Page 32 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)

THIRTY-TWO

SILAS

T he trees passed in a blur, pines whispering in the wind like they knew secrets he didn’t. Silas stalked beside Caz down the narrow trail that led northeast from the court, his steps quiet despite the tension humming through every line of his body.

“You’re walking like you’ve got a ghost on your heels,” Caz muttered beside him, pushing a low branch aside with a grunt.

Silas didn’t respond at first. He’d been trying not to think about Ava for the last two hours, which meant he’d been thinking about her nonstop.

The way her mouth had gone tight when she left.

The way she hadn’t looked back. And the way his chest had burned like something vital was tearing in two when she disappeared.

“She’s with Sonya,” Silas finally said. “As long as Sonya found her, she’ll be fine.”

Caz gave him a sidelong glance. “You saying that for my benefit or yours?”

Silas exhaled slowly, jaw working. “I don’t know anymore.”

Caz didn’t push it. He just adjusted the strap of his rifle and kept walking. The man had his own history with ghosts, and he knew when not to poke at someone else’s.

They moved in silence until they crested a low ridge that looked down on a clearing choked with smoke.

Caz cursed first. “What the hell…”

Below, the ruins of a town sprawled like a kicked anthill. One building was still smoldering, flames curling up from blackened beams and shivering through broken windows. Others had been gutted, roofs collapsed, the air thick with the sharp stench of ash and old blood.

And at the heart of it, Landon’s old cabin when he had first moved back. Or what was left of it.

The frame had collapsed inward, the porch barely clinging to its foundation. Smoke twisted upward in lazy coils, as if whatever had torched it wanted to leave a message, not just destruction.

Silas descended first, boots crunching on charred ground. He crouched near the edge of the wreckage, eyes scanning for signs of recent movement. No bodies, no survivors. Just devastation.

Caz kicked a piece of scorched timber aside. “This was deliberate. Not random. Nothing stolen. Just burned. A message to the Alpha.”

Silas didn’t reply. Something was wrong. More than just the smell of ruin and smoke. There was another scent here buried beneath the ash and heat, familiar in a way that turned his gut inside out.

He stood abruptly, spine straightening, and took a slow inhale.

No.

No.

It was faint, layered under smoke and wind and char, but unmistakable.

Roman.

The scent was older now. Weathered. But it clung to the edges of the cabin like a stain that wouldn’t wash out.

Silas turned and walked away from the building, fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.

Caz called after him. “Silas?—?”

“Roman was here.”

Silas didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The air around him had gone electric, raw enough that Caz didn’t move.

“You sure?”

Silas nodded. “Positive.”

Caz blew out a breath. “Then we’ve got a bigger problem than a rogue arsonist.”

“No shit.”

They stood in silence, smoke curling between them, both staring at the wreckage like it could offer answers. But Silas didn’t need confirmation. Roman’s scent was burned into his memory. The sharp, controlled violence of it. And here, it reeked of something else too. Desperation. Fury. Purpose.

Roman hadn’t just escaped.

He’d made a point.

Silas pivoted sharply and started back toward the path.

“Where you going?” Caz called.

“To confront Landon.”

Caz didn’t follow this time. “Want backup?”

“No.” His voice was iron. “This one’s mine.”

The court wasn’t quiet. Word had already started to spread. Smoke on the horizon didn’t go unnoticed, and Silas’s return with soot on his hands and fury in his steps drew more stares than he had patience for.

He stormed through the main hall and straight into Landon’s private chamber without knocking.

Landon was there, leaning over a spread of old maps, but he straightened immediately. “Silas?—”

“You knew,” Silas snapped.

Landon didn’t flinch. “Slow down.”

Silas advanced, hands flat on the war table. “Don’t play dumb. Roman. You didn’t kill him. You didn’t even bury him deep enough. He escaped, Landon. He’s back. He burned the cabin.”

Landon’s expression darkened, but he didn’t deny it.

“You told me he was locked away.”

“I told you he was contained.”

“That’s not the same damn thing.”

“I did what I had to,” Landon said, voice low and controlled. “He was more valuable alive than dead at the time. Even Sonya agreed and she would have wanted him dead more than most. There were factions—information—things only he had.”

Silas let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “So you let the snake live, and now he’s crawling back into the sun. And you didn’t think I needed to know?”

“I didn’t think he’d get out.”

“Didn’t think?” Silas slammed his hand down. “You’ve seen what he’s capable of. You fought him. And now you gave him time, space—hell, maybe even motivation.”

Landon met his gaze squarely. “You think I don’t carry that weight? Every second? My wife is out there too, ready to give birth and she just up and left determined to find Ava. All because you set her off!”

“You gambled with lives, Landon! And now Ava—” He stopped himself, jaw locking.

Landon’s eyes narrowed. “Now Ava what?”

Silas looked away. “She needs to know. Eventually. But not like this.”

Landon folded his arms. “So you gonna tell her? Or let her find out like you just did?”

Silas didn’t know yet. Didn’t know what would do more damage; protecting her from it or putting the truth in her hands.

Landon sighed. “She’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

Silas nodded slowly. “I know. That’s the problem. She’ll go looking for him.”

“You sure she hasn’t already?”

That question followed him as he walked back out into the hall.

Roman was loose. Ava was gone.

And the scent he’d followed today wouldn’t be the last.

Something was coming. And it wasn’t going to wait for them to be ready.