Chapter 20 #2
"It means something." He finished, his hand sliding from my cheek to cup the back of my neck, his touch firm and grounding.
"Gumbo's the same way. Patient. Watchful.
Testing everyone who comes close to you.
" His thumb stroked the sensitive skin below my ear, making me shiver.
"He let me sit beside him on the dock. Didn't hiss, didn't posture.
Just watched." Something shifted in his expression—satisfaction, maybe.
Belonging. "Predators recognize each other.
" He added, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.
"You've been watching me." I said it without accusation, a statement rather than a question, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I held his gaze. I'd known since the beginning—felt his eyes on me from the shadows, tracking my movements through town, cataloging my habits.
"Yes." No shame, no apology. Just truth, stripped bare.
"The way I watch wounded things. Looking for what's broken.
What needs protecting." His grip on my neck tightened slightly, not painful, just present.
"I've been watching since you brought me that hawk.
Since you looked at my scars and didn't flinch.
" He leaned closer, his breath warm against my forehead.
"Been waiting until I was sure." He murmured, his lips brushing my hairline.
"Sure of what?" I asked, my hands finding his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my palms like a caged thing fighting for freedom, steady and strong and so much faster than his calm exterior suggested.
"That you could handle what I am." He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, letting me see everything he usually kept hidden—the darkness, the violence, the desperate hunger for connection that he'd buried under silence and stillness for so long.
"I'm not soft, Artemis. Not gentle. The things I've done.
.." His jaw clenched, shadows moving behind his pale eyes.
"I don't know how to be what people want.
What they expect." He admitted, the words rough like they'd been dragged out of him.
"I don't want soft." I rose on my toes, bringing my face closer to his, close enough to count his eyelashes, to see the ring of darker gray around his pupils.
"I don't want gentle. I want real." I fisted my hands in his dark shirt, feeling the lean muscle beneath, the coiled tension he kept so carefully leashed.
"I want you, Silas. Exactly as you are." I told him, fierce and certain.
Something cracked behind his eyes—a wall crumbling, a dam breaking. He made a sound low in his throat, not quite a growl, not quite a groan, and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was nothing like Harper's passionate intensity or Remy's playful hunger.
This was deliberate. Thorough. Consuming.
He kissed me like he was mapping unknown territory, learning every ridge and valley, claiming each inch with methodical precision.
His hand stayed firm on the back of my neck, holding me exactly where he wanted me, and I let him—surrendered to his control in a way I'd never surrendered to anyone.
A purr started in my chest—low and involuntary, the omega response I usually kept locked down tight. I didn't want to lock it down. Not with him. Not now.
He let out a low rumble in response—low and long and so deep I felt it in my bones. The sound did something to me, unraveled something I hadn't known was wound tight, and I found myself tilting my head back, baring my throat to him without conscious thought.
He went completely still.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The sun was fully up now, painting the clearing in shades of gold and green, and somewhere in her enclosure Luna had risen to watch us with amber eyes.
I kept my throat bared, my pulse hammering visibly beneath my skin, offering him the most vulnerable part of me with trust I hadn't planned to give.
Then his mouth found my neck. Not biting—not yet, not that.
Just his lips pressing against my pulse point, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, his teeth scraping gently against my scent gland in a way that made my knees buckle.
He caught me easily, one arm wrapping around my waist to pull me flush against him, and then he was scent-marking me with deliberate, devastating intent.
"Silas." His name came out as a whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders, my whole body trembling with the intensity of it.
"Mine." The word was barely audible, growled against my throat, his nose tracing the line from my ear to my collarbone. "Not yet. But soon. If you want." He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his pale gaze blazing with something that looked like hope and terror twisted together.
"I want." I pulled him back down, kissing him hard, pouring every ounce of certainty I had into the press of my lips against his, my fingers tangled in his dark hair.
"Thursday." I gasped when we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, my lips swollen and tingling.
"I have something to tell all of you. Together.
" I pressed my forehead against his, feeling his pulse racing to match mine, his hands still gripping my waist like he couldn't bear to let go.
"About the pack." It wasn't a question, his voice low and certain, his pale eyes searching mine with that unnerving intensity that saw too much, always saw too much.
"About the pack." I confirmed, reaching up to trace the sharp line of his jaw with trembling fingers, the stubble rough against my fingertips, my heart still racing from the kiss.
"About what I want. Who I want." I smiled, watching something fierce and hopeful bloom across his features, softening the sharp edges of his face.
"All of you." I added, soft but certain, letting him see the truth of it in my eyes.
He kissed me again—softer this time, almost reverent—and then tucked me against his side, his arm heavy and warm around my shoulders. We stood there watching Luna watch us, two predators circling each other, recognizing something kindred in the way we moved through the world.
"Tell me about her." I said after a while, my voice soft so as not to disturb the peaceful morning, nodding toward the wolf who had settled back onto her paws, amber eyes half-closed in the warming light.
"How did you find her?" I asked, leaning into Silas's warmth, feeling his arm tighten around me.
"Poacher's trap." His voice went flat, dangerous.
"Up near the state line. Someone reported hearing howling for three days straight.
" His arm tightened around me. "By the time I got there, she'd chewed halfway through her own leg trying to get free.
" He paused, his jaw working. "Most people would have put her down.
Damaged goods. Too far gone." He shook his head slowly.
"I saw something else." He finished quietly.
"What did you see?" I tilted my head to look up at him, my hand resting on his chest, watching the play of emotions across his usually impassive face.
"A survivor." He met my eyes, something raw and honest in his gaze.
"Something that refused to die, no matter how much it hurt.
Something worth saving." His thumb traced circles on my shoulder.
"I see a lot of that, in this work. Animals that should give up but don't. That keep fighting even when there's no reason to.
" He paused, his pale eyes distant. "Reminds me of the men I served with.
The ones who didn't make it back." He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Marcus. Jonesy. DeShawn. Tommy." I said their names softly, remembering when he'd first told me, the weight of them on his tongue.
His whole body went still, then slowly relaxed, something like wonder crossing his features. "You remembered." He said, his voice rough with emotion he was clearly trying to contain.
"Of course I remembered." I reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at me.
"They mattered to you. That means they matter to me.
" I held his gaze, willing him to understand.
"You carry them with you every day. The least I can do is help carry their names.
" I told him softly. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch, and I felt the tremor that ran through him.
"Breakfast." He said finally, his voice rough with emotion he was clearly trying to contain, his thumb brushing across my lower lip one last time before he stepped back.
"Mae's diner. She makes good biscuits." He added, already steering me toward the truck with a hand on the small of my back like it belonged there, like he'd been guiding me through the world his whole life.
"Biscuits sound perfect." I let him guide me toward the truck, still feeling the ghost of his mouth on my throat, the claiming weight of his scent settling into my skin like it belonged there.
The drive to Mae's felt familiar now—the squat building with its hand-painted sign, the parking lot full of work trucks, the kind of place that had been there forever and would be there long after everything else crumbled.
Silas parked around back in the same spot as last time, away from the other vehicles, and came around to open my door before I could reach the handle.
"She'll want details." He warned, his pale eyes scanning the lot out of habit, checking exits and sight lines even in familiar territory. "Mae. About... us. She's persistent." He added, something that might have been affection warming his rough voice.
"I can handle persistent." I grinned up at him, taking his hand as we walked toward the entrance, our fingers lacing together naturally. "I handle you three, don't I?" I teased, bumping my shoulder against his arm.