13. Silas

SILAS

Lifting my head, I let out a howl that echoes through the forest, a warning to any threat lurking in the darkness. My senses are heightened, every sound and scent crisp and clear. I prowl the perimeter, my paws silent on the forest floor. Mika's scent lingers in the air, mingled with her fear and confusion. Damn, she must think I'm some sort of supernatural freak show. No better than the stalker she's been running from.

Determined to prove her wrong, I double down on my efforts to protect her. Running through the woods, my paws pound against the earth as I replay the events of the past few days. I feel like I've already fucked this all up.

If I could go back to the beginning and figure out some way to be honest from the start, I would. But how could I explain my true nature to a woman who's been hunted for years? How could I convince her that I wasn't here to harm her?

I know I need to give her space, but the thought of being rejected by a second mate gnaws at me. The first time was years ago, when my former mate left me without an explanation. It was only through the grapevine that I heard she'd become a chosen mate to a prince. I curse under my breath, a primal growl rumbling deep in my chest. Rejection is a risk inherent to every relationship, but being rejected by a mate who's fated to you is something else all together. Not only is there the humiliation within the pack, but there's also the physical pain that comes from the mystical bond being severed. It's an open wound that never seems to heal. I don't think I could survive it a second time.

I stalk back toward the safe house, my claws digging into the earth, extended and ready to tear into anything that dares to threaten Mika. But as I approach, I catch a whiff of cinnamon and regret. Mika is sitting on the porch, a steaming mug cradled in her hands. She looks up at me as I approach, her eyes wide and uncertain.

"Hey," she says, drawing the blanket she has around her shoulders a little closer. She sets her mug of hot chocolate down and then picks up her notebook, setting it on her lap with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I figured you wanted the journal that night I first saw you up here." Her voice is a soft whisper, and she drops the book on the chair beside her. "You can read it if you want. It's a dream journal."

My paws shift nervously on the porch, claws retracting as I try to appear non-threatening. I can't talk to her when I'm like this—not until after I've marked her, anyway. So my only option here is to hang back and listen.

"I like to write down anything I can remember. Dreams are the window to our subconscious, you know? They expose our truth, our fears and our desires." She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, and I can't help but follow her every movement. Her eyes are like pools of liquid chocolate, deep and inviting. Her lips are slightly parted, and I imagine how they'd feel against mine as I stripped her bare and claimed her as my own.

"I've been having a lot of dreams lately about you."

She swallows, her throat bobbing with the motion, and I can"t help but watch, my eyes drawn to the pale skin of her throat. She glances at me, a blush coloring her cheeks. "At first, you were just watching me from a distance. Eyes in the dark. But then you started to come closer. Sometimes you were human. Sometimes you were the wolf. But it was always you." She shifts, looking down as the blush deepens. "And then... well, the dreams started to change. You were...you weren"t just watching anymore."

I feel a growl rumbling in my chest, low and soft. It"s not a threat. It"s something else, something primal and possessive that urges me to claim her here and now. But instead, I hold back and watch as her blush deepens, her hand playing nervously with a loose thread on her blanket. "I'm still mad at you," she adds abruptly, breaking the charged silence. Her gaze snaps up to meet mine, fierce and defiant despite the heat in her cheeks. "I'm mad at you for not telling me you knew who Henry was."

I sit back on my haunches, the growl quieting in my chest. I knew this was coming, knew that she"d be angry when she found out about Henry hiring me. But what was I supposed to do? Tell her outright and risk her fleeing? Or keep it to myself and risk her wrath? Seems I chose the latter and, as predicted, I"m in hot water now. But at least she's talking to me.

"I"m mad at you for inserting yourself in my life so easily, for making me trust you. And I'm mad at myself for letting it happen." She rolls her lips together and looks away, arms crossed over her chest as if to comfort herself.

"But even more than that," she continues, her voice shaking slightly. "I"m mad at you for making me want you. For making me dream about you." She pauses, her blazing eyes returning to mine. "For making me love you."

