"Ivy."
His voice is closer.
I look up.
Silas has moved. He’s kneeling on the rug in front of me, between my legs. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.
"Look at me," he commands.
I lower my hands.
"It’s just noise," he says. "It can't hurt you. The walls are stone. The foundation is solid. Nothing gets in here unless I allow it."
"I know," I whisper. "But I can't stop the feeling. I feel like the sky is falling."
"Let it fall," he says darkly. "I’ll hold it up."
He reaches out and places his large, warm hands on my knees. His thumbs rub soothing circles against the silk of my nightgown.
"You’re safe," he promises. "You are in the eye of the storm. Nothing touches you here."
I look at him. The firelight dances in his eyes, making them look like molten gold. He looks fierce. Protective. Indestructible.
And God help me, I believe him.
My father threw plates. Silas’s father used a rifle stock. We are both wreckage from the men who were supposed to love us.
Maybe that’s why I don't pull away when his hands slide up my thighs. Maybe that’s why, when the next clap of thunder shakes the room, I don't cower.
I lean forward.
I slide off the sofa and onto the rug, into the space between his spread legs. I kneel before him, my hands resting on his chest.
Silas freezes. He looks down at me, surprise flickering in his expression.
"Ivy?"
"Hold me," I whisper. The words cost me everything, but I say them. "Just... hold me until it stops."
He doesn't hesitate. He doesn't mock me.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against his hard chest. One hand cradles the back of my head, pressing my face into the crook of his neck.
He smells of smoke and safety.
I close my eyes, breathing him in. His heart beats against my ear—steady, powerful, rhythmic. It drowns out the thunder. It drowns out the wind.
For a long time, we just stay like that. The monster and the captive, huddled together by the fire while the world ends outside.
His hand strokes my hair. Long, hypnotic movements.
"You should have shot me," he murmurs into my hair. "This morning. You should have pulled the trigger."
"Why?" I ask, my voice muffled against his shirt.
"Because now..." His grip tightens, his fingers digging into my scalp, turning possessive. "Now I’m never letting you go. You realized tonight that the dark is scary, didn't you? You realized you need the wolf to keep the other beasts away."
I pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. Our faces are inches apart. His lips are parted, his breath mingling with mine.
