Chapter 13 Lena
Silas radiated heat. His warmth was beyond tempting, urging me to resist the fear that surfaced whenever I let someone get too close.
Knox had been right. Survival was something I was very good at. That was the only reason I could do this now. Touch him willingly and accept the comfort he offered instead of shrinking away from it.
At first, it felt foreign and overwhelming in its closeness. Too much contact. Too many points of awareness. The instinct to flee clawed beneath my skin, wanting me to pull away before something bad could happen.
But then the cold loosened its icy grip.
Warmth seeped into my bones as my body melted into his and my anxiety eased inch by inch. Exhaustion followed close behind, settling over me like a weight I no longer had the strength to resist.
Then, as if to seal it, a low, nearly silent, alpha purr rumbled from Silas’s chest. The sound slipped past my defenses with ease, vibrating straight through the walls I’d built around myself and quieting my thoughts.
His purr sunk deep inside me, soothing in a way I hadn’t known I needed.
Soon, sleep claimed me before I could stop it, pulling me under as my racing thoughts finally quieted.
And I slept deeply, fully, and comfortably, until..
At some point in the night, I stirred, slipping one foot free from the rough army blanket, desperate for cool air against my overheated skin. Silas was still curled against my side, radiating heat like a furnace.
He had meant it when he said alphas ran hot. It was a biological difference between our designations, meant to aid in survival. I hadn’t realized just how hot until now.
The room, which had once felt colder than a freezer, seemed warmer simply from having both men in it.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed Knox still perched by the window, staring out into the night, watching and waiting under the cast of moonlight.
Sensing my attention on him, he turned.
“You okay, runt?” he asked quietly, head tilting. “Is my brother keeping you warm?”
I nodded.
“Good,” he said softly. “You’re being so good for us. I know how hard touch is for you.”
He shifted in the chair, turning fully toward me now. Then he took a sip from his canteen and brushed a few strands of fallen hair strands back from his face. His legs spread as he stretched, back arching briefly before he settled again, relaxed but alert.
“Can I ask you something?” he said after a moment.
I nodded.
"Does it feel good now? My brother pressed against you. Comforting and warming you? Or do you still want to run?"
I thought about what he was asking, searching for the answer. My instinct to flee was still there, always there, programmed with pain.
But it was... quieter now, growing easier to push aside when absolutely necessary.
My fingers tightened lightly in the blanket as I considered how to respond. Then I lifted my shoulders in a small, uncertain shrug.
He nodded, like that told him everything he needed.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “That tracks.”
His gaze flicked to Silas, still asleep beside me, then returned to my face. “My brother and I,” he continued, “we use touch to cause pain.”
I swallowed.
“Our hands have done what Marco did to you, to other people,” he said, voice calm but stripped of anything casual. “We’re trained to apply pressure with pain and break people until answers spill from lips that don’t want to open.”
The words sat heavy in the room.
“We were going to hurt you,” he said plainly.
Silas paused, watching me closely, gauging my reaction.
“But then something shifted,” he went on. “I’m not sure exactly when. Earlier for me than my brother. Maybe it was seeing the scars on your back. Maybe it was watching you flinch every time we got too close. But somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t want my touch to break you.”
His jaw flexed.
“I want it to do the opposite.”
He exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry hurting you ever crossed my mind.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I won’t lie and say we know how to heal someone,” he said after a moment. “We don’t. But we want to learn. And we won’t harm you. Not like he did. Never.”
His eyes held mine, steady and honest. “Do you understand? My brother and I are brutal men, and we do brutal things to people. That’s the truth of it.”
He didn’t look away when he said it.
“But now,” he continued, “we do them for you. For justice and for revenge.”
His gaze drifted, unfocused for a moment, as if he were looking back through years instead of across the room. “Marco should have paid a long time ago. For our mother, for that omega girl, for you, and for all the others whose names we’ll never know.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “And maybe once he’s gone, once we’ve wiped him from this world for good, something will finally loosen for you.”
His eyes came back to mine.
“Maybe then you won’t flinch when someone gets close,” he said. “Maybe you won’t feel like you have to run every time someone reaches for you.”
He paused, letting the words settle where they landed.
