"I didn't choose the wolf," I say softly. "The wolf caught me."
"And the wolf is starving," he growls.
He lowers his head.
I think he’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. The adrenaline of the storm has morphed into something else—a hum of electricity in my veins that demands contact.
But he doesn't kiss my lips.
He presses his mouth to the scar on my soul—or the closest physical thing to it. He kisses the pulse point at my throat, right above the diamond collar.
It’s a hot, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue traces the vein. He sucks gently, leaving a mark.
I gasp, my head falling back, exposing myself to him.
"Silas..."
"Shh," he vibrates against my skin. "Don't speak. Just feel."
He moves his hands down my back, cupping my ass through the thin silk, pulling me harder against his erection. He is hard. Painfully hard.
"You feel that?" he whispers against my throat. "That’s for you. All of it. But I won't take you. Not tonight."
"Why?" I breathe, frustrated and confused.
"Because you came to me for safety," he says, pulling back to look me in the eye. His expression is tortured, strained with control. "If I take you now, while you’re scared, I’m no better than my father. I’m no better than yours."
He brushes his thumb over my wet lips.
"I want you brave, Ivy. I want you to come to my bed when the sun is shining, not just when the lightning strikes."
He stands up, lifting me with him effortlessly.
"Come. The storm is passing."
He carries me back upstairs, through the dark hallways, back to the bedroom.
He lays me on the bed and covers me with the duvet. He lies down next to me, fully clothed, on top of the covers.
He pulls me against his side.
"Sleep," he commands.
And for the first time in my life, with the storm still raging faintly in the distance and the man who kidnapped me holding me captive in his arms...
I sleep.
CHAPTER 14
THE MECHANICAL EYE
POV: SILAS
Peace is a lie. It is merely the breath before the scream.
For three days, the Estate has been quiet. The storm passed, leaving behind a scoured, brilliant blue sky and an ocean that laps lazily against the cliffs. Inside the house, a fragile rhythm has established itself.
I work in my office, monitoring the shipping lanes and the money laundering operations that keep Vane Enterprises at the top of the food chain. Ivy paints in the conservatory. We eat dinner together. She sleeps in my bed, curled against my side, stealing my body heat while pretending she hates my touch.
