Chapter 63: Played in the Shadows
Micah’s POV
I wished with every fiber of my soul that I could just open my mouth and demand the truth from Noah. I wished I could grab him by his collar, look into those icy eyes, and scream at him until he admitted whether or not he was the one who set my room on fire.
But I knew better. I knew it was useless.
Noah wasn’t like Damon. Damon was a chaotic storm... loud, violent, and recklessly transparent. When Damon wanted something from me, he took it with a ruthless, blunt honesty that left no room for guessing. You always knew where you stood with Damon, even when he was dragging you straight into hell.
Noah, on the other hand, was a quiet, suffocating fog. He was a master of quiet deception, wrapping his darkness in sweet smiles and gentle touches until you didn’t even realize you were breathing poison. He would never give me an honest answer. He would just tilt his head, give me that sickeningly innocent look, and let me drown in my own paranoid thoughts.
As Damon’s face flashed in my mind, a violent, agonizing ache burst open in the center of my chest. My eyes stung with fresh, hot tears that I fought desperately to keep back.
I hated admitting it. God, I hated myself for it... but I missed him.
I missed Damon so intensely that it felt like an physical wound carving through my ribs. I missed the reckless safety I felt when he was shielding me, even when he was terrorizing me. But I had made a firm, agonizing choice. I had sworn to stay far away from him, making a silent pact with my own survival because if Damon and Noah ever collided over me again, it wouldn’t just end in a fistfight. It would start an all-out, bloody war between our two families. I couldn’t be the spark that ignited that fire.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Noah’s smooth, quiet voice suddenly sliced through the silence, shattering my frantic thoughts.
I flinched, pulling my gaze away from the scorched threshold of my ruined room.
Noah stood beside me, his tall frame looming over mine as he casually ran a hand through his dark hair. "According to Father, it’s going to take a month or more to get your room completely gutted, rebuilt, and set up again."
A month?
The word felt like a heavy iron weight slamming down on my throat. A whole month? That meant four entire weeks of living in Noah’s room. Four weeks of sleeping in his bed, and existing under his constant, suffocating watch without a single inch of privacy.
I lowered my head, staring blindly at the floorboards as I sniffed back a quiet sob. I blinked rapidly, forcing the hot tears to pool in the corners of my eyes without spilling over.
I needed to get out of this house. I needed to leave right now before this place devoured whatever was left of my sanity. For a fleeting second, I wished I could just pack a bag and run back to the Silver estate—back to Damon—but I knew that was impossible. If I truly wanted to escape without starting a feud that would get people killed... was Phoenix really my only way out? Was selling my pride at that underground club the only key to buying my freedom?
"What are you two just standing there for?"
A cold, booming voice echoed from the bottom of the staircase, causing my entire body to violently tremble in instinctual fear. My hand flew to my side, my fingers digging tightly into my oversized clothes as my ribs throbbed in response to the sudden spike of adrenaline.
Father.
I turned my head slowly toward the stairs. Father was standing near the front entryway, looking impeccably groomed. He was wearing his signature crisp, tailored dark suit, his silvering hair slicked back perfectly without a single strand out of place. It was his official church leader outfit. He looked like the picture of a holy, righteous man of God—a complete, sickening contrast to the monster he was behind closed doors.
A tiny, desperate wave of relief washed over me when I realized he was fully dressed to travel. He was leaving. I just prayed to whatever God was listening that he wouldn’t return for a long, long time.
"Let’s go," Noah whispered near my ear, leaning down to lightly tap my shoulder.
I gave a weak, rigid nod. I watched Noah step ahead of me, descending the polished stairs with an easy, confident grace. I forced my trembling, weak legs to follow behind him, keeping a safe distance as we arrived in the main living room.
Sitting by the front door were two large, expensive leather travel bags. My heart did a tiny, secret flutter of genuine excitement. He was really leaving.
"I’m heading down to the main ministry headquarters in the capital for the next few months," Father announced, his deep voice carrying an absolute authority that filled the quiet house. "We’re overseeing the expansion of the new regional church project. This time around, I won’t have the time to drive back and check in on you two every weekend. But I expect regular updates, Noah. I’ll always call."
Father’s eyes were fixed almost entirely on Noah, gleaming with a rare, approving warmth that he had never once directed toward me in my entire life.
"It’s completely fine, Father," Noah replied effortlessly, offering a polite, respectful nod. "I’ll be extremely busy with hockey practice anyway. We have the big interschool competition coming up soon."
My breath hitched in my throat as I stood frozen behind Noah. Hockey practice.
In the chaotic frenzy of the fire and Noah’s terrifying mind games, I had completely forgotten about the assignment Raven had dumped on me for the school newspaper. She had assigned me to shadow both Damon and Noah during their preparations—to take detailed notes on their practice sessions, record their stats.
My heart began to hammer wildly against my ribs. Was this... was this going to be an opportunity to see Damon again? Or was it just a cruel, dangerous excuse that would tear my heart to pieces all over again?
"Ah! The interschool championship!" Father let out a booming, boisterous laugh that sounded completely fake to my ears. He reached out and clapped a heavy, affectionate hand onto Noah’s shoulder. He always seemed so bright, proud, and genuinely happy whenever he was conversing with his golden son. "Wonderful. I wouldn’t miss those finals for anything in the world. Make sure you crush them, son."
"I will, Father," Noah promised smoothly.
Then, Father’s heavy gaze shifted. It slid off Noah’s shoulder and landed straight onto me, where I stood shrinking back in the shadows.