5. Silas
Chapter 5
Silas
S weat dripped from Silas’ brow, stinging his eyes with each heavy swing of the axe. His breaths puffed out in great white clouds in the misty, cold morning air.
Crack
Mate is here.
Crack
Mate is home.
Crack
Mate is in our bed.
Crack
Go check on him. Go scent him again, make sure he’s warm and safe and watch him breathe and find moisturizer and feed him pancakes and ? —
Crack
The repetitive exercise helped soothe the anxious thoughts still bouncing around in his head.
Silas had tried to sleep.
He’d shoved the lumpy pile of weeks-old clean laundry up against the wall and lay in the guest room for hours, listening to the sound of Sammy’s steady breathing across the hall.
But the itch to go stare—to watch those breaths move his mate’s chest up and down had been too much. He wasn’t ready to accept that he was that much of a creep.
Not yet, anyway.
So, after a few hours of fitful sleep, he’d shed his human clothes and shifted, donning the fur and teeth he’d been far more comfortable in for most of his life.
Setting an easy pace, he’d loped through the trees, planning on a quick perimeter run around Silver Rapids to ease his mind after everything that’d happened the night before.
Things were always simpler in his wolf form. He still felt emotions and understood that he wasn’t entirely an animal, but in this body, fully in his wolf’s mind, he could set aside the nagging anxiety over the future or fretting about the past, and focus on the now.
Usually, that was a relief. This morning, it’d been a constant stream of mate is at home, go back. Mate is alone, go back. Mate isn’t protected, go back.
He’d recognized the difference between this need to be close to Sammy and his wolf’s frantic warnings that something was wrong from the night before.
Still, the overwhelming sense of dread he felt when he thought about what could have happened was too fresh, too raw. So he’d circled back and decided to make the wood pile even bigger.
Just because.
Silas’ awareness of Finn and Sheppard had faded quickly last night. Either by distance or because no one was in imminent danger, Silas wasn’t sure, but he was relieved they weren’t all subjected to each other’s innermost thoughts all the time.
He’d never be able to look Jaime in the eye again if that were the case.
He added their newfound connection to the list of things he needed to ask someone who knew more about pack dynamics than him. Silas couldn’t remember his uncle ever mentioning a connection like this in any of his alpha lessons, and he was certain Cain would have used it to his advantage had he been able.
He’d planned on using this week off work to visit his parents, anyway. Maybe they’d be able to help. Silas’ insides warmed when he imagined bringing Sammy home to meet his family.
Yes, take him home.
Make him ours. Make him pack.
Silas wiped at his face with the bottom hem of his sleeveless hoodie and tied his hair in a half-up bun around his wolfy ears before he began stacking the split logs. He spent most of his time in his partial shift during the winter, unless he had to put his ears and canines away in town or around humans. It was easier to keep warm with the extra body mass and hair.
He really did have enough wood for the whole winter—more than enough, now. He’d have to take some around town for anyone who needed it.
As the pile grew larger and larger with each row he stacked, Silas thought back on last night, and how his wolf had chosen to posture the size of his wood pile in the most cringe-worthy speech he’d ever given.
He’d panicked when Sammy asked for his help in a ‘ these things would make my life a little better right now,’ sort of way, and not a ‘ my life’s in danger, please come save me,’ way.
Silas nearly wrecked the fucking vehicle when Sammy had pouted . God, he’d been so embarrassing after that.
It hadn’t been all bad, though. He grinned thinking back on a loopy, sleep-addled Sammy. He’d practically purred in Silas’ arms by the time he’d tucked him into bed, too sleepy to stop himself from nuzzling in close when Silas carried him up the stairs.
Once he was shown a little tenderness and affection, Silas’ alley-cat put the claws away and transformed into a fluffy kitten. Who knew?
While he stacked the firewood, Silas pondered a few other ways he could temporarily tame his mate, all of which included fewer clothes and sounded infinitely better than taking an Ativan.
I’m sure your wood is the biggest.
Oh, Sammy had no clue.
By the time Silas was finished, his cock was hard and aching, laying thick down the leg of his jeans from images of him and Sammy together. Fuck. He needed to take care of that before Sammy woke up, or else he’d be uncomfortable all day.
Quietly, Silas shuffled up the stairs and headed for the empty bathroom attached to Finn’s old room before he realized he’d need to grab the shampoo and body wash from his own shower first.
Moving so that his steps wouldn’t creak against the hardwood floor, Silas crept up to his bedroom door, where Sammy still lay asleep, quiet as a mouse.
Except, the room wasn’t entirely quiet. Just faintly, Silas could hear Sammy’s voice… calling out. Pleading? Yelling?
“Please, it’s too much. Oh, fuck, it’s too big!”
What the fuck?
Mate needs you! Mate is yelling! Protect! Protect!
