Page 6 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)

SIX

SILAS

S ilas broke camp before the sun cracked horizon.

The cave stank of smoke and dried adrenaline, the earth still warm from where they'd slept, too close for comfort but not close enough to admit it. He rolled the bedroll with tight, practiced hands, jaw clenched. Every movement deliberate. Quiet. Clean.

Ava stirred behind him, her jacket draped over her shoulders, braid fraying at the ends. “You always wake up pissed off or is this just a today thing?”

He didn’t turn. “Saves time.”

“You should try sleeping sometime. Heard it helps.” She grunted as she stood, rubbing her neck. “Damn rock gave me whiplash.”

“You’re alive,” he said simply, sliding the pack over one shoulder. “Rock did its job.”

Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t argue. That was the rhythm they’d settled into—jabs, silences, the occasional honest moment snuck in between.

They climbed out of the cave and into pale morning light. The forest looked cleaner than it had any right to. Birds chirped like the night before hadn’t seen blood or flight. Silas hated that. Nature’s amnesia.

“We head west,” he muttered. “Then loop south. Leave false prints northeast.”

Ava squinted. “You planning to give yourself shin splints?”

“I’m planning not to die.”

“Coulda said that.”

He allowed himself half a smirk. She was quick. Sharp edges and stubborn pride, but her instincts were good. He just wished she wasn’t dragging herself into this mess.

She fell into step beside him, gun holstered at her hip. “You gonna tell me what the hell those bastards wanted? Or are we still pretending this is just a casual hike with some murder sprinkled in?”

Silas didn’t answer at first. The trees closed around them, thick pines giving cover from the sky. It wasn’t until they reached a rocky creek bed that he stopped, knelt, and traced his fingers into the mud mimicking their prints heading the wrong way. Setting a trap.

He straightened, wiping his hands on his pants. “They weren’t after me.”

Ava blinked. “Then why the hell?—”

“They were after the heir.”

She stilled. “Heir? You mean Landon’s?—”

“Unborn child. His Luna’s due in weeks.” His voice dropped, bitter. “The Silent Sons believe killing the heir will break the prophecy. Cripple the unity.”

Ava stared. Her face unreadable, but her jaw flexed. “Holy shit.”

Silas nodded once. “They’re zealots. Roman’s leftovers. Scattered after the war, but not broken. They’ve been gathering.”

“And you… what? Decided to play lone wolf hero?”

He looked away. “I was part of the guard under Roman’s old allies. I followed orders I shouldn’t’ve. Got blood on my hands I can’t wash clean. I aided the King in the final battle and Landon gave me a way out after the war. I didn’t take it.”

Ava’s brows lifted, tone sharp. “So you really do think this is penance?”

He met her gaze. “I think if I don’t stop them, no one else will.”

They stood in silence, the woods holding its breath around them.

Ava’s voice came quieter this time. “And me? I’m just… bait?”

“No.” His answer was quick, firm. “You’re smarter than that. You knew the risk, and you stayed.”

“I didn’t sign up to protect shifter royalty,” she snapped. “I signed up to help survivors. Deliver medicine. Find the truth.”

“You still can,” he said. “But if they find out you’re with me, they’ll use you. As leverage. As a message.”

Her expression darkened. “Let them try.”

Silas couldn’t help it but he admired her then. Not for her defiance, but for the fire behind it. The refusal to back down even when fear curled at the edges. She reminded him of wolves he used to serve with, back when loyalty meant something. Before it was warped into power plays and lies.

“So, if you already knew their plan, why look for them or the hostages?”

“To stop them,” he replied simply. “That was before they knew I was tracking them though.”

They kept walking. Hours bled by, shadows growing long and thin. He let her lead part of the way, noting her foot placement, the way she paused at every fork, sniffing for traces he’d missed. She wasn’t just brave. She was adaptable.

“Where’d you learn to track?” he asked once, breaking the quiet.

She shrugged. “Wilderness training. My dad used to take me out to teach survival skills. Before he… disappeared.”

Silas glanced at her. “You think he’s dead?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “They said it was rogues. But no body, no closure. He vanished during a border patrol when I was ten. Like I said, my sister is waiting on his ghost and I’m accepting the things I know about this world.”

“Your scar,” he said.

“Gift from the same day.” She didn’t elaborate.

He didn’t push.

By midday, they stopped at an old ranger station, long-abandoned, half-swallowed by vines. Ava pushed open the door while Silas circled once, scanning the treeline for movement.

“All clear,” he muttered, stepping inside.

The room smelled like rot and dust, but it was shelter. A bench lined one wall, cracked and splintered. A map hung crooked near the fireplace, corners curled.

Ava knelt beside a locked crate, prying it open with a crowbar. Inside were rusted tins, old flares, and half-melted candles.

“Looks like Christmas,” she said.

Silas leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Eat fast. We move again in thirty.”

She tossed him a can of beans. “Has anyone told you how cheery your demeanor is?”

“I like to keep expectations low.”

She scoffed. “You’re succeeding.”

As they ate in silence, Silas let his guard ease slightly. The air inside was warmer. Less threat. But it couldn’t last.

He studied her face while she wasn’t looking with her stormy green eyes that didn’t miss a thing, the jagged scar beneath one eye like a question never answered. Her hair had come loose, curling near her temple, and something about the wildness of it struck him.

Something about her made him crave peace more than he had ever since the war. With her.

“You think we’ll reach Landon in time to warn him or are you planning on still saving the hostages?” she asked suddenly.

Silas exhaled slow. “If we don’t reach Landon, there won’t be a kingdom to reach. I know what I need to, I wanted to trail them though to find out more but since they know I lived after the ambush… well, our only card is to go straight to King Landon and warn him.”

Her gaze softened. “Then we better make up lost time.”

He nodded once. No bravado. No speeches. Just fact.

They packed up again, shoulders squared. The road ahead was uncertain, but so was everything worth fighting for.