"Story first?" Isaac asks hopefully, looking between me and Amelia. "Please?"
"Story first," I agree. "But then straight to bed, no arguing. Deal?"
"Deal!" They both chorus, and then they're racing for the stairs, their earlier exhaustion apparently forgotten in the excitement of getting a story.
Amelia laughs, the sound bright and warm as we follow the kids at a more sedate pace. "They played you. You know that, right? They were getting sleepy until you mentioned a story and now they're completely wired again."
"I'm aware," I admit with a smile. "But I promised I'd read to them tonight and I'm not breaking that promise just because it's inconvenient."
We get the kids into their pajamas through a combination of cajoling and gentle threats. Isaac insists on brushing his own teeth, which results in more toothpaste on his face than in his mouth, but Amelia cleans him up with patient hands and a warm washcloth. Riley needs help with her hair, the tangles from playing outside earlier requiring careful work, and I watch Amelia navigate it with the same gentle competence she brings to everything involving the kids.
Finally, they're both in Riley's room, tucked into her bed together because Isaac still doesn't like sleeping alone sometimes. The nightlight in the corner casts soft shadows across the walls, and the window is cracked just enough to let in the cool evening air. I settle into the reading chair with a book Riley picked out earlier, some story about a girl who talks to animals.
Amelia curls up in the beanbag chair in the corner, content to just listen, and I find myself reading to all three of them. My voice fills the room, doing different voices for each character in a way that makes the kids giggle and Amelia smile.
By the time I finish the story, both kids are fighting sleep, their eyes drooping even as they try to stay awake. I close the book and stand, moving to tuck them in properly. Riley's stuffed rabbit has fallen to the floor and I retrieve it, placing it within her reach.
"Love you, Dad," Riley mumbles, already halfway gone.
"Love you too, sweetheart." I press a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent of strawberry shampoo and childhood, then move to Isaac. "You too, buddy."
"Love you," he manages, his words slurred with sleep. His truck is clutched in one small fist, held tight even in sleep.
Amelia and I slip out of the room quietly, pulling the door mostly closed behind us but leaving it cracked in case they call for us. The hallway feels suddenly smaller with just the two of us, the air thick with something I can't quite name.
We move through the house together, turning off lights, checking that doors are locked. A routine that's become comfortable without us planning it. At the top of the stairs, we both pause outside Riley's door, listening to make sure they're really asleep. Isaac's soft snoring drifts through the crack, and Amelia's lips curve into a fond smile.
"Are you staying tonight?" The question comes out before I can overthink it, my voice lower than I intended.
She turns to face me, her expression shifting into something playful. "Is this you asking for some time with me?"
"Yes." I close the distance between us, my hand coming up to cup her face, my thumb stroking across her cheekbone. Her skin is fever-warm beneath my palm. "I'm done watching from the sidelines. I'm done pretending I don't want you every second of every day. So yes, this is me asking. Begging, if necessary. Please stay."
Her smile is brilliant, lighting up her whole face in a way that makes my chest ache. "I was wondering if you'd ever ask."
"Really?" I study her face, looking for any sign that she's just being polite, that she doesn't actually want this. "You've been waiting?"
"Silas." She reaches up to cover my hand with hers, pressing it more firmly against her cheek. "You've been circling around me for weeks now. Bringing me tea, making sure I've eaten, finding excuses to be in whatever room I'm in. But you never asked for more than that. Never pushed for anything beyond those small gestures. I started to think maybe you didn't want more."
"I want everything," I admit roughly, the words pulled from somewhere deep and honest. "I want you in my bed, wakingup beside me, building this life together. I want to court you properly, bring you gifts that show I'm paying attention. I want all of it, Amelia. I'm just terrified of messing this up."
"You won't mess it up." Her free hand comes up to rest on my chest, right over my heart. I can feel my pulse hammering beneath her palm. "We'll figure it out together. That's what you keep telling me, right? One step at a time?"
"One step at a time," I echo, and then I'm kissing her properly, the way I've wanted to since that morning in the kitchen. Deep and slow and thorough, pouring everything I can't quite say into the press of my lips against hers.
Amelia
He leads me toward his bedroom, his voice a lower register than before to keep from waking the kids or the rest of the house for that matter. "Your heat is getting closer," he says quietly, threading his fingers through mine. "You can feel it, can't you?"
"Yes." I mumble, slightly embarrassed that my blockers are no longer working, that my scent is so expressive. It was always a constant fear with Vincent but with Silas and Wyatt and Hunter, it’s more of just understanding my own body. The fact that theydon’t react aggressively or make a big deal about it helps. "I thought I had more time."
"Scent matches can accelerate the cycle." His dark eyes are warm behind his glasses, understanding rather than judgmental. "Your body recognizes us. It wants to bond."
The word 'bond' makes my stomach flip with a mixture of want and fear. Bonding is permanent. Bonding means belonging to them in a way that can't be undone. It means bite marks and biological connection and forever.
"I'm not ready for that," I whisper, gripping his hand a little tighter. "For bonding. Not yet."
"Then we won't bond," Silas says immediately, turning to face me. "A heat doesn't require a bond, sweetheart. We can be with you through it, take care of you, without making it permanent. Not until you're ready."
