Chapter 9 Nine

Before she could react, his arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer. Her breath caught but she didn't move.

"Or... am I dreaming?" he whispered.

Elara didn't give herself time to think about it.

Thinking was dangerous and thinking meant remembering.

And remembering right now would be a mistake.

"The passcode," she repeated, more firmly this time.

He hummed faintly, his head dropping briefly against her shoulder.

"I missed you..." He mumbled, the words barely coherent.

Her expression hardened slightly. He's completely out of it.

"Silas," she pressed again. There's no point speaking to him in this state, she should hurriedly take him to her room.

As she turned away heading towards her own private space, she heard;

"1812," he said faintly forcing himself to breathe as if regaining consciousness for a brief moment.

"That's... the code..."

His grip loosened slightly as his head tilted, voice fading.

"1812..."

The numbers lingered in the air like something fragile. 1812

"It was that day...Elara..." He whispered, "You were eighteen...and I was twelve years old...do you remember?"

Elara didn't give time to think about what he said, that's murder on her side. She didn't waste another second as she shifted her weight slightly, keeping Silas steady against her as she reached for the keypad. Her fingers moved quickly, pressing into the cold. A soft click followed and the door unlocked.

She pushed it open with her shoulder, guiding Silas inside before kicking the door shut behind them.

The room was dimly lit, clean, precise, everything in its place. It felt like him, smelt like him, a man's room smelt so pretty.

She barely made it two steps in before his weight gave out again.

"Silas-"

He sagged against her, his grip tightening weakly around her waist as if she was the only thing holding him together.

"Don't..." he murmured, his voice barely there. "Don't let go..."

She was increasingly getting annoyed, dangerous and she ignored it as she tried to push towards the bed.

"You're not in a position to make requests," she said, her tone firm, though quieter now. She guided him towards the bed, her pheromones barely anchoring her strength as it seemed to be draining out of her, his omega pheromones had seeped into hers so much that she was on the verge of losing control.

But she managed, lowering him down carefully. The moment his back hit the mattress, he exhaled sharply, as the contact grounded him, if only a little. She looked at his shoes and began to take them off.

But it didn't last before his body tensed again almost immediately, a low, strained sound slipping past his lips as his hands fisted into the sheets.

"Hot..." he breathed. "It's too much..."

Elara stood there for a second, watching and assessing him. Her own breath hitching...she could feel the pull in between her legs. Her pheromones are slowly turning against her.

She looked away and when she looked back, he was already moving, tearing at himself like he was trying to escape his own skin. His bow tie came loose, discarded. Buttons followed, one after another, until his shirt fell open.

Don't go there, she turned away slightly, dragging a hand through her short hair, trying to think past the scent that was still wrapping around her like a trap. Or the exposure of skin in plain sight.

Focus.

"What did they give you?" she asked, her voice sharper now as she looked back at him. She proceeded towards his drawer, to find anything...just any drug that could quell him.

"Silas."

That got something.

His gaze shifted, slowly finding her again. Locking onto her like instinct instead of thought.

"You're here..." he whispered.

Not answering the question, she wasn't even trying to, she was trying to save them both from something that's about to happen if not curbed. Her irritation grew as she ransacked through and increasingly found nothing.

She turned to him, her own sweat detailing how much wrong has started to take hold of her, "Listen to me," she said, her voice dropping, more controlled now. "You need to tell me where your suppressants are. My pheromones can't help you anymore, not now."

"Why? They helped twelve years ago..." He said his lips parted slightly. "Do it as you did it last time, make it go away..." He said, while her eyes trailed the line on his neck, following the sweat that kept soaking into his chest and straight down to his abs.

Her brows drew together sharply, her breathing cutting.

"Your suppressants..." she insisted trying to create a distance but his hand whipped forward and gripped hers, pulling her towards himself, she landed on his body before she could even blink.

She seized.

Silas's grip tightened instinctively around her wrist, like he was afraid she would disappear if he let go. The heat coming off his body was suffocating now, burning through the thin space between them.

"Elara..." he breathed, her name rough against his lips.

It wasn't just the way he said it. It was how his body reacted to her. Like she was the answer to something he couldn't fight anymore.

Her jaw clenched, "Let go."

But he didn't budge. Worse, she wasn't moving either.

Their pheromones had tangled somewhere between them, thick and volatile, feeding off each other in a way that made the air feel too tight, too charged to breathe.

Her Alpha roared beneath her skin, feral, aggressive, fighting to take over what little control she had left.

This wasn't good, it was dangerous. She could feel herself slipping. Melting into his grasp instead of resisting it.

Her breath hitched.

"No." Elara shook her head sharply, as she could physically throw the feeling off, and grabbed his wrist, trying to pry his hand away from her.

"Let go," she repeated, more forcefully this time.

But Silas, who could barely stand minutes ago, didn't move, even an inch. His grip held unyieldingly firm.

Her eyes flickered, something unsettled flashing through them.

"You heard me," she started, her voice tightening as she pulled harder, her strength pressing in now. "I said let..."

She didn't finish before his lips crashed into hers.