“Maybe then,” he finished, “you’ll feel safe. Maybe then you’ll be able to touch us without fear."
He leaned forward, eyes darkening.
“Would you like that, Lena? To feel our hands on you?” he asked quietly. “To feel pleasure from touch instead of fear?”
My breath hitched, fingers curling tighter into the blanket, and then, low in my body, the pulse returned.
“Nothing too fast,” he added, sensing my reservations. “Not all at once.” Knox's voice stayed calm. “Slow, careful, soft, touch that doesn’t take or demand anything from you. Touch that gives, that comforts and that… could offer more, if you want it to.”
My heartbeat picked up, loud in my ears. What did Knox mean by more?
“Do you want to let our hands move over your skin?” he went on, unhurried, “To enjoy touch the way an omega is meant to enjoy it. Touch that feels good, because it’s wanted, not because it’s taken.”
My teeth caught my lower lip, drawing it into my mouth as the low pulsing grew stronger, and a pressure built between my thighs. My scent shifted, answering his questions despite my silence. His nostrils flared, as a knowing glint entered his eyes.
“If you don’t want that,” he said evenly, “then nothing changes. We stop here. There are no conditions. You’ll still be safe and protected.”
“But if you want pleasure,” Knox said, leaning forward, “we’ll help you learn it again. Slowly. On your terms.”
He paused.
“From us.”
His words should have spiked my anxiety. Instead, a flicker of curiosity and something dangerously close to excitement rooted in me.
“Think about it and try to get some more sleep. We have a few hours until sunrise,” Knox said, already turning his attention back to the window.
I settled back down, relaxing against Silas, but my thoughts circled endlessly on Knox's words.
To let our hands move across your skin without fear.
A shiver ran through me.
Just as my eyelids grew heavy and sleep started taking hold, Silas’s arm slid around my middle. The movement was unconscious, reaching for my warmth in his sleep. His hand rested on my torso, my clothing the only barrier between his fingers and my skin.
He pulled me closer, and I felt the hard press of his body against me.
I gasped.
The bulge of his swollen knot.
I froze. Emotion crashed through me all at once, nerves and arousal tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Part of me wanted to lean into it, to enjoy alpha touch the way other omegas did, because it felt good. Because my body was made to crave it.
Some omegas maintained their virginity, believing it made them more valuable during pack placement. Purity still mattered to a lot of alphas, especially the wealthy, possessive ones looking for something untouched to claim.
I had never cared much about that. The idea of saving myself so some future alphas would see me as more desirable had always felt wrong to me. I didn’t want to hand anyone another reason to think they owned me.
So before my capture, I’d had a few tentative, fumbling sexual experiences.
A couple of beta boyfriends in high school, boys who understood sex about as little as I did.
Awkward moments in the backseats of cars, nervous touches, testing boundaries and figuring out limits together.
I’d only had sex a handful of times. It had never been life-changing, but it had never been frightening either.
But my handlers were not boys.
They were men.
Alpha men.
And Marco had destroyed the confident, sexually curious version of myself I had once been growing into. Intimacy had become something I associated with fear, pain, and survival. I never thought I would want it again. Never thought I would crave touch instead of flinching from it.
Until them.
Until Knox's promise whispered in the dark.
We’ll help you learn pleasure again. Slowly. On your terms.
Heat sparked between my legs at those words, followed by that slow, aching throb, causing my breath to catch in my throat.
Silas’s hand slipped beneath the hem of my sweater, his touch teasing and gentle, brushing bare skin as if testing my reaction. I could tell he was being patient, despite his impulsive nature.
A small whimper escaped me.
Was it a plea for more or less?
I wasn’t sure.
His voice dropped so low that not even his brother, only feet away, could hear it. “Yes or no, little mute?” he murmured.
The question wasn’t demanding.
It was an offer, one I could choose.
Then with a subtle grind of his hips, his body betrayed his desire.
And still, he waited, fighting his alpha urges.
My fingers gripped his hand, holding it still, terrified of the places it might wander if I let go.
But part of me was more afraid it might not move at all.
Before reason or fear could interfere, my chin dipped with a quick nod. I released his hand, forcing mine back to my side.
That was all the permission he needed.