I knew exactly what he meant.
Silas stepped closer.
“Alright,” he said. “Lesson one. Restraints.”
Before I could react, his hand closed around my wrists, lifting them gently but firmly, turning them upward to expose the soft, vulnerable flesh on the inside.
The skin there was so thin that my veins were visible beneath it, cobalt spiderwebs weaving in every direction.
“There are a lot of ways to restrain someone,” he said, inspecting me. “And just as many tools to do it. Zip ties, rope, duct tape. Sometimes you improvise with whatever’s available.”
As he spoke, he moved back to the tray, selecting a few zip ties before returning to me.
“Positions matter too,” he continued, his tone instructional. “Behind the back. Secured to a chair. Hog-tied. Suspended if need be.”
He gathered my wrists again, guiding them behind my back before slipping the zip tie around them and tightening it just enough to hold me without cutting off my blood flow.
“It’s not just about physical control,” he went on. “The way you restrain someone can unsettle themmentally,before you even start. Make them uncomfortable. Make them think.”
He adjusted the placement of the zip tie slightly, tightening it more.
“You have to read the subject,” he finished.
His fingers moved slowly along my arms, tracing upward until they reached my neck, the touch light but deliberate. He leaned in close, his voice low against my ear as he continued.
“Take you, for example. You flinch inward when you’re touched. You try to make yourself smaller, by curling inward and hiding.”
His hand slid back down, firmer now as he tightened the restraint fully, pulling my arms taunt behind my back. The position forced my shoulders apart, lifting my chest, leaving me open and vulnerable.
“So I don’t let you,” he said evenly. “I keep your arms secured behind you, hold you upright, exposed. You can’t retreat like this. You can’t comfort yourself by curling inward.”
A shiver moved through me as the reality of my position settled in.
He was right.
Silas lowered himself into a crouch in front of me, bringing us eye level.
His intense, ice blue eyes seemed to sparkle as they met mine.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “Your turn.”
A beat passed.
“How would you restrain me, Lena?”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I studied him the way he had studied me, letting my eyes trace over him, taking in the way he held himself, the way he moved, the way control only seemed to live at surface level.
Silas didn’t rush me, remaining crouched in front of me, hisgaze expectant.
“Well… you’re a lot bigger and stronger than me,” I started. “So whatever I use has to hold. If you get loose, I don’t stand a chance.”
A faint smile touched his expression.
“Okay,” he said. “What else? It’s not just physical. Remember that.”
I nodded, my mind shifting, adjusting.
“You like control,” I said. “You rely on it.”