Those last two words ring out in the air between us, and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, stunned. My heart pounds in my chest, a wild rhythm that matches the shock coursing through my veins. She loves me?

I shift forward slightly, lowering my head in a gesture of respect and silent apology.

She sighs in response, running a hand through her hair before wiping away the stray tears that are tracking down her cheeks. "But I get why you did it, Silas. I do. I believe you when you say you came here to protect me. And honestly, I probably wouldn't have even spoken to you if I knew Henry had been in contact with you."

She sniffles, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her chin down. "And I"m starting to think that maybe I need you more than I thought I did," she admits in a whisper. "Ever since I started running, I haven"t slept properly without waking up in cold sweat. But ever since you came into my life, the nightmares have turned into dreams. About you. And it feels... safer with you around."

My heart aches at her confession. I want to wrap my arms around her, to offer her comfort and reassurances. But I can"t—not while I"m in this form. So instead, I shift to lie down beside her, resting my head on my front paws and letting out a soft puff of air. I watch her as she hesitates, then reaches out and touches my fur.

Her hand is warm as it digs into my coat, and I can feel the tremors running through her fingers. "I"ve never seen someone shift before," she whispers. "Hell, I didn't even know a person could shift outside of stories."

I let out a soft huff of air in response and lay there, still and silent, as she continues to explore my fur. Her fingers are light and gentle as they weave through my coarse hair, tracing along the lines of my muscles with a touch that"s as intimate as it is innocent. I want to growl, to purr, to rumble with all the emotions this woman—this beautiful, resilient creature—manages to provoke in me. But I don"t. Instead, I let her touch ground me, bring me back from the edge of my primal instincts.

"You must think it"s weird," she mutters, her blush returning as she continues to stroke my fur. "You know, me...me touching you like this."

I huff again. It"s not weird. It"s more than I"ve ever wanted or dared hope for.

"I"m rambling, aren"t I?" she murmurs, pulling back her hand and wiping it on her jeans. "Ignore me. It"s just... you"re a lot softer than I thought you"d be."

I snort softly in response, my chest rumbling with laughter. She thinks I"m soft? Only her.

"Do you know how badly I want to see you shift?" she asks, her words a delicate whisper against the silence of the night. I flick my ears in response, lifting my head to meet her gaze. "I mean... if you"re comfortable with that."

My heart thrums in my chest, a wild tempo that matches the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can only imagine what it must be like for her, finding out about this world that lies hidden beneath the surface of normalcy. I nudge at her hand with my nose, trying to convey my consent without words.

She hesitates, then nods, getting up from her seat and taking a step back to give me space.

The transformation is nothing glamorous. It"s a painful contortion of muscles and bones as I shift back to my human form. I sense Mika tense up as she watches, her eyes wide with fascination and a touch of fear. I can"t blame her; every part of me screams in protest, the change is not a gentle one. But it"s over almost as quickly as it starts, leaving me crouched on the ground, panting heavily and slick with sweat.

"Jesus," Mika mutters, her eyes still wide as she takes in my nude form. "I didn"t...it"s not like the movies, is it?"

"No," I say, grabbing the blanket she abandoned and using it to wrap around my waist. "Not in the least."

There's a pause then, filled with the sound of crickets chirping and night creatures stirring. Mika"s gaze roams, taking in the ink and scars marring my skin, the raw muscle left behind from my shift.

"I can shift back if it makes you more comfortable," I offer, my voice low.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I don't want that." She stands, her eyes roaming over my bare chest before she moves, coming to stand in front of me. Her eyes trail over each of the markings that coat my skin, her fingers tracing the edge of a skull inked onto my bicep before trailing lightly over a particularly gnarly scar that runs between my shoulder and pec. Her touch sends a shiver down my spine.

"What happened?" she asks softly, her eyes meeting mine.

"Life," I reply with a small, bitter smile. "Being in the Pack, the battles, the fights. It's all part of it. I'm not a good man, Mika. But I'll always be good to you."

Her gaze softens, lingering on my face longer than I expect before she pulls her hand away. "I never asked for a good man, Silas," she murmurs. "Just an honest one."

