Chapter 33

My body feels like jelly after what feels like sleeping for days. I stir and discover that I’m snuggled against Silas, his muscular body warm and comforting, my head resting on his chest. As I start to remember all that’s happened, my eyes spring open and search the ceiling.

When did I fall asleep? The shadows on the ceiling are dancing as if alive, but the room is brighter than before, gleaming off the faint mark on my hand. My hand. I lift it to the light, and the tattoo, a complex symbol, shimmers in response to the rays of sun, the shadows dancing along its lines. It’s real. It’s actually real. I’m marked.

Goosebumps spread across my skin, and I lower my hand, trying to get my emotions in check. I succeeded in the unbinding. Me. Little old Mara. Alone, I did it. I pull the blankets tighter around me, suppressing a shiver as I recall the rush of power I felt. What did I awaken? And why am I not afraid? There’s a thrill, deep in my bones, that scares me more than any amount of fear ever could.

As Silas stirs, I realize that our bodies are still naked and tangled together. I feel no shame or embarrassment. Instead, I run my eyes over his face, taking in his strong jaw and those dark, serious eyes, now soft as they blink sleep away.

“Hey, you’re finally awake,” he murmurs. “How’re you feeling?”

I take a moment to inventory my body. The soreness is there, a pleasant reminder of the heat, but beyond that, I feel… alright. My core doesn’t feel depleted, and my body doesn’t ache like I imagined it would. I stretch, testing this new theory, and laugh when my limbs obey without protest.

“I feel good,” I admit. “Surprisingly good.”

Silas smiles, looking relieved. “Hungry?” he asks, running his hand through my hair.

“Starving,” I say, then add cheekily, “for you.”

Silas chuckles, squeezing me to his chest. “I knew I wore you out, but it seems like the little omega has some fight left in her yet.”

The little omega. That’s me. I feel a surge of affection for this alpha who claimed me. Claimed me so thoroughly, in fact, that the mark of his bite shows on my neck, a brand proclaiming me as his, and his alone. I lift my chin, offering him the mark, and he rewards me with another kiss.

“Always,” he says, his eyes passionate. “And now that you’re not so exhausted, I plan to collect on that. Starting with breakfast.”

I smile. For the first time in a long time, I feel safe. Secure in the knowledge that I have Silas. Secure enough to explore this new power simmering within me.

The shadows flutter as if in agreement, and my heart skips a beat. I repress a squeak, but Silas notices the movement in the shadows, and his eyes narrow.

“Something’s different,” he says, frowning. “What did you do while I slept?”

Busted. I bite my lip, considering my response. Do I tell him about the tattoo? About the rush of power? About the shadows that dance to my tune now? I open my mouth to confess, but the words die on my tongue.

“I’ll tell you later,” I say instead, running my hand through his hair. “First, breakfast.”

Silas raises an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with suspicion, but he doesn’t press further. He kisses me once more, his lips soft and insistent, then rises from the bed and pads, nude, to the kitchen area. I should offer to cook, I know, but with the remnants of my heat still humming through my veins, I can’t bring myself to do anything but watch as he pulls various items from the fridge—berries, bowls of yogurt, and a small jar of honey.

As I watch, a spark of possessiveness surges within me. My Silas. A growl escapes my throat, and I shake my head, smiling at my foolishness.

“What was that?” Silas glances over his shoulder, his eyes glittering with amusement and curiosity.

“Nothing,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat. “Just… hungry, I guess.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and rumbling, sending a shiver down my spine. “Well, your wish is my command, my little omega.” He winks, setting the bowls on the table before returning to the fridge for a pair of spoons. “Eat up.”

I comply, savoring the burst of sweetness from the berries, the tang of yogurt, and the golden ooze of honey. But my appetite is for something else entirely, and my gaze lingers on Silas as he sits across from me, his broad shoulders backlit by the morning sun streaming through the windows. He catches me looking and smirks, his eyes darkening with desire, and my pulse quickens.

The bowls are soon empty, but it’s not enough. I want to feast on him. My bite on his neck is small, but the larger one on his shoulder will fade more slowly. Claimed. I branded him with marks of my own, and just the thought of that sends a pulse of power through me, almost making me drop my spoon.

“You’re staring,” Silas says, his lips curving in a satisfied smile.

“Can you blame me?” I retort, licking my lips. “You’re rather…” Words fail me, so I settle for tracing the contours of his shoulders and chest with my eyes.

Silas stands and crosses to me, his eyes flicking to the bandage on my wrist. “Well, if you like what you see, I’m all yours.” His voice deepens. “Quite literally.”

I finish the sentence with a growl, lurching toward him and toppling the bowls with a clatter. Silas’ lips crash into mine, cutting off my growl with a laugh. He tastes like the honey from breakfast, and his mouth is hot and insistent against mine. We stumble, tripping over the discarded blankets and knocking into the table. Silas tears his lips from mine to trail kisses down my neck, and I gasp as he nips at the bite mark, possessive, demanding.

“Alpha,” I whimper, my hands fisting in his hair.

“Yes, my omega?” His breath is hot against my skin, his hands gripping my hips, marking me with strong fingers.

“More,” I plead. The word is a plea, a demand, and a prayer all in one. More of his kisses, his touch, his…

My words are cut off as Silas lifts me, carrying me to the bed and depositing me in the center. He looms over me, his eyes dark with raw desire, and a shiver runs through me. I’ve never seen this look on him before—usually, it’s me who’s begging, but now… now, he’s the one who’s eager.

I reach for him, wanting to pull him down, but he steps back, out of my grasp. I whine, frustrated, but he just chuckles, low and deep.

“Patience, my little omega,” he teases, his eyes burning into mine. “I’m going to make this good. For both of us.”

And then he begins to undress, slowly, drawing out my agony. Why did we even put clothes back on? I’m already slick, desperate for him, and the sight of his perfect body only intensifies my need. Every flex of his muscles, every shift of his shoulders, sends a pulse of desire through me, and I squirm on the bed, helpless to do anything but watch.

“Silas, please,” I beg, my eyes fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. “I need you.”

“I know,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

He kneels before me, his fingers going to the laces of his boots. Slowly, agonizingly, he undresses, peeling each layer away to reveal more of his tattooed, muscular body. My mouth goes dry, and my core clenches with need.

Finally, he stands before me, gloriously naked, his erection hard and proud. I lunge for him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and he chuckles, lowering himself to the bed, his body covering mine.

“Impatient,” he teases, his breath hot against my ear. “But I like it.”

His mouth covers mine, and I sink into the kiss, surrendering to the heat, the need, and the passion that flares between us. Our bodies move in perfect synchrony—an erotic dance, fraught with need and the spark of something deeper. Something that goes beyond just our physical connection.

Silas pulls back, his eyes darkened with lust, and searches my face.

“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice rough. “You sure you’re not too sore?”

I nod, my eyes never leaving his. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with longing. “I’m yours. Always.”

He growls, low and possessive, his eyes flashing with a feral light, and with one swift motion, he enters me, claiming me as thoroughly as he did during my heat.

I cry out, my body arching to meet his, and Silas stills, his eyes searching mine for any sign of discomfort. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him on, and he begins to move, his pace steady, his eyes never leaving mine.

“That’s it, my little omega,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Take it all.”

And fuck me, that’s exactly what I did.