The Flame beneath the Skin

Silas’s words hung in the quiet room, heavy and charged with a strange, dark electricity.

Aria’s pulse hammered against her ribs. She wanted to pull away from his touch, to rebuild the thick walls around her heart, but her body betrayed her. Where his fingertips grazed her collarbone, a sharp, golden warmth radiated deep into her chest, lashing against the cold, dead place where her pack bond used to be.

"You're crazy," Aria breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "My wolf was declared dormant on my sixteenth birthday. I am an omega with no strength, no standing, and no value. Ask anyone in Blood Moon."

Silas chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated straight through the floorboards. He didn't pull his hand away. Instead, his fingers trailed slowly down the slope of her shoulder, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone.

Aria gasped softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second as a wave of pure heat shot down her spine. It was raw, intoxicating, and completely overwhelming.

"Blood Moon is run by fools who mistake brute force for true power," Silas said softly, his golden eyes burning with an intense, unyielding light. "They couldn't see what you were because they were too terrified of what you might become."

He leaned closer, his chest nearly touching hers. The scent of him—rich cedar, rain, and dark amber—flooded her senses, making her head spin. He was huge, lethal, and capable of snapping her neck in a heartbeat, yet the way he looked at her made her feel like the most dangerous thing in the room.

"Look at me, Aria," Silas commanded gently.

She opened her eyes, locking onto his gaze.

"I don't keep weak things in my fortress," he murmured, his thumb gently catching her lower lip, tracing the soft curve. "And I certainly don't go to war for useless omegas. Your wolf spoke to mine the moment I picked you up in the mud. She is old, Aria. And she is furious."

Aria’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart beat wildly, not from fear, but from the electric pull between them that was growing stronger with every passing second. She reached up, her small hand resting against his solid chest, intending to push him back—but the moment her palm made contact with the warm leather of his shirt, a spark of pure magic flared between them.

Silas let out a harsh, ragged breath. His eyes darkened to a deep, molten gold, his pupils dilating until the iris was almost swallowed whole.

For a terrifying, thrilling moment, Aria thought he was going to lean down and kiss her. His gaze dropped to her mouth, his jaw clenching as he fought for control. The air in the room grew thick, heavy with the unmistakable scent of an Alpha’s arousal and the electric static of a rising mate pull.

Silas forced himself to freeze. He took a slow, deep breath, stepping back just an inch, though his eyes never left hers.

"Get dressed," Silas said, his voice lower and rasper than before. "The pack doctor will be here shorty to check your ankles. Once you can walk, I want you in the courtyard."

Aria swallowed hard, her hand falling back to the mattress, still tingling from where she had touched him. "Why?"

Silas smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of his lips that sent a shiver straight to her core.

"Because if Julian wants a war, I am going to make sure you are the one who cuts his throat."