Chapter 9

I smoothed out the new blankets. "I'm sorry," I told him. "As soon as Kaelen leaves, I'll clear out the other room for you. At least it's warm out right now, so the floor shouldn't be too bad. Plus, you're a werewolf, so I figured..."

I turned around and stopped short. Silas was hovering by the door, wringing his hands. His ears were pinned back and drooping heavily.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked. "Do you not want the floor? You can take the bed, it's fine. I'll take the floor."

Now his tail was tucked, too. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I stared at him, completely lost. "No, of course not. You've been totally fine."

Werewolves were massive, and when Silas dropped heavily to his knees, the tiny room suddenly felt suffocatingly small. Bathed in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, his rugged face looked incredibly pitiful. He shuffled forward on his knees and wrapped his thick arms around my legs, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Clara, whatever I messed up, I'll fix it," he pleaded. "Please don't make me sleep alone. I swear, they taught me how to serve humans at the Therian Registry..."

Heat flooded my cheeks as it finally clicked. Was he crying because I was making him sleep in a separate bed? Without thinking, I reached down and wiped a tear away with my thumb.

Silas practically melted into my touch, nuzzling his rough cheek against my palm. "Can I?" he whispered.

He was a terrifying apex predator, but here he was, crying in completely genuine distress.

"We just met," I stammered. "I just... I didn't think you'd even want to."

Kaelen definitely hadn't. He had made it perfectly clear he would rather drop dead than touch some "inferior human."

Silas pressed hot, wet kisses into the center of my hand. "I want to. Clara, I want to give you a child. I want to stay right by your side and protect you both for the rest of my life. I'm just an unwanted, inferior wolf. You're the only person who has actually wanted me. I really like you. I'm nothing like that fox out there. I am entirely devoted to you."

My knees gave out, and I sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress. Silas's fever-hot hands settled onto my calves. Still crying, he pushed himself up, resting one knee on the bed beside me, and pulled his shirt over his head. His chest was corded with firm, sculpted muscle.

"Please take pity on me," he begged softly. "Just give me a chance."

My brain simply stopped working. Hanging onto my last shred of sanity, I slowly nodded.

***

I woke up in a hazy fog to the sound of rain lashing against the window. No wonder the room felt so suffocatingly hot and humid. I reached out to switch off the bedside lamp, but Silas pulled me back.

"Someone's knocking," I rasped, my throat dry. "There's someone out there. Stop."

The wet kisses trailing down my neck paused, only to hover over my lips. "Are you still thinking about him?" he murmured. "You like him better, don't you?"

I felt totally trapped. "I don't."

"Then who do you like more?"

"I like you! I like you, okay?"

The second the words left my mouth, the incessant knocking stopped. Looking entirely satisfied, Silas finally reached over and flicked off the light.