Chapter Thirty-Four
Silas
The hall feels like a prison, its grand walls and arched ceiling closing in around me. The air, thick with the acrid scent of cigar smoke and the faint tang of leather polish, sticks in my throat.
I sit rigidly, my fingers gripping the edges of the chair so tightly I can feel the wood creak beneath my touch. My nails bite into the polished surface, an unrelenting testament to my effort to remain calm.
My family’s words, however, make that near impossible.
“Recessive.”
“Not one of us.”
“Sullied the bloodline.”
Each insult lands like a lash against my skin, each syllable another nail hammered into the coffin of my restraint. My jaw tightens, the muscles in my face aching from the effort it takes to stay silent. My teeth grind together, the faint crunch reverberating in my ears. Somewhere in my chest, a growl begins to brew, low and dangerous, like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm.
But I keep my head bowed. Not out of shame—never that—but to contain the fury boiling inside me. If I so much as glance at one of them, if I see their smug, venomous faces, I know I’ll snap.
Adriel sits beside me, a storm in his own right. The air around him crackles with suppressed energy, the kind that warns of something about to break. I can feel his tension radiating off him, a palpable force that matches my own. His hands rest on the table, but his fingers twitch, his nails extending slightly, betraying his control.
When I glance at him, our eyes meet for the briefest of moments.
In that second, I see everything I’m feeling mirrored in his gaze. Rage. Disgust. An unyielding protectiveness. His lips are pressed into a thin, unforgiving line, his nostrils flaring slightly with each controlled breath. He doesn’t need to say a word. I know what he’s thinking: These fools have no idea who they’re talking about. They don’t know her. They don’t deserve to even utter her name.
And then Nicholas, my uncle, seals his fate.
Leaning forward, he speaks with that insufferable sanctimony older people always seem to have when they offer unsolicited advice. His voice drips with disdain, every word sharpened to cut deep. “It’s shameful, Silas. You, the most powerful Alpha of Howls Peak, lowering yourself to…that. A Recessive who’s not even one of our kind, not even from our land. Can she even bear you pups? Or will you waste years on her, only to realize she’s barren? You’ve brought disgrace to our bloodline.”
The hall falls silent.
His words hang in the air, a toxic cloud choking the life out of me.
The chair scrapes against the polished floor as I rise, my body moving before my mind can catch up. The world slows, and then it explodes.
Screw this.
One moment, I’m human; the next, my wolf takes over. My bones twist and crack, fur bursts from my skin, and my vision sharpens as the transformation consumes me. I leap across the table with an animalistic grace, my claws skidding against the polished wood.
Nicholas barely has time to react.
I’m on him.
The last words that left his lips send me into a wild frenzy.
My jaws clamp down on his shoulder, the force of my bite sending shock waves up my jaw. Blood floods my mouth, warm and metallic, as his scream shatters the tense silence. He thrashes around, his hands clawing at the ground as he tries to pull away. Futile. My teeth sink deeper, slicing through flesh and crushing bone with a satisfying crunch.
“Silas!” someone yells, but their voice is distant, muffled by the pounding of blood in my ears.
Chairs scrape and topple as others rise to their feet, their movements frantic. I hear growls—low, warning notes from those too foolish to stay seated. Some half-shift, their forms grotesque hybrids of man and wolf, ready to intervene.
I’ll rip them all apart if it comes to it.
But then Adriel steps forward.
Even in his partial transformation, he’s a force to be reckoned with. His claws extend fully, glinting in the dim light, and his blue eyes burn with a fury that silences the room. He plants himself between me and the advancing crowd, his shoulders squared and his growl low, resonant. “I dare any one of you to try something,” he snarls, his voice a challenge, a promise of violence.
The room freezes.
I release Nicholas with a final snarl, blood dripping from my fangs as I step back. My breathing is heavy, ragged, each exhale a hot puff of fury. The pain of the shift back to human form barely registers. Naked and unyielding, I stand over him, my chest heaving as I glare down at his crumpled form.
Nicholas clutches his mangled leg, his face contorted in agony. His lips tremble, but no words come.
