Page 39 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)
THIRTY-NINE
AVA
T he court never really slept.
Even now, hours after Roman’s execution, the halls buzzed with quiet movement, guards rotating shifts, patrols checking the gates, healers seeing to the wounded. But inside the private quarters Silas had brought her to, the world held stillness.
Ava sat at the edge of the wide bed, bare feet resting on the cold stone floor. The weight of the day, the weeks before it, all coiled like rope in her chest. Roman was dead. His voice silenced. His followers dismantled. And still, something inside her ached.
Silas emerged from the adjoining room, shirt discarded, towel in hand as he ran it over damp hair.
He moved with the grace of someone constantly coiled for combat, even now.
Scars tracked his torso, reminders of a life that had never been gentle.
But those stormed-over grays found her like a tether.
“You haven’t slept,” he said.
She gave a weak smile. “Neither have you, or apparently anyone.”
He didn’t argue.
He walked over, dropping the towel on the chair before crouching in front of her. One of his hands came to rest on her knee. Solid. Warm.
“You’re still thinking about him,” he said.
She nodded slowly. “Roman wasn’t just a monster. He was the last person who might’ve known what really happened to my father. And now…” She trailed off.
He waited.
“I don’t know if I should feel relief or grief. He’s gone. But so are the answers.”
Silas studied her, thumb brushing slow circles on her knee. “I don’t think your dad would’ve trusted Roman with anything important. If he’s alive… he’ll find you. If not…” He paused. “He was the kind of man who gave up everything to protect people like me. Like you.”
Her throat tightened. “How do you know?”
“Because I was one of the ones he tried to save. He got me out of a cell when Roman was purging sympathizers. I’d been locked up for refusing an order.
Your father broke protocol, pulled strings, and risked his cover just to get me out.
I told you about it once before, but he had saved more a couple other times as well. ”
Ava stared at the floor. “He was always just… this shadow. My mom wouldn’t talk about him. Then she died. And all I had left was his name and that damn knife.”
She reached for it, lying on the bedside table. Her fingers skimmed the blade’s worn leather grip, her thumb tracing the etched initials near the hilt.
“I carry it,” she murmured, “and still feel like I barely knew him.”
Silas knelt up, his hand curling around hers, guiding the blade gently from her grip and setting it aside. “You knew enough to keep fighting.”
They sat like that for a long beat. The fire in the hearth crackled low, casting flickering gold across stone and skin. She leaned forward until her forehead pressed to his.
“I love you,” she whispered.
He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“I love you back,” he said softly.
She pulled him into the bed with her, slow and quiet.
It wasn’t frantic like the nights before. There was no rush, no burning need to outrun their pain. Only trust. Only truth. Only the weight of everything they’d survived and the tenderness of what still lay ahead.
Their clothes slipped away with whispers. A shirt over his head, her bra unhooked with a brush of fingers. He peeled her pants down slow, like unveiling something sacred. Every inch of skin bared felt like a confession she’d never had the courage to voice aloud.
Silas hovered over her, gaze raking over her with something close to reverence. The firelight painted his tan skin gold, the muscles of his chest and abdomen rippling with each breath. Scars crossed his torso and back, but none of them made him less. They made him real .
Her fingers brushing the line of a brutal scar that ran from his shoulder blade down.
His grey-gold eyes met hers. “You’re everything I never thought I’d get to keep.”
Ava’s throat tightened, but she didn’t cry. She just pulled him in, letting their bodies press flush, skin to skin, heat blooming in every place they touched.
He kissed her slow, thorough, like he was memorizing her from the inside out. His lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, her neck, the delicate dip beneath her ear.
“I want to see all of you,” he murmured, voice rough as gravel. “Let me.”
She nodded, breathless.
His hands mapped her like cartography. The scar under her eye. The curve of her collarbone. The swell of her breasts, her nipples already pebbled with anticipation. He took one into his mouth, and she arched beneath him with a soft gasp.
“Silas…”
“I’ve got you,” he said, one hand sliding down her stomach, his fingers parting her thighs.
She was already soaked.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, kissing his way down her belly. “Let me taste you.”
