Page 95 of Silent Fire (Sin & Steel #6)

“What the freak are you doing?” Noel protested, though he didn't struggle too hard. Being cradled against that solid chest, surrounded by Tomas’s earthy scent, felt too good.

“Babe, I got this,” Tomas rumbled, mouth a grim line. The pain was evident in his dark eyes, but his voice held that steady, unshakable confidence that never failed to settle something in Noel’s core.

They made it inside, both of them wheezing and clinging to the nearest table to catch their breath. Noel met Tomas’s heated gaze, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be Cesar’s best friend for life if he brings me something cold to drink,” he panted, only half joking.

The interior of Sin's was eerily quiet, the usual raucous noise missing. No music pounded from the speakers, no riotous laughter or shouts. Just an expectant hush, like the tavern itself held its breath.

Tomas straightened, drawing Noel closer with an arm around his waist. His free hand trailed up Noel’s nape in a tender caress. “You okay, carino ?”

Noel leaned into the embrace with a soft hum. He felt utterly drained yet oddly at peace, despite the throbbing ache from his wound. Here, wrapped in Tomas’s protective warmth, he could finally unclench the knot of tension that had lived between his shoulders for so long.

“I'm good,” he murmured against the column of Tomas’s throat. “Just...really good.”

Tomas rumbled his approval, the vibration tickling Noel’s lips where they brushed heated skin. They simply stood there a moment longer, lost in the stillness and each other's orbit.

A throat cleared behind them. Cesar leaned against the scarred wood, studying them. “Everything okay over there?” His tone was light, but Noel didn't miss the flicker of concern in those dark eyes.

Tomas gave a lazy nod, not bothering to pull away or hide the intimate way he cradled Noel to his side. “Just need a couple of cold ones over here,” he said easily. “And maybe a snack for the little guy before he faints on me again.”

Noel huffed out a breath, shoving halfheartedly at Tomas’s chest. “I did not faint,” he grumbled without any real heat. “I was...momentarily indisposed.”

“Sure, florito. ” Tomas chuckled, undeterred. He pressed a lingering kiss to Noel’s temple, a clear display of tenderness at odds with his teasing words.

Cesar watched the exchange with a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll grab you both a Gatorade and some snacks,” he said, already moving to retrieve the items. “Gotta keep your energy up while you're healing, carino .”

As he waited for Cesar to return, Noel allowed himself to simply exist in this quiet interlude. To bask in Tomas’s steadfast presence and the knowledge that, for now at least, he was safe.

His wolf stood sentinel, a silent vow to shield Noel from any and all threats. And Noel believed him, in a way he hadn't trusted anyone since he was a child. There was a courage in that, a quiet strength he could lean into when the world became too much.

Tucking his face into the crook of Tomas’s neck, Noel breathed him in—leather, smoke, the wild tang of the forest after a summer rain.

This was home in a way no place had ever been before.

Not a roof over his head or a geographical location, but the solidity of Tomas’s embrace, the cadence of his heart against Noel’s cheek.

A fragile sense of peace enveloped them both, a brief respite from the danger lurking in the shadows. In this stolen slice of time, there was no threat from Noel’s deranged ex. No bullets ripping through flesh, no anguished cries as they bled out on the floor.

Chapter Ten

Noel’s heart hammered as they approached the bedroom door. Just being back in this hallway made his palms sweat and his stomach churn. He could still hear the gunshots echoing, taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.

Tomas must have sensed his hesitation. His mate rested a comforting hand on Noel’s shoulder. “Take a moment, carino . I got you.”

Noel swallowed hard, leaning back against the wall as he fought to draw even breaths. He couldn’t go in there, couldn’t face those memories head-on. Tomas squeezed his hand, a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“Right here with you,” he murmured, voice a low rumble meant only for Noel’s ears.

Giving a shaky nod, Noel pushed off the wall and followed Tomas into the room. Then he froze, eyes going wide.

It was completely different. The space was completely transformed.

Plush new carpet covered the floor, and sleek modern furniture filled the room.

Even the walls had been repainted a soft, soothing gray.

There was no trace of the horror that had occurred here mere days ago, the ghosts of their trauma had seemingly been exorcised.

“What...” Noel’s voice emerged as a strangled rasp. He turned to Tomas, brow furrowed in confusion.

Tomas stepped behind him, arms winding around Noel’s waist as he nuzzled into the curve of his neck. “We don’t live in trauma, mi alma ,” he rasped out against Noel’s skin. “We recalibrate and move forward.”

