condition is unacceptable. The CR Guard follows me, focused on capturing such a moment
Mine. My hard stare snarls the claim before I even admit it to myself. I will have her. I will keep her. If not to carry my heirs, then to sit like a pet at my feet. I will keep her. So we need one less lord.
jealousy toward Ana’s pregnancy, Iris’s Xin De genes, and Blossom’s curves. And I am sure if I knew Daisy better, I would find something to envy about her also. I’m a terrible Silk Girl.
Goodnight, my king.” She walks from the room. No, little creature. I was aiming at Odio.
He grips the edge of his seat and nods to each member of my Collective in acknowledgment. He is very good at pretending he respects them. Perhaps he does, in a way. “He is in coalition with rogues. We had to put a stop to it. Rome actioned it while everyone enjoyed the festivities, and no one is the wiser.” Interesting… I smirk. “For The
clear my throat. “To the Queen. You could have stopped me.” “I was thinking about what she would have wanted,” he says, roughly. “Not him or you. I was thinking about her.” “I don’t understand.” “You don’t need to. And if you know what is good for you, you will stop trying to understand.”
I want to keep her pure, safe. My last piece of humanity. Perfectly intact. But his threat digs at the grave of my darkest memory, and my weakness. I want to. There is no doubt that I want to fuck her and if I do… He will cut her open. Pull out her womb. Leave her broken. Just like my sister. Hatred
thighs. How did she get them? I could not be more pleased that I executed that Wardeness in the Lower-tower last week. She was careless and blind. This girl—my Aster—has not lived a gentle
Iris?” she asks. “Who the fuck is Iris? You fucking imbecile!” I punch my fists into the brick on either side of her head, the clay fracturing inward. “Aster!”
fight it anymore. I understand it. You are the first thing I’ve ever really wanted. Now! What do you want?” “I wanted to be your Silk Girl!” she screeches. At her manner, heat builds in my temples
and presses my palms to his warm abdomen, where the muscles tighten with each thrust. “I’m here.” My head is spinning, and I think
others. The girls are watching. “My king,” I curtsy, unsure what to do, and the corner of his lip twitches with a smile. “Did you just curtsy? It is a bit late for formalities
His eyes lick over me, darkening in an instant. “You know I need my cum inside you,” he states, his deep timbre, bottomless and dangerous, rumbling behind a bar of teeth that cage his needy bite. I press harder between my thighs; the lovely pressure squeezes a whimper from me. “Yes.” His tongue runs along his lower lip, while his eyes scream his intent. “I’ll put it there with my fingers tonight, nice and deep between your swollen folds. That is a kindness. But tomorrow, you will take me again.” “I understand.” He leans down and
back. To bring her back to me. Shocked, I empty my humanity. My soul blackens against her gaze. “Very well.” I lift the head from the bath. “I’ll give it to Cairo,” I snarl. “He can put it in a glass case, store it next to the vase that holds your womb.” “Sire?”
Paisley,” Kong calls from his station behind me. “You look exhausted.” “I haven’t slept well,” she says from a small distance away, and I turn my head to stare at her for the first time this night. Dark bitten-moons cup her hollow eyes. “Perhaps she should take a break now, Sire,” Kong offers. “She’s not needed around at all hours to monitor the Silk Girl. Now is the right time.” I shut it down. “She is needed at all hours.”
trying to decipher how far I am willing to go for her. To the end… But she doesn’t want that. He wants to know how many rules I will break. All of them… He wants me to. And yet, like him, the woman of my affections belongs to The Trade. “Will you let her go?” he asks.