“With your age,” I say coldly, my voice cutting through the hall like a blade, “that should take about a week to heal. You’ll live. But if you ever speak about my mate like that again, I’ll take your head off.”
I turn my gaze to the rest of the room, my eyes locking with each of theirs. Fear flickers in their expressions—widened eyes, clenched jaws, tense shoulders. Some look away, unable to meet my glare. Others hold my gaze but with trepidation rather than defiance.
“Let this be a lesson,” I growl, my voice a rumbling threat. “If anyone—anyone—disrespects Danae like that again, Nicholas’s leg will look like a scratch compared to what I’ll do to you.”
Silence.
It’s deafening.
And then the realization hits me, sudden and all-consuming. It takes my breath away, leaving me momentarily stunned.
I’m in love with her.
Listening to them talk about her like that, watching the looks on their faces as they demeaned her, was too much. I couldn’t stand it.
And now I know that I’m in love. There’s no doubting it. No one makes me as protective as she does. For no one else would I be standing here, ready to go to war with my own flesh and blood. But I’ll do it for her, over and over, and without thinking twice.
The thought is a lightning bolt, electrifying and inescapable. It makes my stomach twist and my heart ache in equal measure. This isn’t just rage. This isn’t just pride or a need to protect my mate. This is love—raw, unfiltered, and terrifying.
Without another word, I turn and leave the hall. All I can think about is the need to see her. To look into her eyes and feel the warm skin of her hand against mine.
My movements are sharp, purposeful. Adriel follows close behind, his footsteps echoing mine.
“Put on some clothes, hothead,” he quips, tossing a robe at me.
I catch it and throw him a glare, slipping it on hastily. “You were just as mad as I was.”
He smirks, though his eyes still gleam with anger. “Yeah, but I didn’t maim anyone…yet.”
We ascend the stairs quickly. Each step feels like a lifetime, the urgency clawing at my chest. Finally, we reach her room.
I push the door open and stop cold.
It’s empty.
The bed is perfectly made, untouched. The closet stands ajar, half its contents missing. Her suitcase is gone.
Panic rises in my throat like bile.
“What the hell?” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper.
Adriel moves past me, his sharp gaze taking in every detail of the room. “It looks like she left in a hurry,” he says, his tone low but grim.
The words hang in the air. My pulse quickens, and my thoughts spiral.
Why would she leave? Did someone say something?
A voice behind us makes us turn.
“She’s gone.”
Joseph stands in the doorway, his face pale, his usual calm shattered.
“Gone?” I echo, the word foreign and wrong in my mouth.
“I saw her leaving,” he explains, his voice trembling. “She looked upset. I tried to stop her, but she begged me to let her go. I couldn’t say no. The driver took her to the airport.”
“The airport?” Adriel snaps, his disbelief mirroring my own.
The world tilts. I can barely breathe, the panic now a full-blown storm in my chest. Without thinking, I step out onto the balcony, the cold air biting against my skin.
The sky is dark, the clouds thick and swirling ominously. The wind howls, carrying the scent of an approaching storm. My hands grip the railing tightly as my mind races.
Was I too harsh? Did I push her away?
The anger I felt earlier now feels misplaced, pointless. A gnawing guilt settles in its place, clawing at my insides.
“Silas,” Adriel’s voice pulls me back, and I turn to see him and Joseph standing in the doorway.
I step back inside, the urgency in my movements matching the chaos in my mind. “Damn it, Joseph!” I snap, my voice raw. “You shouldn’t have let her go! The weather…it’s horrible!”
Joseph stammers, his hands raised defensively. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Before I can respond, a maid approaches cautiously, her eyes darting nervously between the three of us.
“Master Silas,” she begins, her voice trembling slightly, “if I may…Madam Danae asked me to bring her a pregnancy test kit earlier today. I don’t know if this is of any importance, but…”
Pregnant.
The word slams into me like a freight train.
Adriel and Joseph exchange shocked looks, but I can’t focus on them. My mind is spinning, replaying every moment of the past few days, every interaction with Danae.
She’s pregnant.
And she’s out there, somewhere, in the middle of a storm.
And somewhere out there, Danae is alone.