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Vae’s entire body is rigid, fists clenched at his sides. I can practically see his desire to lunge across the table and kill me.
Cage straightens like a puppet whose strings were just yanked. His shoulders snap back. His eyes widen with glee. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, glancing between Vaelenor and me with a psychotic look of anticipation.
But it’s Silas who moves.
The Alpha tosses down the bacon he’s been eating and stands. Three large steps close the distance between us, so fast I don’t even see him move. By the time I’ve registered that he used his vampire speed to reach me, it’s too late to run.
Quick as a striking snake, his hand whips out, and his fingers wrap around my jaw. He squeezes.
I hear the grind of bone against bone a moment before…
Pain.
Blinding, crushing pain explodes through my jaw and winds through my neck and skull. I scream, the sound high and sharp and desperate. Tears fall, tracking down my cheeks, and over his calloused, rough fingers.
He doesn’t loosen his grip. He wrenches my head to the side, forcing me to meet his eyes. They’re fiery with feral rage. I instantly understand that this is Silas showing restraint. This is controlled violence, born of bone-deep hatred and certainty in his righteousness.
“Apparently, we forgot a few rules.” He hisses. “You don’t discuss Caelan with anyone. You don’t say his name. You don’t even let your fucking thoughts wander in his direction.”
Each word is forced through clenched teeth. His breath is hot against the wet tear tracks on my cheek.
My hands fly up on instinct. Images of my father’s face overlap with Silas’s. Flashbacks of his hand wrapped around my neck days ago warp my already exhausted mind.
I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not.
What’s now and what’s then.
I struggle to pry his—my father’s? Silas’s?—fingers off of my flesh, but just like before, he refuses to budge.
“You aren’t here to ask us questions, little liar. You’re here to answer them. A task you’ve already failed at spectacularly.”
He squeezes harder. I whine in pain, the pathetic sound announces my distress to the entire room.
“Caelan is not your concern. You will never mention him again.”
His fingers dig in harder, gripping, bruising.
Black spots dance through my vision. Silas’s face twists. Morphs.
“Do I make myself totally fucking clear?”
“I will bleed you dry until nothing remains of you but regret.”
I try to nod, but I can’t move. His grip has my head locked in place, the pain so blinding I can’t think through it.
“I said—” his voice drops to a growl.
My father looms over me, eyes full of hate.
The face bleeds back to Silas’s face…
But the eyes are the same.
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-yes.”
My words are mangled. Barely recognizable.
