Silas #3
Cassidy’s breathing gradually slows against the scent gland on my throat, her scent settling as she relaxes fully into my hold.
The frantic desperation from moments ago softens.
I press my lips into her hair and close my eyes, breathing her in until the worst of my instincts quiet.
Mine.
The thought comes automatically, and I can’t deny it any more.
I don’t want to.
I don’t know how long it takes for Cassidy to stiffen against me, for the realisation of what we’ve just done to hit her, but I don’t panic.
I knew she would, and I’m ready for it. Her scent sours with embarrassment and uncertainty.
She tucks her hands into herself and practically becomes a steel rod against me.
I know what she’s going to do—gather the responsibility on her shoulders before I can say something to hurt her.
If she’s the one to take the blame, then she’s the one causing her own hurt.
And I won’t allow that.
“Si…” she whispers, attempting to sit up.
“No,” I say firmly.
She stills, and I tighten my hold slightly. Not enough to trap her, just enough so that she knows I’m not letting her disappear.
She’d move to her seat, cage herself in, and rewrite what happened so she became the villain.
I won’t have it.
There’s nothing wrong with what we did.
Nothing at all.
“Whatever lie you’re currently weaving,” I say quietly, “the answer is no. I’m not allowing it.”
Her brows draw together, the strawberry cream curdling as she hesitantly holds my shirt once more.
“But I’m—”
“No.”
I refuse to allow a single apology to cross her perfect, kissable lips.
Absolutely fucking not.
“You don’t get to apologise for something I wanted.”
Colour floods her cheeks, and there’s a pleased edge to her scent.
I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking down at her properly.
“Are you listening to me, little moon?”
Her throat bobs, and then she nods, carefully, warily.
I refuse to spend the next ten minutes listening to her blame herself for something I’ve wanted since the day she walked into Opus carrying a portfolio twice the size she was.
My omega has spent a lifetime believing she has to earn love, earn affection. She’s spent the last month thinking she wasn’t wanted by one of the pricks I’m stuck with.
I’m not letting her leave this car believing that about me for a second longer.
So, instead of releasing her, I settle more comfortably against the seat and keep my arms around her.
To my surprise, Cassidy lets herself simply be held.
I count three minutes before she starts trying to take care of me.
It’s almost impressive how long she lasted.
Her breathing has settled. Her pulse no longer feels like it’s trying to escape through her skin.
Probably because she’s redirecting that anxiety into caregiving.
“You must be uncomfortable,” she murmurs eventually, trying to move from my lap.
My grip tightens again, and I stare at the roof of the car, trying to bite back my amusement.
I fail. I laugh, my chuckles echoing through the quiet car.
Cassidy lifts her head from my chest, blinking up at me in surprise. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re tiny, moonlight,” I say with a grin, my hand spanning too much of her soft little waist. I shake my head, still chuckling a little. “The bloody seat belt is more constricting than you are.”
She pouts at me, soft pink lips pushed out. I don’t think she realises it because the moment she does, she stops.
Fuck, I adore her.
“It’s not your job to take care of me,” I say calmly. “I am the alpha—I take care of you.”
She sneers at me now. “You do not get to take care of me just because you’re the alpha and I’m the omega.”
“Oh, you’re very, very wrong, little omega,” I say firmly. “You live your life taking care of everyone and everything. I’ll take every burden I can from you. It’s my job. My purpose. The thing I want to do.”
Her gaze darts around my face, scrutinising for something, and I leave her to it.
“I don’t understand,” she murmurs.
“Because I’ve not yet explained anything to you properly,” I reply.
The offended noise she makes is worth every second of this conversation.
Especially when it distracts her from whatever self-sacrificial nonsense she was about to say. Her scent softens again, embarrassment replacing anxiety.
Good.
Much fucking better.
I reach for the bottle of water sitting in the compartment beside me and press it into her hands.
“Drink.”
Cassidy blinks as she holds the cold bottle against our chests.
“You carry water around in the car, too?”
I gesture to Jeff. “He’s prepared.”
She smiles and opens the bottle before taking a small sip.
“Do you want some?” she offers, and I smirk, but nod.
She seems confused when I just open my mouth, but then she pours some water in, waiting for me to close.
I take less than I would if it were for me, and when she smiles, I take the bottle quickly and lean forward, pressing my lips to hers again.
Her lips are soft, sweet, so fucking good. I nudge them open and let the water pour into her mouth.
She gasps but swallows—it was that or choke, after all—and I sit back smugly.
“Si!” She slaps my chest, shaking her head, and I laugh.
