Chapter 16 – I'm Not Going Anywhere

~ LYRA ~

I almost melt into a puddle as Ronan takes my hands in his, his molten eyes locking on mine with an intensity that steals my breath from my lungs.

"No, I don't," he replies, his voice sure and firm. "You promised me the weekend, remember? I'm only going to take what you're willing to give me." He pauses, and then the corners of his lips lifts as he adds, "For now, anyway."

Butterflies erupt in the pit of my belly, and I clench my thighs when it's joined by the pool of wetness gathering between my legs.

Lord! Ronan Bane is dangerous.

He knows just the right thing to say in every situation. But still, I’m worried. Whether it’s for him or my parents, I’m not sure. "You'll have to make them believe that before they'll let me leave. If you don't, Silas might shoot you."

I inwardly grimace as I hear my stepfather's voice in my head, warning my potential suitors they'd be staring down the barrel of the gun he kept behind the front door if they lay a finger on his daughter. I’d thought he was joking until high school when Elias, our neighbor’s son and my study partner, visited our house. Poor Elias pissed his pants. Silas had puffed his chest out with pride as Elias fled and I’d been left standing on the porch, embarrassed and horrified.

Suffice it to say, I studied biology on my own that day. Though Silas later warmed to the idea of Elias as my study partner, Elias never forgot the incident. Although, it didn’t stop him from driving me to Ashridge Hollow last night. I wonder what Silas will do if he finds out.

"Duly noted," Ronan replies, moving back to his seat and putting the car in gear. "I'll be on my best behavior."

The heavyweight in my gut builds, making me queasy as he takes the vehicle up the drive. Before we left Ronan’s home, I’d convinced myself I was a grown woman making my own decisions. I’d felt good about it then—confident. I’m not a child anymore. My parents, as much as I love them, have interfered in my life too long. It’s time to take the reins and start living as I choose.

Sadly, a forty-minute drive has the ability to chip away that newfound sense of independence.

Just as I feared, the door opens when we pull next to the house. And out comes Silas, dressed in his usual jeans and work shirt, toting the very shotgun I warned Ronan about. Despite the fifty years behind him, my stepfather still looks middle-aged. His broad shoulders remain as intimidating as ever, the stern look on his face daring anyone to mess with him.

The door opens again, and Maura appears. While Silas can put the fear of God in someone, Maura has the opposite impact. Five years younger than her husband, she too looks gracefully youthful. She always has a welcoming smile and a more easygoing temperament.

Despite the firearm, Ronan doesn’t look worried. He puts the vehicle in park, kills the engine, and reaches for the handle. Instinctively, I reach out to stop him, fear and concern crashing into me. That strange part of me—the one from last night—rears its head. It wants to protect the man beside me, to warn those who’d threaten him.

Ronan’s eyes shift, becoming intense and radiant. He wraps his fingers in the hair at my nape, giving it a sharp tug. A humming energy extends from him to me, wrapping around me like a cocoon the prickles of what seem like an electric current sharp and piercing.

"No, you don't," he whispers, meeting my gaze. "Back down. Now."

Abruptly, the rage inside me begins to recede. I frown, perplexed.

"What the hell was that?" I ask.

His fingers slide from my hair, the prickly sensation vanishing as he shakes his head. "Something we'll talk about when we're alone." He opens his door and steps out. "Let’s go meet your family. They’re waiting."

Taking a deep breath, I open my door before he makes it around the car. After I climb out and shut it, I turn to face Silas. As I anticipated, he’s furious. Fury radiates off him, eyes narrowed, disapproval etched on his face. My shoulders slump as guilt hits me like a fist. I hate it when Silas is mad. That’s why I always do everything to avoid upsetting him.

Ronan moves beside me and wraps an arm around my waist.

"Get away from him, Lilly," Silas orders, using the nickname he gave me as a child as he lifts the gun. "Walk yourself up here and go inside."

"Silas," Maura whispers from behind him. "Calm down for a minute, love."

"Don't, Maura. Not right now," he growls. Glancing at me, his gaze hardens. "His kind isn’t welcome here."

I feel Ronan’s muscles tense. I want to glance at him but think better of it. Before I can speak, Ronan gives me a gentle nudge toward the house.

"Go inside, baby," he says, his voice gruff.

"What?" I gasp, tearing my gaze from Silas to the man who’s evidently lost his mind.

"You need to trust me, honey." He takes a step forward, the hand at my lower back guiding me. "Go inside for a moment, okay? Don’t worry, everything is gonna be alright."

He nudges me again, making me take another couple of steps forward. Maura descends the stairs, taking my hand.

"Come inside, sweetheart. Let the men sort their issues."

"But…" I start, whipping my head around. Ronan’s folded his arms, legs shoulder-width apart. His gaze is locked on Silas.

"While you’re inside, pack your things. Your stepfather and I need to talk." For a second, his eyes flick to me. He gives me a comforting smile and winks. "I’m not going anywhere."

"Yes, you are," Silas snaps before pumping the shotgun. "If you don’t want a bullet in your head, you’ll get the hell off my property."

"Oh dear," Maura murmurs.