61

61

Imogen’s POV

The first thing I felt was warmth.

Not the fever heat that had burned through my body before, but something steadier. A weight, that felt gentle, grounding and wrapped around my hand.

Slowly, I tried to open  my really heavy eyes.

Light shone through the curtains, soft and muted. My chest ached as I pulled in a slow and sharp breath, and when my vision cleared, I jolted upright with a sharp but short gasp.

For a split second, terror consumed me— had Perry brought me back? Had I only dreamed of escaping?

Then I saw him.

Silas.

His head rested on the edge of the bed, dark hair falling over his brow, his hand wrapped securely around mine as though even in sleep he refused to let go.

His chest rose and fell evenly, his hard demeanor softened in slumber, though even then he looked like a man ready to wake at the first sign of danger.

Relief flooded me so fast it stole the air from my lungs. My body eased back against the pillows, trembling, but no longer from fear.

I wasn’t with Perry.

I was here.

With him.

I froze, watching him. The man who haunted, the man people feared to whisper about in daylight, and here he was, slouched beside my bed like a guard who’d refused to leave his post.

A relief I didn’t understand washed over me.

Once, in the darkest corner of my mind, I had wished for this— wished I’d collapsed outside his door instead of Perry’s. That if I ever broke, it would be here, where his power and shadow would shield me.

And now here he was.

I sat up carefully, ignoring the sting of pain in my ribs. My hand lifted almost of its own accord, trembling as I brushed my fingers through his hair.

Just a touch.

Just to convince myself he was real.

I didn’t mean to wake him.

But his body shifted instantly, his eyes snapping open, sharp, alert.

Until he saw me.

“Go back to sleep,” he ordered, his voice rough with exhaustion. His thumb brushed over my knuckles as if to soothe me while his words demanded otherwise. “You need strength.”

But instead of obeying, a laugh slipped from my lips— small, fragile, but real. I patted the mattress beside me, raising a brow at him.

He hesitated as he looked at me with a  suspicious look. “Imogen.”

“Sit,” I whispered.

For a long beat, he didn’t move but then, reluctantly, like he was giving in to something bigger than himself, he rose from the chair and lowered himself onto the bed.

Before he could retreat, I threw my arms around him.

His body stiffened— just for a moment before he let out a breath and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, careful, protective.

My voice cracked against his chest. “I was scared… that I’d open my eyes and see…” I couldn’t finish the statement because I still couldn’t wrap my head around everything. “That I’d  still be…  I’d still be his,” my voice barely a whisper.

I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, my throat tight. “But instead… I woke up to you. And I’m glad… actually more than glad that I woke up to you.”

Tears began to gather at the corners of my eyes, but I forced a small smile. “Thank you, Silas. For not letting me wake up alone, and for keeping me.”

Something shifted in his expression something I’d never seen before. His hand lifted, brushing my hair gently from my face, his thumb grazing the side of my cheek.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” he said quietly, his voice was coarse but sounded soothing to hear. “Everything will be sorted out, I’ll see to it.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, until I tried to shift against the pillows. Pain shot through my ribs, stealing my breath.

I winced, before quickly holding my side.

His gaze sharpened, fury cutting through the calm. “I’ll make him pay for this.”

“Silas—” I began, panic fluttering in my chest.

But he cut me off, his hand gripping mine tighter. “He touched you and marked what’s mine. You’re my most prized possession.” His jaw clenched, his eyes blazing. “For that, he’ll bleed.”

My lips parted, unsure if I should argue, unsure if I even wanted to, but before I could speak, the door creaked open.

Both our heads turned.

And there she was.

The maid.

My maid?

Carrying a tray in shaking hands, her face pale but determined.

“Mrs,” she whispered, her eyes soft as they landed on me.

I blinked in shock. “You?” I looked at them both as I was in disbelief that she’d be in Silas’s place. “How…”

She hurried forward, setting the tray down by the bedside. “I had to come. I couldn’t let you suffer alone anymore, so I had to call the police but he,” she glanced nervously at Silas, “he gave me permission.”

I looked between them, my heart pounding, trying to make sense of it. “Permission?”

Silas’s right hand man appeared briefly in the doorway, confirming it all, but Silas stayed silent, his gaze unreadable.

The maid’s voice grew steadier as she went on. “He protected you. He kept you safe when no one else could. If not for him, you…” She trailed off, her eyes shining. “He deserves your trust.”

I turned back to Silas, my chest tightening. His stare didn’t waver, didn’t falter, but I could feel the storm beneath it.

Then the question slipped from me before I could stop it. “Perry. Did… did they get him?”

The maid nodded. “He was arrested. He’s gone for good.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Relief should have surged through me, but instead— something else rose.

Darker.

Hotter.

My stomach twisted, as my lips trembled, but I forced the words out. “No!” I spat out. “He can’t be gone… just like that.” I shot them a wandering gaze.

Both Silas and the maid froze, confusion flickering in their eyes.

I lifted my chin, a fire sparking deep in my chest. “I don’t want him in jail, at least not yet.”

Silas’s gaze sharpened, his voice a low growl. “You’d rather he walk free after what he’s done to you?”

I shook my head, my hands curling into fists against the sheets. “Yes. I want him out,”

Silas jolted up in anger as he didn’t expect me to actually want him out after everything but I couldn’t let him go so easily.

“You… you want him out? Are you that stuck up on him that you can’t let him go?” He questioned but his voice had become void of warmth.

I tried to stand up but the pain was unbearable that I fell back to the bed— the man I thought didn’t care was by my side in a second. His hand steadied me but I still needed to stand up.

“You’re working yourself out cause of that prick? He almost had you killed,” his voice was deep but soft and low.

“No, I am not going back to him…” I raised my head so my eyes could meet his gaze. His eyes were softer for someone who put up a tough look.

“I want him to have a false sense of happiness, that he’s winning and when he is about to get the icing on the cake— I will be there to ruin everything he has ever worked for. I want to break him, I want to watch him suffer then he would beg for death but I will make sure he knows that it will never come.” My voice trembled, but the conviction in it was unshakable. “After I have done all of these, only then— only then I will let him have peace in jail.”

Silas stared at me, stunned. Then slowly… a smile— dark, dangerous, proud curved his lips.