Page 86 of Silent Stalker

I smile, my thumb brushing her bottom lip. "You're safe with me, Clara," I murmur. "I would never harm you."

I trace my fingers along Clara's jaw, memorizing every curve of her face. The early morning light casts shadows across her features, highlighting the marks I've left on her throat. My masterpiece.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever encountered," I whisper, my voice rough with emotion. "Before you, humans were merely pawns in my games. Disposable pieces are to be arranged and discarded. But you..." I pause, drinking in her vulnerable state. "You've become the canvas I want to paint my darkness on. The vessel I want to fill with my twisted desires."

My hand rests over her heart, feeling its rapid beat beneath my palm. "Every kill, every life I've taken, they were all leading me to you. You understand the beauty in the grotesque, the poetry in pain. Your darkness calls to mine like a siren's song."

I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. "You're the only one who sees the art in what others call madness. The only one worthy of sharing this symphony of chaos with me."

My thumb brushes across her bottom lip. "I want to consume you, possess you. You're my greatest creation, Clara. My perfect match in this world of mundane sheep."

Clara's eyes glisten with tears, but I see the recognition in them. She understands what I'm trying to say, the words that a man like me can never speak directly.

"My beautiful, twisted goddess," I murmur against her lips. "You've made a monster feel human."

Her lips brush against mine as she whispers, "I love you, too."

My heart stops. Something cracks inside me. Her simple declaration penetrates deeper than any blade ever could.

I capture her lips with mine, savoring the softness and sweetness. This kiss is different from all others because there's no urgency, no desperate need to possess—just pure connection.

My fingers thread through her hair as I cradle her head. Her body melts into mine, fitting perfectly against me. The realization hits me like a physical blow that Clara is what's been missing. All these years of emptiness, of feeling nothing but the thrill of the kill, she was the missing piece.

With her, I'm not just a predator seeking prey. I'm not just a monster wearing a human mask. She sees all of me—the darkness, the blood, the bodies I've left in my wake and still chooses to love me.

Her hands trail up my chest to cup my face, and I lean into her touch. No one has ever touched me like this like I'm something precious rather than something to fear or disposable, how my parents treated me.

"Clara," I breathe against her lips. The name feels sacred now, a prayer I never knew I needed to speak.

We stay lost in this moment, trading soft, unhurried kisses. For once, I don't feel the urge to control or dominate. This gentle exploration is enough. She's enough.

38

EPILOGUE

CLARA

Ten months later…

Iadjust my dress in the dim lighting of the Toronto nightclub, catching Silas's eye across the room. Our target sits at the bar, nursing his third drink. He's outwardly respectable like the others, but he preys on the weak and vulnerable. My skin prickles as I notice him watching me.

"Another vodka tonic," I tell the bartender, sliding closer to our mark. His eyes travel over me, just as we planned.

"Let me get that for you," he says, his smile practiced and smooth. I've studied his pattern and know how he chooses his victims and gains their trust. Tonight, he thinks he's found another.

I feel Silas's presence even though I can't see him anymore. He's moved into position, waiting. The familiar thrill runs through me, knowing we're working together in this dance.

"I'm Marcus," our target says, extending his hand. I take it, playing my role perfectly.

"Claire," I lie, giving him a shy smile that Silas and I know will hook him. Sure enough, Marcus shifts closer.

The night unfolds exactly as we orchestrated. Marcus suggests getting some air, and I pretend to be just tipsy enough to agree. As we walk toward the back alley, I sense Silas shadowing us, silent and lethal.

This is our life now, bringing justice where the law has failed. The evidence file on Marcus sits in my bag back home, filled with cases that were dismissed or never made it to court. But tonight, he'll face his final judgment.

I stumble slightly, letting Marcus catch my elbow. His grip is too tight and possessive. Behind us, I know Silas is moving closer, as graceful and deadly as a jungle cat. The rush hits me hard and fast—that intoxicating surge of adrenaline that blurs the line between fear and desire.

Marcus's fingers dig into my arm as he drags me deeper into the alley. My heart pounds, but not from fear. I know what's coming.