Novels by Syl_vaine

As Arielle's strength returns, so does her sharpness. She argues with me over breakfast. She criticizes the way I organize the refrigerator. She accuses me of hovering, which I am, but I am not about to admit it."You're like a shadow," she says, pouring herself coffee with hands that only tremble slightly now. "A very tall, very brooding shadow.""I'm making sure you don't collapse again.""I'm not going to collapse. I'm fine.""You said that before. Then you passed out for eight hours.""That was different.""How?"

Arielle wakes in the late afternoon.I am sitting in the armchair by the window when I hear it—a soft, confused sound, halfway between a sigh and a question. I am on my feet before I know I am moving.Her eyes are open. Cloudy. Disoriented. But open."Kael?" Her voice is a rasp, barely audible."I'm here." I sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hand. "You're okay. You're safe. You passed out. The doctor came. She said you need to rest.""I feel like I got hit by a truck.""You look like you got hit by a truck."

Emery asks about Arielle seventeen times before noon.Mrs. Hartley handles most of the questions with the calm, practiced patience of a woman who has raised children and managed crises and learned that panic never helps. But eventually, the questions become too pointed, too frightened, and Mrs. Hartley comes to find me in the study."She wants to see her sister, sir.""No." The word comes out sharper than I intended. "She can't see her like this.""With respect, Mr. Draven, the child is terrified. She knows something is wrong. Keeping her away may make it worse."I rub my hand across my jaw. I ha

The physician's name is Dr. Kessler. She is a Beta, middle-aged, with silver-streaked hair pulled back in a severe bun and eyes that have seen too many Omegas in crisis to be surprised by anything. She examines Arielle with quick, efficient hands while I stand in the corner of the room, my arms crossed, my jaw tight, every muscle in my body coiled with the effort of not intervening."How long has she been unconscious?" Dr. Kessler asks without looking up."A few hours. She was awake last night. She was fine." The wordfinetastes like a lie. She was not fine. She was exhausted and overwhelmed and trembling in my arms, and I should have known. I should have stopped. I should have been more careful.

POV: KaelI wake to silence.Not the peaceful silence of early morning, when the city is still shaking off sleep and the light through the windows is gray and gentle. This is a different kind of silence. Heavy. Wrong. The kind of silence that settles into a room like something waiting.The sheets beneath me are damp. The air is thick with the mingled scent of us—cedar and steel and the soft, sweet Omega scent that Arielle's body has finally begun releasing after years of chemical suppression. The Nest around us is a wreck. Blankets tangled. Pillows scattered. The evidence of what happened between us written into every rumpled fold of fabric.She is curled on her side, facing away from me. Her breathing is shallow. Her shoulders are still.I reach for her."Arielle."Nothing.My hand settles on her shoulder, and her skin is warm—too warm—and limp beneath my touch. She does not stir. Does not flinch. Does not ma

It's not gentle. It's not asking permission. It's three days of restraint shattering all at once, his mouth on mine, his tongue sliding past my lips, his taste flooding my senses. He kisses like he's been starving. Like he's been dying. Like I'm the only thing that can save him.I kiss him back just as hard. My hands come up to grip his shoulders, my nails digging into the fabric of his sweater. I want it off. I want everything off. I want to feel his skin against mine, his weight on top of me, his scent soaked into every pore of my body."I hate your sweater," I gasp against his mouth.He pulls back, breathing hard. "What?""I hate your sweater. Take it off."Something flickers in his eyes. Surprise. Hunger. Delight. "Bossy.""I will bite you again.""Promise?"He sits back on his heels, still straddling me, and pull