The words unlocked something in Noel’s chest, allowing the tightly wound knot of fear to slowly unravel. He sagged back against Tomas’s solid frame, letting his mate’s steady presence ground him.

Without a word, Tomas scooped him up and carried him to the bed. He settled them both amid the crisp sheets, cradling Noel against his chest like he was something infinitely precious. Noel burrowed closer, breathing in the comforting scent of leather and smoke.

They simply held each other for a long while. Noel traced idle patterns over the inked swirls on Tomas’s chest, finding solace in the rise and fall of each breath, in the beat of his mate’s heart against his cheek.

“Got you, carino ,” Tomas rumbled, the words a hushed promise into the stillness.

Noel tilted his head, meeting that scorching gaze he’d come to crave like air. There was such fierce tenderness in those whiskey-brown depths, such unshakable devotion. He was utterly transfixed, lost to everything but the solidity of Tomas surrounding him.

With a low growl, Tomas carefully rolled them until he blanketed Noel’s smaller frame. He sealed their mouths together in a searing kiss that quickly turned filthy, all clashing teeth and velvet tongue and naked hunger.

Noel eased up to meet him, ignoring the pain in his side as he fisted one hand in those dark silken strands to hold Tomas close.

His free hand mapped the hard planes of Tomas’s back, nails scoring delicious lines of heat.

This wasn’t soft or romantic. It was pure, primal need—an affirmation that they were both alive and undeniably bound together.

Tomas broke the kiss with a ragged groan, trailing a blazing path down the column of Noel’s throat. “Need you,” he groaned against Noel’s thundering pulse. “All of you, carino . Let me reclaim what’s mine.”

A tremor rocked through Noel at the raw demand in Tomas’s tone. He tilted his head in a silent offering, surrendering to the driving need to be consumed, to let his mate imprint himself on Noel’s very essence.

Tomas wasted no time divesting Noel of his clothes. Then he was on Noel again, branding him with searing kisses and the exquisite glide of bare skin. Noel clung to him, spiraling higher with each rasp of calloused palms and graze of stubbled jaw.

When Tomas finally sheathed himself in one smooth thrust, they both went still for a suspended moment.

Noel panted against the sweat-slicked curve of his mate’s shoulder, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness, of completion, as though the final piece of his shattered self finally clicked back into place.

Then Tomas set a slow rhythm, each powerful snap of his hips driving Noel deeper in love with his wolf. Noel matched Tomas’s slow intensity, fingertips leaving crescent marks in the bunched muscles of that powerful back.

It was beautiful and messy and utterly grounding. Noel surrendered to the wildfire of sensations with each slick thrust, each rasping growl against his lips. There was no room for doubt or fear, only the blazing truth that this was where he belonged—twined with his mate in the most elemental way.

Tomas pinned him with that searing gaze, teeth worrying at Noel’s bottom lip until he gasped. “You’re mine,” he snarled, voice wrecked. “Say it, carino . Let me hear you.”

“Yours,” Noel said without hesitation. He hooked one leg over Tomas’s hip, opening himself wider to the claiming thrusts. “Always yours, mi lobo . Always.”

With a feral snarl, Tomas sank his canines into Noel’s tender flesh. He growled in response to the whimpers that spilled free, swallowing each broken keen as their rhythm grew frantic, animalistic.

Noel hurtled toward the edge, the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter until, finally, it snapped. He came apart beneath Tomas with a sobbing cry, back slightly bowing as his climax ripped through him in searing waves.

Tomas extracted his canines, following him over immediately, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural snarl. He stilled, panting harshly against Noel’s damp skin as they clung together in the aftermath.

In the quiet that followed, Noel simply held his mate close, tracing soothing patterns over the sweat-slicked planes of Tomas’s back. The room faded away until there was nothing but Tomas’s ragged breaths, the thunder of his heart where they were pressed chest to chest.

“I love you,” Noel murmured, the words slipping free on a contented sigh before he could second-guess them.

He’d spent his whole life running from those three simple words, from the vulnerability of laying himself bare.

But here, in Tomas’s arms, there was no fear—only a bone-deep sense of rightness that settled into his very marrow.

Tomas stilled then pulled back just enough to pin Noel with that searing gaze. His expression held a raw vulnerability that stole Noel’s breath, hope and adoration and wonder all swirling in those whiskey depths.