Before he realized what he was doing, Silas whipped open the bedroom door, eyes darting around the room, searching for a threat—ready to rip out the throat of whoever had dared sneak past him and enter his mate’s room.
But he didn’t find a stranger.
Instead, his gaze settled on the bed, where Sammy was sitting up and very much awake, with a pair of Silas’ earbuds in.
He’d been listening to something on his phone.
Oh.
Oh.
Sammy reacted at the same time Silas realized he’d probably just walked in on his mate watching porn, which only made his hard-on worse.
“What the fuck are you doing? Do you not know how to knock? I thought you were outside!” Sammy yelled, taking out the earbuds and stomping right up to him.
“I heard you calling out. I thought you needed help, I didn’t realize…” Silas trailed off as he tried to process everything that’d just happened.
That hadn’t been porn. He’d heard Sammy’s voice through the earbuds; Silas was sure of it. And if he’d been speaking out loud, Silas would have heard him long before he’d crept over to the door.
Just to be sure, Silas scented the air around Sammy—he hadn’t been masturbating, either. There was a hint of fresh arousal, but nothing so strong as to suggest he’d just been interrupted.
“What were you listening to?” Silas asked.
Sammy clammed up, the tips of his ears turning delightfully pink. Silas would have to apologize for making fun of Finn’s inability to keep his hands to himself whenever Jaime blushed.
“Nothing,” Sammy said quickly. “I was… I was watching porn. Which is totally normal, by the way. What’s not normal is storming into someone’s bedroom!”
Silas cocked an eyebrow. He knew Sammy. Better than Sammy probably realized. He’d die before admitting he was doing something embarrassing. Which meant he was covering up for doing something else—something he thought was even more embarrassing.
Silas took a step closer. “You’re right. I would have knocked, had I not heard you calling out, begging for someone…” One more step. His cock throbbed when he realized Sammy was still in the oversized t-shirt he’d dressed him in last night.
He hadn’t let himself look, then. Hadn’t even wanted to, really. What Sammy had needed was to be cared for. He’d needed to be shown that he could let go and be soft, and it wouldn’t hurt.
And Silas had needed to be the one to give him that.
Nothing about sitting in the bathroom with his back to the tub while Sammy bathed, or even dressing him for bed had been sexual. Neither of them had been in the right frame of mind for it, and yet, it had been one of the most intimate moments of his life.
But this morning…
Yes. Sammy looked very good in Silas’ old t-shirt this morning.
Sammy still hadn’t spoken, so Silas leaned all the way down to whisper right into his ear. “That was your voice, love. I’d know it anywhere. What did you need help with so badly, hmm? I’d be happy to oblige if you’d repeat yourself.”
Sammy gulped, his fingers finding the hem of Silas’ sweatshirt. “It’s not what it sounded like. It’s… I wasn’t… It’s…”
He cut himself off, and Silas saw the shutdown coming. Saw the vulnerability leaving Sammy’s eyes.
With the lightest touch, Silas tilted his chin up and quietly asked, “Please, Sammy? Tell me something .”
Sammy’s eyes darted back and forth between his. Deciding.
They were at a crossroads. Silas hadn’t meant to bring them to one. Not now—not over this, when there were clearly far bigger secrets between them, but there they were, regardless.
Something shifted in Sammy’s gaze, as subtle and delicate as the ember of trust they’d coaxed to life last night. It was faint, smoldering low, but alive all the same.
“It’s for my job,” he said. “I was editing an audio recording for my job.” His voice was low but steady, and his shoulders relaxed as he spoke, like finally opening up relieved him of a heavy weight.
“Your job?” Silas asked, not understanding.
Sammy took a step back, pulling his face from Silas’ gentle grip, but he didn’t drop eye contact. “I record erotic audio content and post it on the internet. Sometimes for free. A lot of people pay though, through a subscription platform. It’s how I make money. I’ve never told Jaime, because… well, because. It’s my thing. Something that’s just for me. And it pays well.”
He finished with a defiant tilt of his chin, almost daring Silas to shame or tease him. To call him all the terrible things people in the sex industry had been called before.
Silas would never do that. “Do you enjoy it?” he asked.
Sammy blinked, opening and closing his mouth like he’d expected a battle, only to be shown a white flag. “Yes. Or, I did. I still do, I think, if I wasn’t…” he shook his head.
“If you weren’t…” Silas prompted.
Sammy pursed his lips. “You know how it is with every job. People get burned out. I’m burned out. I have been for quite a while, but I can’t stop, because… because. But yes, I do still enjoy it.”
The heat of arousal that had been clawing up Silas’ spine a few minutes ago was all mixed up now with the sheer joy of being trusted with something so dear to Sammy.
Silas nodded. “Ok.”
“Ok?” Sam asked.
