Page 105 of Yours on the Canvas

As if feeling the weight of my stare, Silas turns his head. His dark eyes lock instantly onto mine across the short distance of the deck, the laughter fading from his face, replaced by that quiet, fierce devotion that belongs entirely to me. He doesn’t say anything to the guys; he just pushes away from the counter, walks over, and sits down right beside me on the step.

His warm shoulder presses against mine, and his hand finds my knee beneath the blanket, his thumb tracing a slow, grounding circle against my skin.

“Penny for them, dove,” Silas murmurs softly, his eyes searching my face with endless care.

I lean my head against his shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering breath as I watch Hale score another point against Callan in the grass.

“Just thinking about my mom,” I whisper, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “She would have loved this.”

Silas’s arm wraps tighter around me, pulling me closer until I am entirely enveloped in his heat.

“She would have loved you,” I add, looking up into his eyes.

Silas lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I wish I could have met her.”

“Me too.” I say, laying my head on his shoulder, looking back out over the lawn.

I watch the smoke drift up toward the sky, watching the men who have become my family more than blood ever was. The ghost of my mother’s smile still lingers in my mind, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a memory of a life stolen . It feels like a promise.

I am safe. I’m loved. And I’m home.

* * *

Later that night, the house finally settles into a peacefulness. Everything from the afternoon’s chaos has been cleared away, and Hale has long since gone over to a friend’s house for a sleepover, leaving just the core of us, the men who had bled and burned a path across borders to pull me back from the dark.

We are all scattered around the kitchen and living area as the evening winds down, the formal edge of the party completely dissolved into a loose, comfortable haze. But as the noise began to wear thin, a heavy weight starts pressing against my chest again, the phantom shadows, the lingering ghosts of that Seattle cellar. Needing air, I slip quietly away from the group, sliding open the back glass door and stepping out onto the porch.

The night air carries the salty scent of the ocean, rolling in over the back lawn and it cools the heat of my skin. I lean my forearms against the wooden railing, staring out into the dark expanse of the water where the moonlight shatters into jagged, silver streaks across the water.

A moment later, the soft click of the door tells me I’m not alone. Silas.

Footsteps pad quietly across the boards, and then he’s there. He doesn’t say anything right away. He just steps up close behind me, his strong arms sliding securely around my waist, pulling me gently back until my back rests flush against his chest. A low, grounding sigh escapes him as he buries his face in the crook of my neck, his lips brushing softly against my sensitive skin.

“Cold?” he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rumble that vibrates straight through my ribs.

“Never,” I whisper, leaning back into him, letting his solid weight anchor me entirely. “Just watching the water.”

Silas tightens his grip, his arms locking securely around me, the gold band on his pinkie finger presses cool against my ribs, my ring, a permanent reminder of the bond we share.

We stand there together in the quiet dark, the distant hum of the house fading into nothing behind us. For months, the only water I saw was the damp, rotting concrete of a tomb, and the only sound was the mocking echo of a cage door locking shut. Now, the night feels vast, open, and entirely harmless.

My fingers reach down, sliding over his forearm to lace our fingers together.

“Penny?” he asks softly, a fond smile ghosting over his lips against my skin.

“Just thinking about how far away Seattle feels,” I murmur, closing my eyes and breathing him in, pine, charcoal, and the undeniable scent of home. “Thinking about how quiet the dark is now.”

Silas nips at my skin and then pulls the skin of my neck into his mouth, sucking it lightly, his arms pulling me tighter still, erasing every remaining inch of distance between us.

“It’s going to stay quiet, Dove,” he promises, the fierce devotion in his tone wrapping around my soul like armour. “I told you. I burned that world down so you’d never have to look back at it.”

I turn my head slightly, tilting my chin up so his lips meet mine in a slow kiss that tastes like absolute peace. I turn into him eagerly, pressing closer as his hands slide down my waist, the crisp sound of my zipper ringing out in the quiet night air.

He lifts me, sitting me on the railing, and I wrap my legs around his waist, securing him to me. His hand pulls my cock free, stroking me with a slow rhythm that makes my head fall onto his shoulder. His hand wraps tightly around my dick, and I feel the friction building, sweet and overwhelming, and I chase his touch with a desperate, hungry groan, my hips moving instinctively to meet his.

Kissing and nipping at his jaw, I make my way slowly back to his lips. Licking along the seam, he gives me entrance, and I taste him. My mouth moves with his, slow and deep, anchored by the thick heat between us. I pull back for a second, looking up at him. His lips are swollen and wet, his dark eyes heavy, and his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

“God, you’re perfect…” he murmurs against my lips.