Page 68 of Silent Stalker

I should feel revulsion at his casual mention of murder. Instead, I find myself leaning closer, drawn to this raw honesty. The damaged boy became a predator. The neglected child who learned to take ultimate control.

The shadows in my childhood bedroom grow longer as Silas's confession hangs in the air. His eyes are fixed on a point beyond the window, lost in memory.

"Two years after my first taste of control, I knew what to do." His fingers tap against the windowsill. "Father's wealth was trapped in their hands. I couldn't let that continue."

My breath catches. "Your parents?"

"A tragic accident." His voice carries no emotion. "Brake lines are so delicate, especially on mountain roads. The investigation found nothing suspicious, my parents were just another wealthy couple who took a curve too fast."

The chill that runs through me isn't entirely from fear. Part of me understands the calculated precision, the perfect execution. "And their fortune?"

"Sole heir." He turns to face me, the moonlight casting half his face in shadow. "One hundred million dollars. Father never bothered changing the will; probably thought I'd died in the streets somewhere."

I should be horrified. A son orchestrating his parents' deaths for money and revenge. But I find myself thinking of my own father, how many times I'd wished him gone during those drunken years instead of Mom.

"Did it feel like justice?" I ask.

"No." Silas's eyes meet mine. "It felt like freedom."

I reach out and place my hand on his arm, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Thank you for telling me."

Silas's jaw tightens, and he shifts away from my hand as if the gentle contact burns. His shoulders become rigid, and his spine straightens into that perfect posture I've come to recognize as his defense mechanism.

"I've never..." He stops, swallowing hard. The moonlight catches the sharp edge of his cheekbone as he turns his face away. "You're the first person I've told any of this."

The admission hangs between us, heavy with meaning. I think of all his carefully constructed walls and the perfect masks he wears. How many years has he carried these memories alone?

"Silas." I keep my voice soft, reaching for him again despite his earlier withdrawal. "Look at me."

He doesn't move at first, but I wait. Finally, those blue eyes meet mine, and I glimpse something raw and vulnerable beneath his usual predatory gaze.

"You don't have to hide from me." My fingers brush his cheek. "I see you. All of you."

His breath catches, and for a moment, I think he might pull away again. Instead, he leans into my touch ever so slightly. It's a tiny movement, but from Silas, it feels monumental.

"I know you do." His voice comes out rough. "That's what makes you dangerous."

"I'm not dangerous," I whisper, tracing my fingers along his jaw. "But together? We'll be unstoppable."

I press my lips to him, pouring every ounce of understanding and acceptance into the kiss. For a heartbeat, Silas remains still, like a statue beneath my touch.

Then something snaps.

His hands fist in my hair, yanking my head back as his mouth crashes against mine. Gone is his calculated control – this is pure animal instinct. His teeth sink into my bottom lip, the sharp sting making me gasp. The metallic taste of blood mingles with our kiss.

I clutch at his shoulders as he backs me against the wall, his body caging mine. One hand releases my hair to grip my throat, my thumb pressing against my pulse point. His other hand tears at my clothes, desperate and demanding.

His mouth moves to my neck, teeth scraping over sensitive skin. Each bite sends sparks of pleasure-pain through my body. I arch into him, wanting more, wanting everything he's willing to give.

This isn't the controlled, meticulous Silas I've known. This is the beast beneath the mask, raw and primal. His growl vibrates against my throat as he marks me, claiming me as his.

It happens fast. One moment, I'm standing there, my breath catching as Silas's hands tighten on my body, and the next, I'm pressed against the wall, his weight holding me in place.

I can't breathe, pinned by the hard planes of his body, his mouth on my throat. The plaster digs into my back, his hands gripping my hips, lifting me off the ground. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, seeking purchase, my body already aching with the need for more.

The moment his cock thrusts into me, I shatter. It's a brutal invasion, the harsh scrape of teeth and tongue giving way to something deeper and more primal. He's ravenous, devouring me, and I'm consumed by the fire in his kiss.

His fingers dig into my thighs as he lifts me higher, angling me to take him deeper. Everything else fades away. The world could end outside this bedroom, and I wouldn't be able to care about it.