The Alpha's Second Chance

Chapter 9- The Room

Lyra POV

The air in the car could be broken with a knife; it is just that thick between us. Noone said anything for minutes, and honestly? I hope that it stays this way, yet the world seems to have something against me as the silence is soon broken.

"You came onto my estate without an invitation, then you ran instead of talking to me and facing the consequences," Silas says, his words feeling harsher after the silence being broken.

I look down, rubbing my hands and shifting in the seat uncomfortably. "Sorry," I mumble.

"Huh?" Silas asks.

I take a deep breath, "Sorry. I am really sorry about that day, I mean, I had my reasons, but they just sound.... stupid now." I whisper the last part.

"You had your reasons? What are they?" He asks, his voice sounds like he is genuinely curious.

"I..."

"I don't like people who stutter," Silas says, taking a deep whiff of the air, aiming his nose towards me. This makes me feel uncomforable but I refuse to back down.

"I wanted to know if you were one of the men who had been plaguing me in my nightmares," I say, squaring my shoulders.

I jump when a loud, gruff laugh comes from the driver's seat. This laugh is genuine, and I watch as the driver's shoulders move in time with the laughter.

I take a quick side glance and see Silas growing red while also trying to hide a laugh of his own.

"A nightmare?" He asks me, a slight chuckle in his voice.

"It started two weeks ago. I dreamed that I had witnessed someone being killed by a man and a woman. After talking to others, someone asked if you had been one of the men in the nightmares, and suddenly the thought stuck. So, after work, I decided to see if I could see you and find out the answer."

"What was the answer?" Silas asks, a slight edge now in his voice.

"You were, you were the one being killed," I said the last part quietly, but from Silas' slight flinching at my words, it is clear that he had heard them.

"I see. So you were there that day." He whispers, making me look at him questioningly, but he does not explain.

I looked out the window again. We were leaving the town limits now. The streetlights were becoming sparse, replaced by the towering, dense trees that lined the road leading to the Vane estate. This was the point of no return.

"The message," I said suddenly, turning back to him and breaking the silence again. "Who really sent it? How did you..."

"Technology is a fragile thing, Lyra," he interrupted smoothly. "Numbers can be mirrored. Signals can be redirected. I simply ensured that your fake defence was gone."

The cruelty and thoroughness of it were breathtaking. Silas had taken every precaution to make sure that I ended up with him tonight. Could he have also caused the encounter at the cafe? Clever but scary.

"You're cold and calculating," I mumble.

"Thank you," Silas responds, not even pretending to be insulted, which just angered me more, while also making me feel more scared at the same time.

The car slowed as we approached the massive wrought-iron gates of the estate. They swung open silently, making me sad as I kind of wanted to hear them groan like in horror films, and we rolled onto the gravel drive. A house loomed in the distance—it looks normal, yet I have that uneasy feeling coming back again, and it is louder again.

"Welcome home, Lyra," he says as the car comes to a final, jolting stop in front of the house.

Before I can answer, the car door is opened by the man I now know is named Jax.

The transition from the silent, pressurized heat of the sedan to the biting night air made me gasp, the still-damp fabric of my sweater clinging to my skin like a cold shroud.

Silas does not let go of my hand; instead, he steps out and pulls me over to his side of the car with each movement. Once we are out of the car, his grip on my hand tightens slightly as if telling me that there is no way for me to get away. He guides me into the house, with Jax and Eli following closely behind us. I feel less like a guest and more like a prisoner, although I guess that may be technically what I am right now.

The house is huge on the inside. As soon as the door opens, I am greeted with the smell of fresh food being cooked, the sound of laughter in the kitchen and the hallway looks really inviting and friendly. It is nothing like what I expected to walk into.

Silas does not stop, but he does slow down to let me enjoy the sights as we travel through the hallway, up two flights of stairs and along the hallway to a room right near the end.

When we reach the door, Silas opens it and walks inside, dragging me in behind him. He closes the door, looks around and then drags me over to the bed and pushes me down onto it, my feet dangle over the edge as I sit there just looking around the spacious room. The size is about as big as my apartment, and this thought creates a slightly sad thought in my heart.

"The heating is on." Silas says.

I nod my head, wrapping my arms around myself to try to hide my coffee-stained clothes and hoping that they do not ruin the crisp, clean bed.

Silas steps forward, reaches out and his fingers brush the wet fabric near my collarbone where the skin is already feeling hot and tender. His eyes darken at the sight and he lets out a deep, angry sigh which has me wanting to shrink in on myself, but I refuse to let this man see any weakness.

I watch as Silas calms himself, withdraws his hand but then his eyes seem to cloud over, almost as if some sort of film is covering them. I watch in fascination as his eyes stop seeing, his expression goes neutral and his whole body seems to relax while also going into a heightened state at the same time.

The silence is suffocating. I cannot move, trapped by the sheer, magnetic pull of his stare. It feels like he is looking deep into my soul, and it really unnerves me.

A sharp, rhythmic knock at the door breaks the spell.

"Enter," Silas says, his voice instantly snapping back to its cold, commanding edge, though he doesn't move away from me immediately.

A man in a crisp white lab coat steps in, carrying a leather medical bag. He has the weary, efficient look of a man who was used to being summoned to this estate at odd hours.

"Dr. Aris," Silas says, finally stepping back to give the man room, though his gaze remains anchored on me. "She has a thermal burn on her chest. Scalding liquid. Clean it, treat it, and ensure there will be no scarring. I want her skin as it was before this evening."

"Of course, Mr. Vine," the doctor murmurs, already snapping on a pair of latex gloves. He gestures toward a chair near the window. "If you'll sit, Miss?"

I move toward the chair as if on autopiolt, hating hwo my body is reacting to others commands right now. As the doctor begins to lay out his ointments and gauze, I look up. Silas hasn't left. He stands by the door, his arms crossed, watching the doctor's every move with a hawk-like vigilance.

"You can go, Mr. Vane," I whisper, my voice trembling as the doctor reached for the hem of my sweater to inspect the wound. "I can handle this."

"I'm sure you can," Silas replies, his eyes narrowing as he watches the doctor apply a cooling antiseptic to my skin. "But I prefer to oversee my investments personally. Do your work, Doctor. I’ll be here."

The doctor works in silence, the only sound of the wind outside and the soft clinking of medical instruments. I feel like a prize horse being groomed under the watchful eye of its owner instead of a human being. Silas’s gaze never wavers, and I know then that there will be no privacy in this house—not as long as I carry his interest.