Silas took another tentative step forward, closing the distance between them again. “Yeah, ok. Thank you for telling me. I’ll keep it to myself, but only because you haven’t shared it with anyone else we know—not because I don’t like it, or because I don’t think it’s hot.”
He leaned down to whisper in Sammy’s ear again; it had made him shiver and lean into Silas ever so slightly the first time. “Because I do think it’s really fucking hot, love.”
The second was just as rewarding.
Sammy’s breath whooshed out of him, warm on Silas’ neck through his sweat-soaked hoodie. His hands came up to press on Silas’ chest, not shoving him away, but not pulling him closer, either. “You don’t know that. You haven’t even heard it.”
Silas chuckled. For someone who was so cocksure most of the time, Sammy was clueless when it came to Silas’ feelings about him. “I don’t need to have heard it to know it’s hot. But I’d like to if you’d ever let me. Maybe we could listen together.” Silas’ face split in a wide smirk. “Or even better, maybe I could help you next time. I’d love to be your inspiration. ”
Sammy’s surprised gaze darted up to meet Silas’, before flicking down to his mouth and lingering there. “You’re teasing me,” he said, breathless.
Silas danced the tip of a claw along Sammy’s ear. “About this? Never,” he replied, leaning into the magnetic pull between them.
Sammy’s fingers dug harder into Silas’ hoodie, pulling him close, and his mouth was just a breath away. He smelled like simmering coals and Silas’ warm sheets. What would his lips taste like?
But then Sammy stepped away, releasing his hold on Silas as if it burned. “I should get ready for the day. I want to go pick up my car and see if anything’s salvageable from my apartment. Hopefully, I can find at least some clothes that’ll fit,” he said, so casually it gave Silas whiplash.
Fuck. It was always one step forward, ten steps back with them.
Every time Sammy opened up, Silas pushed too far, too soon. “Of course. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said, hoping the break in his voice wasn’t noticeable.
Sammy didn’t turn to look at him, but he surprised Silas for the second time that morning when he asked, “You said… last night, you said you could make pancakes?”
Silas had said a lot of things last night, but he took the olive branch for what it was. Rubbing the back of his neck, he answered, “Uh yeah, I did say that. And I can. Finn showed me how. He tried, anyway. He’s the one who’s good in the kitchen, not me.”
Sammy did turn then and smiled. Silas could bask in the warmth of it forever. “I’m a shit cook, too. The microwave is pretty much the only kitchen appliance I know how to use.”
Silas’ shoulders dropped, and he returned Sammy’s smile. “If I remember correctly, I still owe you breakfast. What do you say we get chocolate chip pancakes from someone who knows how to make them?”
That ember sparked in Sammy’s eyes. “Alright. Let’s go get chocolate chip pancakes.”
They actually made it to Andi’s this time.
“Silas, good to see you!” she greeted from the kitchen pass, dropping off a few plates.
He waved. “Morning, Andi.”
The surly teenage vampire she’d hired over the summer to help wait tables showed them to Silas’ usual back booth.
Andi had already decorated for autumn, tastefully weaving in warm oranges and yellows to the usual string lights she kept up year-round. She’d probably put up her Halloween decorations soon, too, like some of the other establishments had.
“Do you already know what you want?” the teen asked Silas, her mop of dark curly hair covering half her face. It was a fair question, considering he ate here three times a week.
“Could you give us a minute?” Silas asked, unsure if Sammy wanted to look over the menu.
She nodded and slinked back into the kitchen.
Sammy stared for a beat before leaning toward Silas across the table. “Was she…?” he whispered, gesturing vaguely at his own blunt canines.
Silas chuckled. “She’s a vampire, yeah. There’s a coven here in Silver Rapids. It’s small, but well-established. Depending on who you ask, they’re the ones who founded the town.”
Sammy cocked his head. “Really? How long ago? How does a place like this come to be? I mean, do you have like, underground advertisements or something? Is there a color spectrum all paranormals can see that humans can’t? Do you have a wolfy bat signal?”
Silas laughed. Was Sammy a history buff?
“No underground advertisements or secret color spectrums. At least none that I know of. But the paranormal community is fairly small—word about places like Silver Rapids gets around. And if you ask the vampires, the town was established hundreds of years ago,” Silas waved a hand, “before Alaska was even purchased by the U.S. from Russia.”
“So the vampires established Silver Rapids first?” Sammy prompted, eyes bright.
Silas tilted his head in a yes or no gesture. “ Maybe,” he said. “They say they were the first permanent paranormal community in the area, but there are a couple of shifter packs who claim Silver Rapids wasn’t settled until more people came together and built the town, and that before it was only a coven.”
“That’s so fucking cool,” Sammy breathed.
