Page 111 of Vows of Silence

Of course he had.

Of course Silas Falcone, a man who had cameras in my bedroom, guards around his property, surveillance on my family home and enough control issues to terrify a therapist, had not simply trusted locked doors and intimidation to keep me. Of course he had made sure that no matter where I went, no matter how far I ran, no matter how clever or brave or desperate I thought I was being, he would always be able to find me.

He didn't just imprison me. He carried the prison around inside me.

Luca:He’ll always find you.

As soon as I finished reading the words, the whistling stopped, and the cold hands of dread settled around my heart.

Because the whistling had meant distance. It had meant he was somewhere behind me, somewhere in the trees, close but not close enough. The silence meant something else entirely. It meant the game had changed. It meant I had reached the part where Silas stopped amusing himself and reminded me exactly who had been in control from the beginning.

I lifted my head slowly, scanning the trees around me, but the forest had become a maze of shadows and branches and movement that wasn’t movement at all. Every trunk looked like it could hide him. Every whisper of wind sounded like his breathing. My own heartbeat was so loud I could barely hear anything beyond it.

Then a gloved hand closed around the back of my neck.

His fingers settled exactly where mine had been moments before, right over the place I now knew he had marked me, and the possessive certainty of that touch stole whatever breath I had left. He didn’t squeeze, but he didn’t need to. The message was there in the placement alone.

Found you.

Slowly, I looked over my shoulder.

Silas stood behind me in the trees, the silver mask covering his face, the dark smear of blood still visible along the lower edge. He looked utterly calm. If anything, there was something almost pleased in the way he stared down at me, as though he had enjoyed every second of watching me run myself into exhaustion only to end up exactly where he had known I would.

A sick, furious laugh built in my chest, but it never made it out. Silas’s grip tightened by the smallest amount, and every thought I had scattered.

“You put something in me,” I whispered.

He said nothing.

Of course he said nothing.

I turned as much as his hold allowed, forcing myself to face him properly. “You put a tracker in my neck.”

The tilt of his head was almost curious, as though he was waiting to see what I would do with the information now that I finally had it. No denial. No explanation. No apology. Just Silas watching me with that infuriating stillness, letting me piece together the full shape of his betrayal on my own because apparently even his cruelty came with homework.

Rage flickered through me then, hot enough to burn through some of the fear.

“You let me run,” I said, my voice shaking despite every effort to keep it steady. “You knew where I was the entire time, and you let me think I had a chance.”

His thumb stroked once over the side of my neck.

Gentle.

Possessive.

Cruel.

Because this was not punishment. Not yet. This was him reminding me that the chase had been a gift. A privilege. A small, temporary freedom he had allowed because he knew he could take it back whenever he wanted.

“You’re sick,” I breathed.

His eyes darkened behind the mask.

For one foolish second, I thought I had finally managed to hurt him. Then his gaze dropped to my mouth, and I realised with a fresh wave of horror that I had not hurt him at all.

I had challenged him.

And Silas Falcone liked challenges.