Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTREK0JZCY5JYR5AH2XAGGX

The dim lighting of the bar shrouded the patrons in a veil of mystery, but there was no mistaking that face. Those familiar hazel eyes met Aurora's across the expanse of The Raven's Nest. Time seemed to stretch out, the clinking of glasses and low murmur of conversation fading into the background as she gazed at Silas Blackwood. Rory swallowed hard, her hand tightening reflexively around her glass of whiskey. It had been what, five years since she'd last seen Silas? After their ill-fated, drunken kiss that fateful night, they'd both agreed it was for the best if she moved on. She'd thrown herself into her studies, eventually earning her law degree. But the memories lingered, like the lingering taste of whiskey on her tongue. Silas turned to face her fully, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Rory," he acknowledged, limping toward her with a grace that belied his disability. "It's been a while." She nodded, unable to find words. God, she'd missed him. Missed the way he listened to her, really listened, without judgment. Missed the sense of belonging she'd felt in his presence. Missed the way her heart raced every time their hands brushed. Silas gestured to the empty stool beside her. "May I?" Rory nodded again, schooling her features into a neutral expression. Silas never had been one to beat around the bush, so she knew whatever he had to say, he would get to it directly. He settled onto the stool, his knee popping audibly as he shifted his weight. "You look well," he observed. "Thanks. I've kept busy." Rory took a sip of her whiskey, relishing the burn as it slid down her throat. "Why are you here, Si?" she asked, using the nickname he despised. Silas' smile sharpened. "Looking for a drink." His gaze raked over her, assessing. "You look different," he said finally. Rory's lips curved into a wry smile. "Third time's a charm," she quipped. "Yeah, I got my law degree. Worked for a firm in the city for a bit." Silas raised an eyebrow. "And now?" "Now I'm a delivery driver," Rory admitted. "It's not glamorous, but it pays the bills." Silas nodded, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "I'm sure you're very good at it." Rory snorted. "Don't patronize me, Si." She drained the last of her whiskey and signaled the bartender for another. "What about you? Still playing spy master?" Silas' smile turned enigmatic. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He signaled the bartender for a glass of his own. "Although you're not wrong. Information gathering is a big part of what I do." Rory raised her glass in a mock toast. "To gleaning information over less needy drinks." Silas laughed, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down Rory's spine. "To unspoken truths," he countered. They fell into a comfortable silence as the minutes ticked by, the clink of glasses and low murmur of conversation gradually enveloping them once more. Rory studied Silas from the corner of her eye, marveling at the changes time had wrought. The lines around his eyes were deeper, his auburn hair shot through with silver. But his presence was still the same - commanding, confident, a man in full possession of his power. Silas caught her looking, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement. "Something on your mind, Rory?" She shook her head. "Just thinking about old times." "Ah." Silas took a sip of his whiskey, his gaze distant. "The good old days, when we were carefree and ruled the world." Rory laughed, a genuine sound that surprised her. "Is that what we were doing?" Silas turned to face her fully, his eyes intense. "I like to think so." He reached out, his knuckles brushing against hers in the barest of touches. "I've missed you, Rory. Missed your sharp wit and keen intelligence." Rory's breath caught in her throat. "I've missed you too, Si." She hesitated, then took the plunge. "Why did you really leave?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "After Prague?" Silas' fingers tightened around his glass. "I told you. The operation went south. I nearly lost my leg." "But it was more than that, wasn't it?" Rory pressed, her blue eyes searching his. "You left without a word, disappeared off the face of the earth. I thought... I thought we had something." Silas was silent for a long moment, his eyes dark with memories Rory couldn't begin to fathom. "We did," he said at last. "But I couldn't drag you into my world. You deserved better than a broken-down spymaster with more secrets than he could count." Rory's heart clenched at the pain in Silas' voice. "You could have let me make that choice for myself," she said softly. "Instead, you cut me off, cut us off." Silas looked away, his jaw tight. "I was trying to protect you, Rory. Trying to do the right thing." "The right thing?" Rory scoffed. "Isolation. Silence. That's not how relationships work, Si." Silas' fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach for her, but didn't dare. "I know that now," he said quietly. "I was so focused on my own sense of self-preservation, I never stopped to think about what you might need." Rory looked away, her throat suddenly tight. "It's too late now," she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "Too much water under the bridge." Silas cover her hand with his own, his touch warm and solid. "Nothing's too late, Rory. We're still here, still breathing. There's still time to make things right." Rory met his gaze, her blue eyes searching his. "Is there?" she asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper. Silas' thumb brushed across her knuckles, a gesture of comfort and longing. "There is," he said with quiet conviction. "It won't be easy. There are still sins to confess, bridges to rebuild. But I'm ready to try, if you are." Rory took a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm ready," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's make things right, Si. Together." Silas' eyes held a familiar warmth, a glimmer of the old Silas shining through. "Together." he agreed, his fingers tightening around hers. "Let's make things right."