Page 33 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)

THIRTY-THREE

AVA

T he sitting room by the fireplace was quieter than Ava had ever heard it.

The only sound was the soft, contented murmur of Sonya humming to her newborn with Landon in the room beside her, both nestled under a blanket near the low-burning hearth.

Ava stood at the window, one hand braced on the sill, eyes fixed on the tree line where night was thickening.

Only Landon knew that they had returned and had kept it quiet for now. She hadn’t told Silas she was back.

Not yet.

She needed the silence. Needed to let the echo of the last twenty-four hours fade before facing the man who’d cracked something open in her. The man she’d walked away from not because she didn’t want him but because wanting him terrified her more than anything Roman could ever do.

But the door creaked open anyway. Boots on the wood. A pause.

She didn’t turn.

“You’re here,” he said, voice low, frayed like the end of a fuse.

“You sound surprised.”

“I didn’t know if you’d come back.”

Ava turned slowly, eyes sweeping over him. Silas looked wrecked with dark circles under his eyes, knuckles bruised, hair damp with sweat. He hadn’t just been waiting around.

“I had to help Sonya,” she said. “She went into labor. I didn’t exactly have time to text.”

He gave a dry, humorless huff. “I figured that out when I walked into the court and heard a baby crying.”

“She had a boy.”

His face softened. Just for a second. “Is she okay?”

“She’s tough,” Ava said. “You already knew that.”

“Yeah,” he said. Then quieter, “So are you.”

The words hung there, between them, catching on the air.

Ava stepped closer, arms folded tight. “You okay?”

“No.” He didn’t sugarcoat it. “Roman’s alive. He burned the old place to the ground. We found the trail, he’s not hiding anymore.”

She swallowed. “Does Landon know?”

“Yeah. And I think he’s known for a while.”

The flicker of fury in his eyes didn’t scare her. It made her want to reach out. But she didn’t. It also made her hold back that she knew as well. There was no sense in bringing that up anymore. The truth was out.

“So now what?” she asked.

“We figure out his next move,” Silas said. “We protect the court. We keep Sonya and her baby safe. And we fight.”

Ava nodded slowly. “Right. War prep.”

Silas took a step forward. “That’s not all I came here to say.”

She stiffened, expecting the worst.

“I shouldn’t have let you walk out,” he said. “You needed space. I get that. But I should’ve followed. I should’ve fought for you.”

“You think that would’ve helped?”

“I think maybe it would’ve shown you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Her throat burned. “You kept things from me, Silas.”

“I did.” He didn’t argue. “Because I didn’t think I deserved to tell you the truth and still have you.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“I know that now.”

She looked at him. The way his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for a punch. The way his voice had that rough edge like it scraped up everything raw just to speak to her.

“But I kept things from you too. I knew Roman was alive. I overheard the guards.”

She braced, waiting for his fury to fall on her now, call her a hypocrite but it never came.

Ava looked up and saw him simply looking at her.

“I’m glad you didn’t tell me. I would have just tried to go after him,” was all he said.

She let out a breath. “That’s what I had assumed. I couldn’t lose you to him. Not that way. And I needed my own answers. But after you kept things from me, I thought he might be the only way to figure out the truth about my father.”

Silas looked more hurt than offended. “Ava… I’m sorry I even let you think that Roman was an option,” was all he said.

“You hurt me,” she said, voice quiet.

“I know.”

“But I missed you more than I wanted to.”

That broke something in his expression.

He moved fast. Not careless. Just urgent. Like he didn’t want to waste another second.

Their mouths met like a question and an answer colliding.

There wasn’t fire, not this time—not like their last kiss. This was heat wrapped in longing. The slow build of things unspoken finally bleeding into something real. His hands cradled her face like she was breakable but not broken, like touching her was the only thing tethering him to the moment.

Her fingers curled in his shirt, pulled him closer, closer still. She could feel him tremble—just barely—and realized he was holding back. Again.

She pulled back, breath ragged. “What is it?”

He was quiet for a moment before answering. Then, softly, “You’re everything I never thought I’d be allowed to want.”

“Silas—”

“I don’t say it to scare you. I say it so you know why I’ve been such a goddamn idiot.”

Her thumb traced his jaw, rough from stubble. “I’m scared too.”

“Of me?”

“Of losing you. Of not knowing who I am in all of this.”

“You’re Ava Monroe,” he said firmly. “Human or not, you’re part of this. And you’re not a burden. You’re my choice. Every damn time.”

She kissed him again. Deeper. Slower. Letting it build between them like a storm gathering heat. His hands slid around her waist, hers tangled in his hair, and the world around them blurred.

Outside, rain began to fall—light at first, then heavier, drumming against the roof like a heartbeat.

Inside, two people who’d been torn apart by war and guilt found a place to anchor again.

They moved together toward her room, the door shut behind them with a quiet click, muffled by the sound of rain on the roof. Ava didn’t bother turning on the lamp. She didn’t need light to see him. To feel him. Every part of her already knew where he was, how he moved, how he breathed.

Silas pressed her gently against the door with his body, forehead to hers, both of them catching their breath like they’d just survived something instead of stepped into it.

“You sure?” he murmured, voice rough and low.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered.

