Page 185 of Corrupted Saint
It is a portrait of a wolf lying down in a field of snow, with a small bird nesting between its paws. The wolf’s teeth are bared at the world, but its eyes are soft, fixed on the bird.
"Thank you," I say.
I feel a presence at my side.
Silas.
He slides his arm around my waist. The heat of his hand seeps through the silk of my dress, grounding me instantly.
"Ready to go?" he murmurs.
"We just got here," I tease.
"I’ve been here ten minutes and I’ve already threatened three people with my eyes," he says. "I’m bored. I want to take you home."
I look up at him. The scar on his eyebrow has faded to a thin white line, but the intensity in his blue eyes hasn't dimmed a fraction. He is still the predator who snatched me from my life. He is still the monster who chained me to a bed.
And I love him with a ferocity that terrifies me.
"Home," I repeat.
The word used to mean a cramped apartment in the Lower East Side. Then it meant a prison cell in the Hamptons.
Now, it means him.
"Okay," I say. "Let’s go."
We leave the party. We leave the adoration and the envy. We walk out to the waiting car, flanked by Luca and a team of guards.
As Silas helps me into the car, his hand brushes my ankle. He fingers the tracker for a split second—a subconscious check.Still there. Still mine.
I cover his hand with mine.
"I’m not going anywhere, Silas," I whisper.
He looks at me. The streetlights reflect in his eyes, making them look like molten silver.
"I know," he says. "But I like checking the lock."
He kisses my palm.
"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Vane."
"Happy anniversary, King."
The door closes, sealing us in the quiet dark of the car. The city rolls past, a blur of lights we no longer need to watch.
We are the darkness. And we have finally found our light.
THE END
