I stood in the hush that followed, breath catching.
Monte was right.
Silas didn’t just take my breath.
He took my peace.
And I wasn’t sure I knew how to take it back.
Because maybe he didn’t know how to love without chaos.
Maybe he’d never been taught that love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning—like a war fought in whispers and wildfire.
He touched me like he’d never been allowed to want anything. Kissed me like he expected the world to end mid-sentence.
And God help me, I wanted him, anyway.
But what if that wasn’t enough?
What if all he could offer was heat and ruin, and the moment I needed more—stability, softness, safety—he’d vanish again, leaving only the ash of us behind?
Because the truth was, I’d never wanted marriage.
Not really.
Not the white dress or the vows or the glassy-eyed promises about forever. I’d built my life on control, on independence, on not needing anyone to save me.
But lately, I’d started to wonder—was this the alternative?
Loving a man who made me feel like a live wire, like I was one wrong touch away from destruction?
I didn’t need a ring.
But I did want safety.
Not the dull kind. Not a caged, predictable life.
But the kind that let me breathe. That let me exhale without scanning the horizon for the next storm.
And Silas …
Silas was the storm.
What if love, for Silas Dane, would always come with blood on the edges?
I should’ve walked away.
Should’ve canceled the contract and run back to Atlanta.
But I didn’t.
Because when Silas looked at me, I didn’t feel safe.
I felt alive.
20
SILAS