Her words hang between us, an unspoken understanding blossoming in the quiet night. Mika steps closer, bridging the gap between us. I"m not what she"s used to—the tattooed, muscled shifter with a rough past and a penchant for danger. But she doesn"t flinch away, doesn"t retreat back into her shell of caution and fear. Instead, she"s here, standing in front of me under the moonlight, looking at me with those clear, defiant eyes.

"Are you scared of me, Mika?" I ask. It"s a question that needs asking, even though I"m terrified to hear the answer.

"No," she replies, her voice steady. "Being scared of you would be too easy, too normal. I"m not afraid of you, Silas."

And with that, she leans forward, pressing her lips softly against mine. It"s a tentative kiss at first, exploratory and unsure. But as our lips linger together, it grows bolder, more confident. Her tongue slips between my teeth, teasing the seam of my lips, and I let out a low groan, forgetting about holding onto the blanket and instead pulling her closer. The world fades away, replaced by the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body pressed against mine. My wolf growls his approval, and for once, I don"t fight him. I simply snake my fingers into her hair and give in, exploring her mouth with my tongue as the blanket slides down my legs and lands at my feet on the porch.

Mika"s hands find their way to my shoulders, her touch sending electric jolts through my veins. I grasp her waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. She squeaks in surprise, but quickly loops her arms around my neck, holding on tight as I stride toward the door.

We crash inside, knocking over a chair in the process, but neither of us cares. The front door swings shut on its own, sealing us away from the outside world. I set her down in the middle of the room gently and plant soft kisses along her neck, my fangs extending just enough to graze her skin. The urge to mark her is overwhelming.

"Silas," Mika breathes, her voice a mixture of longing and apprehension. Her hands are still clutching at my neck, her fingers digging into my skin as if she"s trying to anchor herself to reality. I pull back slightly, looking into her eyes. God, they"re so full of fire it almost hurts to look straight at them.

"You're sure about this?" I rasp, my cock so hard it's dripping precum on the floor.

Her pupils dilate, and she bites her lower lip before nodding. "More sure than I"ve been about anything in a long time."

I don"t need any more encouragement.

With a growl, I grip the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head, my fingers brushing against her soft skin. She shivers under my touch but doesn"t pull away. I let my hands roam over her body, taking in every curve and dip, loving the roundness of her breasts and belly. Her bra is next, unclasped effortlessly with a flick of my fingers. Her breasts spill out, and for a moment, I'm mesmerized by the sight of them—full and perfect, like they were made just for me. Mika's breath hitches as I lower my head to press kisses along her collarbone, those damn canines of mine refusing to stay hidden. They scrape gently against her skin, a reminder of the beast within me, but she doesn"t flinch. Instead, her hands move to my hair, tangling in it and pulling me closer.

"Silas. I need you to touch me."

I can"t deny her. Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, I yank them down her legs with a quick, practiced motion. The denim hits the floor, and she steps out of them without a second thought. My eyes trail down her body, soaking in every inch of exposed skin and the small triangle of fabric still covering the juncture of her thighs. Her scent, already intoxicating, intensifies, mingling with the perfume of her arousal, making my wolf howl in need.

"Mika," I murmur against her skin, trailing kisses down her stomach, each one eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. "You're so beautiful."

Her hands tighten in my hair, and I glance up to see her watching me with a mix of hunger and vulnerability. It's an expression that nearly undoes me. I drag my tongue along the line of her hip, savoring the taste of her skin as I slowly sink to my knees before her. Each kiss, each lick, has my wolf pushing against me, driving me to bend her over and fuck her right here on the living room floor. But I resist, wanting to savor this moment, wanting to show her just how much she means to me.

My fingers deftly slide under the edges of her panties. Her fingers grip my shoulders for balance when, with a slow, deliberate motion, I pull them down her legs and hold them up to my nose, inhaling deeply, the scent of her arousal a maddening aphrodisiac. I'm certain my eyes flash with my wolf as I barely restrain my urge to tear them apart with my teeth. Mika"s breath hitches, her eyes wide and dark as she watches me from above, each rise and fall of her chest making her breasts sway temptingly.