The server dropped a plate off at the booth across from where they sat, and Silas waved when he noticed Jared, the bookstore owner, sitting alone. He couldn’t be more than ten or fifteen years older than Silas and Finn, but his shock of thick, white hair and full white beard made him appear older.
He nodded once in acknowledgment, before tucking into his breakfast. Jared was a loner, but he’d always been kind.
“Are you ready now?” the server asked when she made her way back over.
As expected, Sammy ordered a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, but Silas wasn’t in the mood for something so sweet.
“Is there a special this morning?” he asked.
“Oh, um, yes. It’s Nashville hot chicken and waffles,” she said. “The chicken’s really spicy, though. I’m supposed to warn people.”
Silas groaned. It had been ages since he’d let himself have hot chicken. “I’d better just stick with the eggs and bacon, then. With an extra side of hash browns and sausage. And biscuits, please.”
“Eating light this morning?” Sammy asked as she walked away.
Silas winked, mostly just so he’d make that pinched face he did when he was pretending to not like something. “Careful love or I won’t share my biscuits with you. And yes, actually, that is light. When you’re as big as I am, you’ve gotta eat.”
Sammy blushed, and Silas would love to know what he was thinking. He always reacted in some way whenever Silas talked about how tall he was. Maybe he was self-conscious about his height?
He shouldn’t be. Sammy was delightfully compact.
Silas loved that he was small and yet sturdy enough to be thrown around without worrying about hurting him. He imagined Sammy’s thighs would be a good handful, something thick to hold on to when Silas folded him up like a parcel and drove his cock deep inside…
“Why didn’t you order the hot chicken?” Sammy asked.
Silas blinked, reorienting himself back to reality. “Huh?”
“The hot chicken, it sounded like you wanted to order it but changed your mind. Why?”
He contemplated deflecting for a heartbeat, but Sammy had shared something personal, hadn’t he? Silas could do the same. “I liked it too much at one point and regretted it a whole lot later if you know what I mean. I’d rather not have a repeat.”
The corner of Sammy’s mouth tipped up, and he snorted. Silas adored the unfiltered sound so much, the story spilled out of him before he could stop it.
Anything to hear Sammy laugh again.
“Years ago, when Finn, Sheppard, and I were in the military together, I ate one too many spicy chicken sandwiches before we went out on a training exercise in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. My choices came back to haunt me… explosively.”
Yeah, this is how you’ll woo him. Tell him all about the raging diarrhea that still haunts you ten years later. He’ll be begging to make out with you after this.
But as Silas spoke, Sammy chuckled, eyes bright, and Silas was a glutton for it. He continued, “So I stepped away from the team to take care of things, but my belt ended up tangled in my gear as I squatted down, and I tipped over ass first… into a cactus.”
Sammy was full-on belly-laughing now. It was one of those contagious half-wheeze laughs, and Silas couldn’t help joining in, even though he was sharing one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to him.
Still laughing, he finished, “And the worst part was, some of the cactus spines were so big they’d embedded too deep in my ass, so my skin was healing around them instead of purging them. Finn refused to pull them out, so we had to call the medic. He was cute—I’d wanted his number but couldn’t bring myself to ask him out after he’d dug around back there with a scalpel.”
Sammy was laughing so hard tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Silas had never seen him like this—loud and unguarded. It felt like he’d pulled back a curtain; like he was seeing something not many others were honored with.
This relaxed, carefree version of Sammy was entrancing, and Silas felt gravity shift again, just a little. Except this time, it wasn’t the mate bond.
It was his heart.
Silas passed him a napkin while Sammy wiped at the corners of his eyes. “That’s the best story I’ve heard in a long fucking time,” he said, still chuckling. “I’m sorry your run-in with the cactus cock-blocked you with the cute medic,” he teased.
Silas shook his head, drunk on the moment. “I’m not. It doesn’t matter. I’m right where I want to be.”
Careful, Silas. Careful.
Warm embers shone in Sammy’s eyes. They’d cultivated those together. “If you ever decide you want to try hot chicken again, make sure I’m the prickliest thing nearby. Your ass is safe from me.”
Well, that’s a shame.
The joke was on the tip of Silas’ tongue, but their angsty teenage vampire server appeared just then with their food. It was probably for the best, anyway. Silas had already pushed his luck far enough this morning, and he didn’t want to dampen the heat building between them again.
They tore into their breakfast, with the warmth from those embers in Sammy’s eyes lingering. He was still keeping secrets. Big ones, if last night was any indication.
He’d shared one, though. That was a start.
Silas knew he was playing with fire by opening himself back up to this push-and-pull dance with Sammy. He knew he’d be burned again before they were done, unable to stop himself from falling hard and fast.
But as long as Sammy stayed, as long as he didn’t leave, Silas could keep him safe. He could wait him out. He’d dance for as long as Sammy needed; he’d dance forever.
The flame hadn’t gone out, after all.