Page 29

Lia

Silas led me inside his cabin, holding my hand gently, his golden eyes scanning me the way they always did—like he was checking for new injuries, for anything I wasn’t telling him. I was exhausted, my limbs heavy, my body aching in ways that wouldn’t fade easily, but my mind was spinning.

Two weeks.

That was all the time we had before the wolves in the city forced their poison into every human woman they had taken.

Before Mariah was forced to take it…

I gulped down my rising fear, rubbing my arms as I tried to breathe, but it was no use. My chest squeezed, my thoughts spiraling, panic creeping in like a slow-rising tide. I felt tears stinging my eyes.

Silas must have felt it, because the next thing I knew, his warm, callused fingers were gripping my chin, tilting my head up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Stop worrying, Wildcat. That’s a problem for tomorrow,” he said, his voice low, steady. “Not tonight.”

I blinked, my pulse still hammering. “But I?—”

“No.” He raised his brows to make his point clear. “You’re not doing this right now, Lia. Not tonight. I won’t let you.”

I clenched my jaw. “You can’t just make me stop thinking about it.”

Silas smirked, and before I had time to react, he reached for his belt, tugging it free from the loops of his pants in one slow, deliberate motion.

My stomach dropped.

“I can absolutely make you stop,” he threatened, doubling the belt over and letting it hang by his side. “Now, you can either listen to me and let me take care of you, or I can turn you over my knee and remind you how to listen.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “That’s ridiculous?—”

Before I could finish, he turned me effortlessly, his hand pressing against my lower back as he delivered three sharp, stinging swats to my ass. The belt burned like liquid fire, even through the fabric of my pants.

I yelped, arching up on my toes at the sudden heat blooming across my ass.

Silas growled softly, his lips glancing against my ear. “Was that ridiculous, Wildcat?”

My cheeks burned, but I shook my head quickly.

“Good.” He straightened, smoothing his hand over my bottom. “Now be a good girl and stop worrying about what tomorrow might bring, and the day after that and the one after that. We’ll deal with each as it comes.”

I swallowed my pride and nodded, my face still hot.

Silas’s face softened, and before I knew it, he was leading me toward the bathroom, guiding me inside before kneeling beside the tub and turning on the taps. Steam misted the air as hot water filled the basin, the faint scent of herbs rising from where he had dropped a dried blend of pine and lavender into the water.

I sighed despite myself, my body already anticipating the warm bath.

Silas reached for the hem of my shirt, his eyes holding mine. “Let me,” he murmured.

I didn’t fight him this time. I let him undress me, his hands methodical and reverent as he peeled away the layers of filthy fabric. He said nothing about the fresh bruises, the scrapes, the exhaustion written into every line of my body. He only helped me step into the water, his hands guiding me down gently, making sure I was comfortable before reaching for a bar of soap.

He worked silently, lathering his hands before running them over my arms, my back, everywhere. His touch was careful, his fingers tracing over my skin like he was committing my shape to memory all over again.

I closed my eyes, surrendering.

When he was finished, he wrapped me in a thick towel, carrying me effortlessly to bed before tucking me under the blankets. After he took his own quick bath, he laid down next to me, damp and warm and smelling good. His body curved around mine, solid and strong, his arms caging me in, making sure I knew I wasn’t alone.

I sighed into his chest, pressing myself against his skin.

“Silas?” I whispered.

“Hmm?” His voice was gruff with exhaustion.

I hesitated. “I don’t know how not to worry about tomorrow.”

He exhaled, kissing my forehead. “Sweet Lia.” His arms drew me closer. “Tomorrow will get here soon enough. Tonight, we’re home, we’re safe, I’m yours and you’re mine. Sleep, my love.”

Safe in the arms of my mate, with his hand resting against the mark he’d given me, I slept.