She giggles. The beautiful little thing. I wait until she’s taken several mouthfuls before relaxing slightly.
Only then do I realise she’s still curled in my lap.
I grab the blanket that’s been deserted on her side and pull it back into place over her.
Her hair is tangled, so I gently smooth it back into place.
Cassidy watches me the entire time as though she’s trying to make sense of it all.
I don’t blame her. This version of me is different to the one I’ve permitted her to see before.
I tug the blanket higher around her narrow shoulders, settle my arm more firmly around the soft curve of her waist, and keep her exactly where she is.
Safe.
Warm.
Mine to care for.
Mine to keep.
For once in her life, Cassidy Hargrove doesn’t need to earn anything. She just gets to have it.
Cassidy sighs as her scent starts to change.
I recognise that change now. It’s the one she gets when she’s uncertain.
When she’s scared.
“Talk to me, little moon.”
Her fingers tighten around the bottle.
“I don’t know what happens now.”
“It’s very simple,” I say, and her brows lift with genuine disbelief.
“It is?”
“No.”
The laugh that escapes her is immediate, and I savour the sound.
“You’re impossible,” she teases.
“I’ve been told that.”
“Frequently?”
“Almost daily,” I reply.
Her smile lingers for another second before fading.
“What… what do we do, then? This has changed everything.”
I study her carefully, and I know what she’s really asking.
Is she going to lose another person she thought she could trust?
My chest tightens.
Not on my fucking watch.
“It does change things, yes.”
Her face falls slightly. I immediately reach up and tap her nose.
The offended noise she makes is adorable.
“Stop that.”
“Stop catastrophising before I’ve finished speaking.”
Cassidy glares at me, and I kiss her forehead. The cute glare disappears instantly, and I smile.
My sweet omega likes pretending she’s difficult, but she isn’t.
She’s a good girl. A perfect girl.
“Yes, it changes things,” I repeat. “Because now I’ve kissed you once, I’d quite like to do it again.”
Colour floods her cheeks, and I continue before she can combust.
“Frequently, even.”
“Si…” she trails off.
“Very frequently.”
“Silas!” She squeaks, hiding her face into my chest, and I grin.
Then my expression softens because this part matters more than anything else.
I need her to hear me and understand.
I slide my fingers beneath her chin and gently guide her gaze back to mine.
“Listen carefully, moonlight.”
She does.
Of course, she does.
The trust in her eyes nearly fucking destroys me.
“This still won’t disappear tomorrow.”
Her breath catches, and there’s an almost guilty tinge to her scent now.
“I am not going to avoid you.”
The muscles in her shoulders loosen.
“I am not going to pretend this didn’t happen.”
Another tiny release of tension.
“And I’m certainly not going to let you convince yourself this was a mistake.”
Her eyes shine.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
“I know you’ve had… situations with the others,” I continue quietly. “And I know there are conversations we need to have.”
A colossal fucking understatement.
“But those will not happen tonight.”
She swallows. “Not tonight?”
I shake my head. “Not tonight. You’re exhausted, and I want you to focus on my task list rather than overthinking.”
The dark circles beneath her eyes prove the point.
“Task list?”
I nod but press my finger against her lips so I can finish.
“You’ve had enough excitement tonight, and so once we get to your home, you’re going to go to your room and get into your nest.”
“How do you know it’s in my room?” she whispers against my finger.
I tap her lips, and she cheekily nips the tip of it, causing me to growl softly.
My dick twitches.
Fucking insatiable piece of meat.
“You’re going to put some music on, or an audiobook, or TV, or whatever you do when you’re alone and don’t want the silence,” I continue, and she’s looking at me in awe as if I’ve read her mind and learnt the inner workings of how she exists.
I have. Sort of.
Months ago, when she came for her interview, I became a little obsessed. Now I’m finally putting all that knowledge to use.
“And you’re going to turn off your alarms—”
She gasps now, her scent spiking with anxiety. “But—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” I cut her off, and she stills.
Good fucking girl.
“Trust me, little moon,” I say gently. “You’re going to sleep until you wake up, and then you can shower, get dressed, and come into work. I will clear it, and you will obey.”
She ducks her head, her hair falling to cover her face.
“I know that’s going to be hard for you,” I murmur, and she nods weakly. “And I won’t make a habit of interfering with your work—”
“You won’t?” Her head jerks up now, and she’s looking at me with such hope.
“I won’t. But I know that Harlan’s going to be in late tomorrow, so he won’t care,” I continue.
She frowns but doesn’t ask about his late start.
Thank fuck.