Page 59 of Vows of Silence

He wasn’t hurting me. Not really. Even though he looked as though he was barely holding himself together beneath that mask, he wasn’t causing me harm. He was simply… holding me?

Could it be… no, that was too stupid to even contemplate. Was Silas reaching out for human contact? Did he need—

Realisation hit me like a brick.

Hedidneed comfort.

He neededme.

For what or why, I had no idea. But he needed me. He just didn’t know how to show it. He came to me in a moment where he was out of control, and he was trying to show me something. He just couldn’t vocalise it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I found the strength to push against him, slipping my arms between our bodies. The next second, barely aware I had moved, my hands were gripping either side of his silver mask, cupping his cheeks.

I was taking one hell of a risk here, but either the beast was going to bite my hand off, or he was going to lay at my side, purring and tamed.

It was worth a shot.

“You’re okay,” I whispered, leaning forward to rest my forehead against his masked one.

His shoulders tensed, and for one terrifying second I thought I’d made the wrong call. His fist hit the wall again, but it didn’t seem to have as much force behind it as the ones before. So I kept going, pushing forward with my reassurance.

“Silas, you’re okay,” I repeated. “Whatever has happened, it’s okay. It will work out. You’re Silas Falcone. You can handle anything.”

I lowered one hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. “But you need to get control of yourself. This isn’t like you. Will you let me help?” I asked, looking up at him through my lashes.

He nodded once. A swift, curt nod, but a nod all the same.

“Breathe with me, Silas,” I took a deep breath, showing him what I wanted him to do. “Breathe in deep and hold it—one… two… three… four… five, and hold. Perfect!” I praised. I had been tapping his chest with every beat, offering a physical grounding point in time with our breathing.

It seemed as though the entire world stilled, shrinking down to just the two of us and this moment. Until it was just two people who needed each other for different reasons.

“Good! Hold it one second longer and… release,” I blew out as I finished talking, a long, steady breath that blew over the mask and had Silas sucking in a sharp breath of his own.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that I was using the exact same words Luca had once used to calm me down, following the same technique he had used.

But that didn’t matter. I encouraged Silas to breathe in and out with me a few more times, nice and slowly, enough so that his breathing regulated, his shoulders relaxed, and his arm disappeared from my throat. With that release, he stepped backever so slightly, lowering me to the floor until I was off my tiptoes and able to stand on the soles of my feet again.

My hand was still over his heart, my other still cupping his masked cheek. I kept my eyes locked on his as I moved my thumb, running it over the silver lips.

“Whatever happened, Silas, you’re okay,” I repeated, my words firmer now. “I’m right here with you.”

His breathing hitched beneath the mask, and I realised too late that for whatever reason, that had been the absolute wrong thing to say.

His black eyes turned to granite, his shoulders tensed up, and I braced myself for impact.

But rather than pinning me again, his fist slammed into the wall once more, and then he was gone, tearing through my room like a hurricane.

Books scattered across the floor as he swept the small table sideways, sending plastic containers crashing against the wall. The chair overturned next, skidding violently across the concrete. He destroyed everything in his path, laying waste to the haven he had created for me.

I stood frozen near the bed, my pulse hammering wildly as I watched him unravel in complete silence.

But underneath it all, I wasn’t as scared as I could have been. Because this wasn’t rage directed at me. That was the part I couldn’t stop noticing.

He had stormed into this room looking capable of murder, and yet not once—not once—had I truly thought he was going to hurt me.

The thought disturbed me deeply enough that I almost missed the moment Silas stopped moving altogether.

His chest rose heavily beneath the black fabric of his shirt. One gloved hand braced against the wall whilst his head hungslightly forward, the silver mask reflecting the harsh basement lighting.