He kissed her again—slower this time, deeper.

His lips tasted like rain and regret, but his hands…

his hands held her like she was the answer to every ache he never let show.

One slid around her waist, the other threading through her messy braid, tugging it loose until dark strands spilled over her shoulders.

She felt the tremble in his touch. Not weakness. Reverence.

Ava reached for the hem of his shirt, yanking it up and over his head. The heat of his body poured over her, lean muscle under tan skin marked by old wounds and one brutal scar that trailed down his back like a reminder of every burden he carried alone.

“You’ve been carrying all this,” she said softly, tracing the scar with her fingers.

His eyes—those storm-grey depths with a flicker of gold—met hers. “Not anymore.”

She stepped back just enough to shed her jacket, then her shirt, watching as his gaze swept over her like a slow drag of heat.

Her bra followed. He caught her gently by the hips and walked her backward toward the mattress, their mouths never separating for long, his lips dragging along her jaw, down her neck, over the curve of her shoulder.

“Every time I think I’ve had enough of you,” he said against her skin, “you do something that ruins me all over again.”

Ava laughed—quiet and wrecked—before pulling him into another kiss, backing onto the bed and tugging him with her. He landed above her, one knee pressing between her thighs, and she could already feel the hard length of him against her hip.

Her hands slid down his torso, the ridges of his abs flexing beneath her palms. She dragged her fingers along the waistband of his pants, her smile curling when she felt his breath hitch.

“Let me touch you,” she whispered.

Silas sat back on his knees long enough to strip down. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, and Ava’s mouth went dry at the sight of him.

“You're staring,” he muttered, breath shallow.

“You’re beautiful,” she said simply. “And I love making you want me.”

She slid down the bed and ran her hand slowly along his shaft, loving the way his jaw clenched, how his muscles jumped under his skin. Then she leaned in and licked the head of his cock, slow and teasing.

“Fuck, Ava…” His voice broke on her name.

She took him into her mouth, inch by inch, savoring the way he cursed under his breath, the way his fingers tightened in the sheets beside her. He tasted like salt and warmth and want, and when she hollowed her cheeks and took him deeper, he groaned low and rough.

“You’re gonna fucking break me,” he panted, brushing her hair back with trembling fingers.

She hummed around him, letting the vibration ripple through him, then pulled back with a wet pop, licking him slow like she wasn’t done yet.

Silas grabbed her by the waist and flipped her gently onto her back, his breath coming fast, cock slick and heavy against her inner thigh.

“Need to be inside you,” he rasped. “Right fucking now.”

“Then don’t wait.”

He reached down and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants, tugging them off along with her underwear in one fluid motion. She was bare beneath him, spread open, her pussy glistening and aching with how badly she wanted him.

He stared for a beat, awe in every line of his face. “You’re so wet.”

“For you,” she said. “Always for you.”

He slid two fingers through her folds, gathering slick, rubbing slow circles over her clit that made her hips buck.

“Silas,” she gasped. “Please—just fuck me.”

He lined himself up, nudging the head of his cock against her entrance, then pushed in slow, inch by inch, until he was buried deep inside her. They both stilled, breathless.

“Jesus, Ava,” he groaned. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good. ”

“You’re huge,” she choked out, nails digging into his back. “I can feel you everywhere.”

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Don’t you dare stop.”

He pulled back and thrust again, slow and deep. Her pussy clenched around him, already building toward the edge. The sound of skin on skin mixed with the rhythm of rain on the roof, their breath filling the dark room with heat and sound.

Ava wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, faster. He answered with a grunt, fucking her harder, his cock dragging along every nerve inside her until she was arching, moaning, gasping his name.

“I’m close,” she whispered. “Silas—I’m?—”

“Come for me,” he growled, hand slipping between them to rub her clit in tight, practiced circles. “Let me feel you.”

Her orgasm hit like lightning—sharp and blinding. She cried out, body shuddering around him as he kept thrusting, chasing his own release. She barely came down from the high before he started again, flipping her onto her side and pulling her leg over his hip, sliding back in with a groan.

“Not done,” he said into her ear. “Need to feel you come again.”

“Fuck,” she whimpered, overwhelmed and wrecked, but so damn full of him.

He kept thrusting, deep and rhythmic, hand fisted in her hair as his breath came fast and ragged against her skin.

“Mine,” he muttered. “You’re mine.”

“Yours,” she gasped, nails raking down his back. “I’m yours.”

She came again, more intense than the first—her entire body seizing with pleasure as she sobbed out his name.

Silas followed with a roar muffled into her neck, hips jerking as he came inside her, cock pulsing with every last thrust. He held her tight, their bodies locked together, the world around them melting to nothing but this—sweat and breath and the wild thrum of hearts finally beating in rhythm.

They lay there tangled, her fingers stroking along the scar on his back, his hand resting over her heart like he finally knew it was his to hold.

“You good?” he murmured after a long beat.

Ava smiled against his shoulder. “You have to ask?”

He kissed her temple, his voice rough with something deeper than just desire. “I love you, Ava.”

Her breath caught—but she didn’t flinch.

“I know,” she whispered. “Me too.”

Outside, the storm kept raging. Inside, they had already weathered something bigger.

And come out of it together.