"I could eat you where you stand," I moan, barely recognizing my own voice, so rough and thick with desire.

Mika shivers again, her breath coming in shallow pants. Her eyes never leave mine as I lean forward and press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, right where the skin is softest. I imagine marking her there, solidifying our bond in a way that"s more primal, more eternal. But no, this is about her pleasure, her trust in me. Marking can come later.

I trail my lips higher, feeling the heat radiate off her core. My breath ghosts over her most sensitive spot, and I see her whole body shudder in response. "Silas..." she whispers.

Her knees wobble, and I grip her hips tighter to keep her steady. I part her thighs just enough to give myself uninhibited access to her. My breath is shallow, my heart pounding in sync with hers. Her scent is driving me wild. With a slow, deliberate motion, I extend my tongue and drag it up her slit, savoring the taste of her, the sweetness mixed with raw desire that makes my head spin. A soft moan escapes her, and her knees nearly give way as I continue my explorations. Each lap of my tongue seems to drive her higher, pushing her closer to the edge. I can barely restrain the beast within me, the urge to claim her in every sense of the word.

But this isn"t just about my beast or claiming her as ours. It"s about Mika, our mate—the woman who"s managed to burrow into my heart, despite all the walls I"d built around it. I slow down, teasing her with gentle licks and soft kisses, watching her unravel above me as my long tongue delves deeper, seeking out every hidden corner of her desire. Mika"s fingers move back to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, as if urging me to consume her completely.

"Silas," she pants again, this time more urgent. "Oh god, Silas. Please!"

The sound of her pleading voice sends a jolt of satisfaction through me, and I can"t help but smirk against her. I increase the pressure, swirling my tongue in a way that makes her hips jerk forward.

Her gasps turn to whimpers, each sound driving a spike of possessive pride through me. The world narrows to the taste of her, the feel of her quivering against my mouth. I slide a finger inside her, testing, teasing, and she clenches around it with a desperate cry.

"Mika," I murmur her name, feeling the raw emotion in my voice. Her nails dig into my scalp, and I revel in the sting, a reminder of how much she needs this—how much she needs me. She"s teetering on the edge, and I'm holding her there, savoring the control I have over her.

But control's a funny thing. It's like sand. The tighter you grip, the more it slips through your fingers. And Mika, she's not one to be controlled for long.

"Silas," she gasps, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and command. Her eyes lock onto mine, dark and wild, pulling me deeper into her storm. "I need more. Please."

I"m on the verge of losing it myself. Every fiber of my being screams to take her, to mark her, to make sure no one else even thinks of touching her. But still, I hold back, pushing my primal urges aside to focus solely on her, on her pleasure. I slide a second finger inside her, stretching her slightly as I twist and curl, searching for that sweet spot that will make her shatter against me. Her breath hitches, and I know I've found it.

"Right there, Silas. Oh god, right there," she moans, voice thick with need. I flick my tongue against her clit faster, applying just the right amount of pressure as I feel her inner walls tighten around my fingers, signaling her impending climax. Her moans rise in pitch, turning into a symphony that fuels my own desire and determination.

I curl my fingers one last time, and that's when she breaks, her entire body taut like a bowstring before releasing in a flood of ecstasy.

"Siiiiillllllaaaaaassss!" Her cries echo in the room, her hands gripping my hair like an anchor in the storm of pleasure. I feel every tremor, every shudder, and it sends a wild gratification coursing through me.

My wolf instincts kick in, and before her legs can give out completely, I scoop her up and stride toward the bed with faster-than-human movement. She lands on the mattress, and before she can even take a breath, I'm right back between her legs with an insatiable hunger that seems to deepen with every second, my hands spreading her thighs wide as I plunge my tongue back into her heat. She's slick and ready, her taste intoxicating enough to drive any mortal man insane.

But I'm no mortal man. I'm Silas O'Hagan, wolf shifter, and she's my mate.