Ava’s breath caught. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to.”
He settled between her legs, broad shoulders nudging them apart as his hands curled under her thighs to hold her open. The sight of him there with his lips inches from her pussy, eyes dark with hunger made her tremble. Then he licked her. One slow, deliberate stroke from slit to clit.
“Oh, fuck—” she gasped, hips twitching.
He groaned against her. “God, Ava. You taste like heaven.”
His tongue circled her clit, slow at first, teasing. Then he sucked it gently into his mouth, letting the sensation build until her fingers fisted in the bedding, her back arching off the mattress.
“Silas, I—don’t stop.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he growled against her, flicking his tongue just right.
Her orgasm slammed into her fast and hard, tearing through her like a lightning strike. She cried out, thighs clenching around his head, hips rocking helplessly.
He didn’t stop.
He licked her through it, only easing off when she was trembling too hard to stay still. Then he kissed the inside of her thigh, gentle, and crawled back up her body, his cock hard and heavy against her skin.
“Still with me?” he murmured.
“Barely,” she whispered, breath hitching. “Need you. Now.”
“Yeah?” he rasped, lining himself up. “Need me inside that pretty pussy?”
“Please.”
He pushed in slow, thick and hot and relentless. Her body stretched around him, pleasure and pressure colliding.
“Fuck, Ava,” he growled. “So tight. You’re perfect.”
She gasped, nails digging into his back. “You feel—so deep. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He set a rhythm that was slow but powerful. Each thrust pushed her higher, deeper, her pussy clenching around him as he filled her over and over again. His hand slid under her thigh, lifting her leg higher to change the angle, and she sobbed when he hit that perfect spot.
“Silas—Silas, I’m gonna?—”
“I’ve got you,” he said, voice breaking. “I wanna feel you break.”
She shattered again, orgasm ripping through her like a wave, her cries muffled against his shoulder as she clung to him.
He thrust harder, chasing his own release. “You’re mine,” he whispered, eyes burning. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped. “Always.”
With a low growl, he leaned down and sank his teeth gently into her shoulder, just enough to mark her. It didn’t hurt, it just felt like a promise, like his wolf telling her how much he really loved her.
He came with a raw groan, cock pulsing inside her, hips jerking as he emptied himself into her. He held her tight through every tremor, every aftershock, until they were both breathing hard, limbs tangled beneath the warm furs.
The silence after was thick with heat and something more.
Something alive.
Ava curled against him, her cheek resting over the thump of his heart.
His hand traced lazy circles along her back.
“That mark will heal,” he whispered as he kissed where he had bit her.
“I couldn’t help myself, but it doesn't mark you in any permanent way. I wouldn’t claim you without you knowing what it meant. ”
She tried to laugh but it came off shaky. “It’s not that.” She took a breath to steady herself from the tremble of not only her orgasams but something more. “There’s something else.”
His fingers stilled. “Yeah?”
She lifted her head, stormy green eyes locked on his.
“Sonya confirmed it just this morning. I was going to wait to tell you, but… I’m pregnant.”
Silas didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. Just sat up slowly and placed his palm gently against her belly, as if it was the most sacred thing in the world.
“You’re sure?” he asked, voice almost fragile.
Ava nodded. “Positive.”
He exhaled, leaned forward, and kissed her stomach, then her lips.
“I don’t know what kind of father I’ll be,” he whispered, voice shaking. “But I know I’ll never leave. Not you. Not them.”
Her heart ached with how much she loved him.
He reached into the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a small, worn leather box. He handed it to her with a look that made her throat burn.
“It’s not a mate claim,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t do that without your say. This is just… a promise. A partnership. Something I know I want with you. I wanted to do it right once this was all over and you were sure… but now–”
Inside the box was a ring made of braided iron and silver. Simple. Strong. Real.
She slipped it on her finger, her eyes stinging with tears.
“You want to do this?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Not as a mate, but as my partner?”
Ava leaned in and kissed him slow. Certain.
“Yeah. I do.”
And in the flickering hearthlight, wrapped in the scent of rain and the weight of everything they'd been through, they held each other like they were finally home.