I recite my vows, angry. Cold. Wanting the nothingness and boredom I have lived with to return, replace her. “To be a king is to suffer alone under the burden of decisions and the weight of necessary evils and truths.” “This is love, Rome.” “Love is for the Common.” “Love is human!” he spits out. “Do you have any humanity left to see this?” I will not love her only to have her leave! With
Root.” “This is the third Silk Girl to come to poisoning here,” Coober states, as I measure the girl up: pretty and strong. Far stronger in appearance than my little creature. “Only one managed to birth a son for my legacy but was so frail from toxicity that it broke her apart during delivery. They do not survive here. I feel I need a Silk Girl with the Xin De genus.” I walk to her, my chest pulling as I notice the small swell at her hips. My little creature has softened me beyond repair, it seems. The others in the room part for me as I stare down at her. See more than a silk girl. See… Her eyes blink on my form. “Sire?” “Yes.” I clasp my
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?”
“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.” “No.” I reach forward and snap her neck in one swift
fault.” “During this term”—she speaks over my shoulder, truths pouring from her— “a Silk Girl has become pregnant outside of The Circle and before Sire even started, a lord has died, and the heir is no longer a secret. I don’t know what this means for us, or where to go from here.” “Please,” I say
news.” “I’m sorry.” She shakes herself. “This is my first pregnancy, too. Let’s get you fed first, and I will go to the Trade Connect Building and get the message to the Black Matter Tower and the Half-tower where Master Cairo is.” She inhales and exhales, letting herself relax. “I only want to keep you and the heir safe. I am so happy for you, for us—for The Cradle.”
pregnant, Aster.” She nods, joy bouncing around her expression, and I let the words sink in. “Your ovum has implanted. Oh, my,”—her eyes widen— “I need to get the news to Sire. And Master Cairo and—” Her hands slide down my arms, releasing me. She begins to pace. “You need a Guardian. Yes. You need one because everyone knows, Aster. They know who you are. It isn’t safe. And the
Do you trust your Collective? No. He knows. I do not know how, but his understanding churns the air, building a tangible storm around us.
wanting his pressure. Shit. I stifle a moan. “That is truly hurtful, Sire.” The other man says, genuine offence lacing his tone. “I am your brother. We may not see eye to eye on certain political matters, but your heir is mine, too.” “So, it’s you.” I walk to the door and press my ear to it. “What is me
widen. “Does it scare you how apathetically I will execute her?” His tone is anything but amused now. “Do you see the black hole in my chest? Is that why you will happily leave me for a peaceful, pathetic life with the babies?”
wrestle internally with what to do. Stay. Listen. Leave. Mind my own business. “Correct. I will not have an heir.” Who will have no heir… his brother? I hold my breath to the beat of my heart, the
hand. “I’ll make it easy then.” His voice is deep, strained, and deliciously satiated. “I’ll erase the decades of conditioning. I will own you, body, mind, spirit. You will stay with me. Let me make myself very clear to you, little creature. You are mine. And this”—his hand presses over my womb— “child, is mine. Not The Trade’s. Not The Cradle’s. Mine!” If a word could bite, the way he expels ‘mine’ would draw scarlet ribbons from flesh.
until the last beat of your heart.” A trembling breath squeezes from my lungs. “Say it, Aster. Who do you belong to?” A happy tear slides to the table. “You, my king.” “Forever, little creature.” “Forever, my king.”
I’m scared it’s chapter 3 and it’s too happy
The Silk Girl is known. Protect the heir.’ It is an entire lecture.
Insolent little creature. “What of my Collective?” This fucking girl. Just say, ‘Yes, my king.’ I
feel but cannot put into words. “It was a little fever dream, but I didn’t pick gold. I picked yellow. Like the missing sun.” She spins to take in my room, as elaborate, yet traditional as the rest of my wing. My eyes track her as she moves around the space, looking like a baby bird in the cage of a monstrous eagle. “Paisley noted down gold,” I state. “Maybe they are the same colour to her.” That I had not considered. “Perhaps.”
