"Silas." His name came out as a whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders, my whole body trembling with the intensity of it.
"Mine." The word was barely audible, growled against my throat, his nose tracing the line from my ear to my collarbone. "Not yet. But soon. If you want." He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his pale gaze blazing with something that looked like hope and terror twisted together.
"I want." I pulled him back down, kissing him hard, pouring every ounce of certainty I had into the press of my lips against his, my fingers tangled in his dark hair. "Thursday." I gaspedwhen we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, my lips swollen and tingling. "I have something to tell all of you. Together." I pressed my forehead against his, feeling his pulse racing to match mine, his hands still gripping my waist like he couldn't bear to let go.
"About the pack." It wasn't a question, his voice low and certain, his pale eyes searching mine with that unnerving intensity that saw too much, always saw too much.
"About the pack." I confirmed, reaching up to trace the sharp line of his jaw with trembling fingers, the stubble rough against my fingertips, my heart still racing from the kiss. "About what I want. Who I want." I smiled, watching something fierce and hopeful bloom across his features, softening the sharp edges of his face. "All of you." I added, soft but certain, letting him see the truth of it in my eyes.
He kissed me again—softer this time, almost reverent—and then tucked me against his side, his arm heavy and warm around my shoulders. We stood there watching Luna watch us, two predators circling each other, recognizing something kindred in the way we moved through the world.
"Tell me about her." I said after a while, my voice soft so as not to disturb the peaceful morning, nodding toward the wolf who had settled back onto her paws, amber eyes half-closed in the warming light. "How did you find her?" I asked, leaning into Silas's warmth, feeling his arm tighten around me.
"Poacher's trap." His voice went flat, dangerous. "Up near the state line. Someone reported hearing howling for three days straight." His arm tightened around me. "By the time I got there, she'd chewed halfway through her own leg trying to get free." He paused, his jaw working. "Most people would have put her down. Damaged goods. Too far gone." He shook his head slowly. "I saw something else." He finished quietly.
"What did you see?" I tilted my head to look up at him, my hand resting on his chest, watching the play of emotions across his usually impassive face.
"A survivor." He met my eyes, something raw and honest in his gaze. "Something that refused to die, no matter how much it hurt. Something worth saving." His thumb traced circles on my shoulder. "I see a lot of that, in this work. Animals that should give up but don't. That keep fighting even when there's no reason to." He paused, his pale eyes distant. "Reminds me of the men I served with. The ones who didn't make it back." He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Marcus. Jonesy. DeShawn. Tommy." I said their names softly, remembering when he'd first told me, the weight of them on his tongue.
His whole body went still, then slowly relaxed, something like wonder crossing his features. "You remembered." He said, his voice rough with emotion he was clearly trying to contain.
"Of course I remembered." I reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at me. "They mattered to you. That means they matter to me." I held his gaze, willing him to understand. "You carry them with you every day. The least I can do is help carry their names." I told him softly. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch, and I felt the tremor that ran through him.
"Breakfast." He said finally, his voice rough with emotion he was clearly trying to contain, his thumb brushing across my lower lip one last time before he stepped back. "Mae's diner. She makes good biscuits." He added, already steering me toward the truck with a hand on the small of my back like it belonged there, like he'd been guiding me through the world his whole life.
"Biscuits sound perfect." I let him guide me toward the truck, still feeling the ghost of his mouth on my throat, the claiming weight of his scent settling into my skin like it belonged there.
The drive to Mae's felt familiar now—the squat building with its hand-painted sign, the parking lot full of work trucks, the kind of place that had been there forever and would be there long after everything else crumbled. Silas parked around back in the same spot as last time, away from the other vehicles, and came around to open my door before I could reach the handle.
"She'll want details." He warned, his pale eyes scanning the lot out of habit, checking exits and sight lines even in familiar territory. "Mae. About... us. She's persistent." He added, something that might have been affection warming his rough voice.
"I can handle persistent." I grinned up at him, taking his hand as we walked toward the entrance, our fingers lacing together naturally. "I handle you three, don't I?" I teased, bumping my shoulder against his arm.
The corner of his mouth twitched, the closest thing to a smile I'd seen from him all morning. "Fair point." He conceded, his voice dry as he held the door open for me, one hand hovering at the small of my back.
The diner was warm and bright, smelling of coffee and bacon and something sweet baking in the back. A handful of early risers occupied the booths—construction workers, mostly, hunched over their plates and newspapers. A woman behind the counter looked up as we entered, and her weathered face split into a knowing smile.
"Well, well." Mae wiped her hands on her apron, her sharp eyes taking in our joined hands, the way Silas hovered even closer to my shoulder than last time. "Back again, you two. And looking even more tangled up than before." She came around the counter, moving with the easy confidence of a woman who'd spent forty years running this place, pulling me into a brief, flour-dusted hug before I could react. "Told you she was goodpeople." She said to Silas, her voice carrying warmth I hadn't expected.
"Mae." Silas ducked his head, something almost shy flickering across his features that made my heart squeeze.
"Don't you 'Mae' me." She swatted his arm with a dish towel, then turned her sharp gaze on me. "You've got him coming back for seconds. That's more than most manage." She grabbed two mugs and jerked her chin toward what I was starting to think of as "their booth" in the back corner. "Same spot. I'll bring the good coffee." She said, already moving toward the kitchen.
Silas guided me to the booth with his hand on my lower back, sliding in across from me with that constant awareness, his pale eyes still scanning exits and windows out of habit. Some things never changed.
"She really does like you." He said quietly, something like wonder still coloring his voice as Mae returned with coffee and poured without asking. "She doesn't warm up to people. Not usually." He added, his pale eyes following Mae's movements.
"The usual for both of you?" Mae asked, one hand on her hip, already scribbling on her pad. "And don't tell me you're not hungry. I can see your ribs from here, Silas Fontaine." She scolded, though her eyes were soft.
"Yes, ma'am." He ducked his head again, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning at this deadly predator being mothered by a sixty-something diner owner.
Mae patted his shoulder as she passed. "Good boy. And you—" She pointed at me. "Make sure he actually eats. He forgets if someone doesn't remind him." She disappeared into the kitchen, muttering about young people not taking care of themselves.
"She really does care about you." I said softly, wrapping my hands around my coffee mug, watching the warmth in Mae's eyes when she looked at him.
Silas nodded, his long fingers wrapped around his own mug, his pale eyes fixed on the dark liquid inside. "She just sees me. Feeds me when I forget to eat. Kicks me out when I've been alone too long." Something soft crossed his features. "Found family, I guess." He admitted quietly.
