Chapter 27 – Silas
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SILAS
My eyes snap open, a rogue breath dragging back into my lungs like I’ve been drowning. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. Then it hits. The pain. The darkness. Her. Lilith.
My chest tightens as I turn my head, and there she is.
Curled against me, her golden hair spilt across my chest like sunlight I don’t deserve to touch again.
Relief crashes into me so violently that it almost hurts.
Relief, then something deeper. Darker. Hunger.
Not just for blood. For her. Always her.
I move before I can think, rolling us so she’s beneath me.
She barely has time to wake before her eyes fly open wide, stunned, those emerald depths locking onto mine.
“Silas,” she breathes, like she’s afraid I’m not real.
“Firefly,” I rasp, my voice rough, dragged from somewhere broken inside me.
I take her in; really look at her. The shadows beneath her eyes, the grief still clinging to her like it hasn’t let go.
Because of me. A sob catches in her throat, her hand trembling as it lifts, brushing my cheek like she’s afraid I’ll disappear. I turn into her touch, pressing my lips to her palm, closing my eyes as I breathe her in. Home. She’s always been my home.
“Silas, I—”
“Shh.” My voice drops, softer, but firm. “No words.”
Because if she speaks—if she says the things I already know—I might break.
Instead, I take her hand and guide her with me.
Steam fills the air as the shower comes to life, heat wrapping around us, but it doesn’t come close to the fire already burning beneath my skin.
Clothes fall away without thought, without hesitation, until there’s nothing left between us.
No barriers. No distance. She stands there, watching me like I’m something fragile and dangerous all at once.
And I realize I nearly lost this. I nearly lost her.
The thought twists something vicious inside me.
I step closer, slow and intentional, like claiming ground that was always mine.
Water runs over her skin, tracing every curve, every line I’ve memorized in silence for years.
My hands follow, slower, reverent, like I’m relearning her, like I need to make sure she’s real.
She shivers beneath my touch, but doesn’t pull away.
Never pulling away. I lower my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling, the space between us charged with everything we never said.
“You felt it,” I murmur, my voice low, rough with something deeper than desire.
“Even when you didn’t understand it, you felt me.
” Her lips part slightly, breath unsteady.
“I was always yours,” I continue, quieter now, but more dangerous.
More certain. My hand slides to the back of her neck, holding her there; not forceful, but unyielding.
Grounding. Claiming. “You can run,” I whisper against her lips.
“You can fight it. Hate me. Blame me.” My eyes lock onto hers, dark and unwavering.
“But it won’t change what you are to me.
” My thumb brushes along her jaw, slow, deliberate. “What you’ve always been.”
Her breath catches as I lean closer, my voice dropping to something almost feral, barely restrained.
“Mine.” The word isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be. It settles into the space between us like something ancient. Unbreakable. My lips brush hers; not a kiss yet, just the promise of one. The tension. The inevitability.
“And I’m done letting you go.” This time, when I kiss her, it isn’t hesitant.
It isn’t careful. It’s everything I’ve held back every year, every moment, every sacrifice poured into something that feels dangerously close to forever.
Her hands clutch at me like she’s just realised the same thing.
Like she understands now. Not just what we are.
But what we’ve always been. Bound. Chosen. Inevitable.
My hands move over her like I’m relearning something sacred, something I almost lost. Every curve, every breath, every small sound that falls from her lips pulls something darker, deeper out of me.
She feels like fire beneath my hands. Alive.
Mine. Her soft moans break against my mouth as I kiss her again and again, like I can’t get enough, like I never will.
I lift her, needing her closer and closer still, and she wraps herself around me without hesitation, as she belongs there. Like she always has.
A low, desperate sound leaves my chest at the contact.
This isn’t just hunger. It’s something far more dangerous.
Far more permanent. My grip tightens as I press her back, her body arching into mine, as I fill her, feel her body stretching around me.
Her head tips back in surrender, baring her throat to me.
An offering. A trust that nearly undoes me.
“Feed from me,” she breathes. The words hit like a spark to gasoline.
Desire and blood lust collide, twisting together into something explosive; something I can’t separate anymore.
Something I don’t want to separate. I hesitate for the briefest second, feeling it.
That pull. That bond is waiting just beneath the surface.
Ready. Waiting for me to take it. To take her.
My mouth finds her neck; not rushed, not careless, but deliberate.
Reverent. Claiming. She gasps, her walls tightening around my cock buried deep inside her as I give in, as instinct takes over, as need finally wins.
Her reaction shatters whatever restraint I had left.
Everything inside me surges, dark, possessive, and absolute.
She isn’t just someone I want. She never has been.
She’s the one I was meant to find. The one I was meant to keep.
My hands tighten at her waist, holding her like she might slip away if I don’t anchor her here, if I don’t bind her to me in a way nothing can break.
I feel it then. The bond. The thread. That invisible tether stretching between us, waiting for me to pull it tight.
To seal it. To make it unbreakable. I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her eyes flutter open, burning desire colliding with mine.
“I’m going to mark you,” I murmur, my voice low, rough with something ancient and final.
“Not just here, not just now.” My hand lifts, brushing her cheek as I thrust up, her plump lips parting.
“I’m binding you to me. To what I am. To what I’ll always be.
To what I have always been.” My gaze locks onto hers, leaving no room for doubt.
No room for escape. “Yours.” I thrust again, feeling her tighten.
“To what you are to me, to what you’ve always been to me.
” I thrust again. “Mine,” I growl possessively. “For eternity.”
I pause just enough to give her the choice; the last one she’ll ever have without me.
“This is it, Firefly,” I whisper. “Your last chance to walk away.” The air between us tightens, charged, waiting.
Her breathing is uneven, her body trembling; not with fear, but with something deeper.
Stronger. Her eyes darken, that vivid emerald burning brighter, fiercer.
“Mark me,” she breathes. No hesitation. “Make me yours.” Something inside me snaps.
Not breaking. Becoming. My mouth crashes to hers; not gentle, not restrained.
Final. Claiming. A promise. A vow. Everything I am, everything I’ve fought, everything I nearly lost—everything we nearly lost—pours into this moment.
Into her. The bond ignites. Not soft. Not subtle.
It burns. Through me. Through her. Through whatever exists beyond.
I feel it wrap around us tight, unyielding, pulling us together in a way nothing will ever undo. Not time. Not death.
Her nails dig into my flesh, her green eyes flare, my name tearing from her lips like a prayer, like she finally understands what we are now.
What we’ve become. What we should have always been.
The pleasure becomes too much, her back arching, her head rolling back on her shoulders.
My climax joins hers; a deep, low, feral growl roars from my lips as pleasure consumes every part of me.
“Silas,” she breathes on a whisper, her body shuddering against mine.
And when it settles, the world finally stills around us.
There’s no space left between us that isn’t shared.
No part of her isn’t tied to me. No part of me that isn’t bound to her.
Not just in this undead life. But in every one that comes after. Mine. Forever.