The armory door is ajar. I ease closer andfind Silas inside.
Rather than working like he always is, he’s on a bench against the far wall, hunched over. His elbows are braced on his knees, and his hands are locked on the sides of his head so tightly that his knuckles are white. His chin is tucked, like he’s bracing for impact.
Another crack of thunder splits the air, and his whole body jerks.
“Silas,” I say gently.
He doesn’t look up. “Don’t. You shouldn’t be here.” He sounds like he’s short of breath.
This isn’t the same man who avoids eye contact. He isn’t responding with his usual cold distance or professional withdrawal. There’s something raw and exposed about him right now.
Another round of thunder hits, close enough that the sound seems to roll through the walls. Silas’s shoulders lock, and his breath stutters.
I step inside and close the door behind me.
His head snaps up, but he doesn't meet my eyes. “I said don’t.”
I keep my voice quiet, even. “I hear you.”
“You’re not listening.” His eyes are too bright as they scan past me like he’s tracking something that isn’t there. “This isn’t—” He cuts himself off and draws in a heavy breath. “You should go.”
He might notwantsomeone with him, but heneedssomeone.
Another thunder clap, lower this time, and longer. I can imagine it sounding like artillery fire.
Silas’s breathing is shallow. His fingers flex with tension.
“You’re here,” I say softly. “You’re safe.”
He lets out a humorless laugh.
I take another step. “I’m not going to leave you alone like this.”
Another burst of thunder. Silas swears under his breath.
I reach for him and cautiously set a hand on his forearm.
He inhales sharply, his body stiffening. “Kira?—”
“I know,” I whisper.
His throat works as he swallows. “I can’t?—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I say. “Just don’t shut me out.”
He grips my wrist and holds tight, but as thunder rolls again, longer this time, something in him breaks. He pulls me in roughly, like he’s afraid I’m about to disappear. He presses his face to mine, his mouth at my cheek, his breath harsh and hot on my skin.
I hold him tightly, hoping my touch can ground him and give him what he needs to get through the storm.
We hold each other through the quiet and then through another round of thunder. Silas’s body twitches, but he keeps holding on. A minute later, when the next boom lands, he’s still, except for a breath shudderingout of him.
He pulls away, looks into my eyes, then gazes down at his hand that’s still holding my arm. His fingers flex, but he doesn’t let go.
“I’m here for you,” I whisper. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
His blue eyes meet mine again, searching.
His hand lets go of my wrist, only to wrap around the back of my head, his fingers burrowing into my hair. His beard brushes my face, and his mouth finds mine, desperate and wanting.