Fuck me, she is pretty. Her voice, her scent, her sweet body in my arms, so lax, so mine. “I will be here with you in the first-light for all your interrogations,” I offer. She giggles. “Interrogations.” I frown at the jumpy soft cadence of her childlike laugh, hating how much I love it. It is one thing to accept humanity and another to welcome castration… I like my balls. “You’ll stay?” It finally dawns on her. “We sleep together all night? Every night?” “Always.” I hold her to my chest, and she curls her knees to the side. Safe. Safe with me. Like I promised her sister decades ago. With a hand covering the back of her head, fingers laced in silky black strands, and another scooped around her hips, I rock my new Purpose to sleep.
the House Girls—though it has been inactive since the night of the carnival when a little five-foot-two Silk Girl climbed into my lap
thank her for allowing this to happen, but… she is gone. Sadness flickers inside me, but I remember my Collective. I force myself to surrender the simmering need to help her. Sometimes, it is best to accept that not everything can be fixed. Some people are not ready… some are paralysed with fear. A memory whispers in her absence. Small feathers in my palm. An upside-down bird trapped in a glass house. If she could only see the Redwind. See something outside of these walls. Maybe she would spread her wings.
very careful with what you say next. This concept of love is somewhat new to me. Do not make me despise it before I have a chance to adapt to its incessant rule.” But she is broken. My brows pinch, confused
Because he is mine. My king. They want what is mine. I don’t feel jealous; I feel territorial. There is a distinct difference.
My king,” I sob, happy. I love you. I love you. My heart feels like it may burst through my chest. I want to cry, because this is terrifying. Want to shake the moment, pinch it, because it isn’t real. Can’t be. “Say it.” I blink. “Say what?” “What you are thinking. I demand it.” I snuggle backward
The world around me fades, channels, as Aster offers them both a flower from her bunch. Leaving me with only the pulse of my possessiveness, the energy of the kills, of my claim, of my need, of my desire for her, I scowl. I let her play with her Collective, not pick fucking pointless flowers for them. For other men. Where are my flowers?
Give them to me.” I watch as her eyes roam my leather vest, taking in the brutal dashes of red, before stopping on the thick blood drying, akin to cracked paint, on my fingers and knuckles. She swallows, clearly nervous. “I didn’t think you would want… flowers, my king.” I’m insane; I fucking realise this. I don’t want fucking flowers. I want her flowers.
Rome releases me, heading into the washroom. “Do not leave this room without me, little creature. Wait.” I
Cloaked. I freeze. I stare at his closed washroom door but feel as if I cannot wait. Or perhaps, I don’t want to. Through this long pause, something tugs at me. To make my way to her. To be there for her.
with such deep, dark apathy. “Sire. This is the great problem with removing boundaries. One’s place in The Cradle becomes confusing.” I hear Master Cairo’s sigh. “The girls will move on. I assure you. They will focus on their Purpose.” His voice drops, hinting at anger. “You could have waited until the other Silk Girls left the room.”
Odio!” I roar before pinching my thumb and forefinger together, whistling for him to show himself. To guide me to her as is his damn duty. But he does not. I’ll kill him. I’ll rip his head off and hang it next to his ancestors for this. She is not his!
Her—my weakness—sinks in and nearly cripples me. I replace the pain, the hurt— With anger.
Her head shakes over and over. “No.” She isn’t in her eyes as she whispers, “I cannot keep my baby and watch you take away my Collective’s… I cannot. I don’t… Can’t.” She goes limp in my arms, the battle stripped from her, her words as defeated as her body feels against mine. I want to roar. Feel it stirring. “I will take you to the Windmill Forest, Aster.” I will do anything. “You and Tuscany. I will make amends.” Detached, she says, “And Ana,” but there is no hope, no pulse to her words. It isn’t enough for her. But she will take it. Fuck.
If I look at him, I will show him the wrong emotions, the angry ones threatening to blast and incinerate. If I open my mouth to him, I will say hurtful things; he will let me cut into him, claw at him because I need someone to blame for this… injustice. This… painful reality. It is his fault— And it isn’t.
despise these people. They gifted her to me. They offered their children in exchange for a windmill and supplies, and she wonders why I cannot fault The Trade entirely. I didn’t snatch her from her father’s paws. He could have kept her, could have tried, but he did not. They will have to pry her from my bloody corpse
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