The Alpha's Second Chance

Chapter 8- Taken

Lyra POV

I stand frozen in front of Silas, not really sure how to react. My sweater is now heavy with the remnants of my steaming hot coffee. While the coffee from here is not normally this hot, I prefer to have a really hot coffee to wrap my hands around on the journey home, feeling the heat through my gloves, so I always make my coffee right at the end and make it hotter than normal. But this has backfired on me tonight.

The pain was sharp, but the shock of seeing him here was a different kind of burn entirely. Silas doesn't recoil from the mess; he doesn't even look at his own coat, which was also covered in hot coffee. He just holds my arms, his touch steadying and firm.

"I—I'm so sorry," I stammer, my breath hitching as I look up into those dark, bottomless eyes. "I wasn't looking. I'll... I'll go get some napkins."

"Stay still, Lyra," he murmurs. His voice isn't angry; it is smooth and carries with it a strange warmth that momentarily clouds my panic. He reaches into his pocket and produces a white handkerchief, stepping into my personal space until I am forced to lean against the glass door. "You’re trembling. And that's going to blister if you don't get out of those clothes."

He begins to dab at the collar of my sweater with a clinical, almost gentle focus. The proximity is overwhelming. I can smell him—sandalwood and cold rain. How does he know my name? The thought flickers in my mind, but quickly disappears when his hand touches me, and I slightly feel some sparks.

"I'm fine," I lie, my voice cracking. "I just need to go home. My parents are waiting for me, and—"

"You’re not fine," he interrupts softly, finally meeting my gaze. A small, charming smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And I won’t have it on my conscience that I ran into a local girl and left her to walk home in the cold with a burn. It was my fault for pushing the door so forcefully."

He steps back just an inch, gesturing toward the sleek black sedan idling at the curb. "Come with me. My estate is only ten minutes away. We have an on-call doctor, and more importantly, some dry clothes. It's the least I can do to make up for my clumsiness."

"I really shouldn't," I whisper, though the sheer gravity of his presence was already pulling me toward the car, but my common sense is telling me to run and never look back.

"Lyra," he says, his tone dropping to something more intimate, more persuasive. "Look at the street. It’s dark, it’s freezing, and you’re soaked. I’m offering you a warm car and a bit of first aid. Surely I don't look that much like a villain? Jax, Eli."

As if on cue, two shadows behind him shifted. Two men—Eli and Jax—step into the light of the streetlamp. They don't smile. They don't move. They simply wait.

The charm didn't disappear, but it sharpened. Silas reaches out, his hand hovering near the small of my back. "Let’s not keep the heater waiting."

That was when the dread truly sank in. He isn't just asking; he is taking control, and I have no way out. With a shaky nod, I let him lead me toward the open door of the sedan.

The weight of the silence following his words is deafening. Silas doesn't move immediately; he seems to savor the surrender, his thumb tracing a slow, agonizing circle over the back of my hand.

"My phone," I blurt out, my voice trembling. "I have to tell them. My parents. I need to text them so they don't... so they don't call the police."

I am grasping at straws, trying to maintain the facade even as it turns to ash. I need to see if he really knew who I was, or if there was still a sliver of my private life he hadn't touched.

Silas steps back just enough to let me reach into my pocket, though Eli and Jax don't budge an inch.

"By all means," Silas says, his voice smooth as silk. "I wouldn't want to cause any unnecessary alarm."

With shaking fingers, I pull out my phone. The screen is cracked, a spiderweb of glass over the wallpaper—a photo of the old house I had lived in until I was seven.

I open my messages and pull up the contact labeled Mom & Dad, which was really to a burner phone I kept for instances like this, because normally when seeing that I am messaging a contact called Mum & Dad, the other person leaves me alone. But looking at Silas, I can see that he is calling my bluff. My heart feels like a trapped bird beating against my sternum. I type with a frantic speed:

Lyra: Hey, I'm going to be late. Going to a friend's place for a bit. Don't wait up for me.

I hit send. I stared at the screen, my vision blurring.

Then, the phone buzzed.

I nearly drop it. A gray bubble appeared on the screen. A single word popped up.

Mom & Dad: Okay.

I look up at Silas, my face pale. He is watching me with a look of terrifyingly calm satisfaction. He doesn't even have to say it. He has hijacked my lie before I’d even told it- there never should have been an answer as the phone was hidden at my home. So either the message had been intercepted, or someone had managed to get hold of my burner phone.

"Satisfied?" he asks, his voice a low purr.

"How..." I whisper, the words dying in my throat.

"I told you, Lyra," he says, stepping closer until the heat from his body mocked the chill in my bones. "I don't like losing things. And I’m very thorough when I go looking for them."

He reaches out and takes the phone from my numb fingers, sliding it into his own pocket. The gesture was so casual, so final, that it broke the last of my resolve. He isn't just taking me to his estate; he is erasing the path back to my old life.

What did I do? Why did I go to his estate last time? i***t! Runs through my mind as I try to make sense of the situation I have just found myself in.

Jax steps forward, then opens the door of the black sedan. The interior is a cavern of dark leather and shadows, smelling of expense and power.

"Inside," Silas commands. It isn't a request this time.

I move toward the car, my legs feeling like lead. As I slide into the backseat, the plush leather feels like a trap. Silas climbs in beside me, his presence radiating a predatory heat that makes the small space feel even smaller yet makes me want to feel safe. The door clicks shut with a heavy, pressurized thud, sealing out the sounds of the town.

As the car pulled away from the curb, I looked out the window at the cafe. It looks so small, so ordinary. My apron is still draped over the counter inside, so normal that I wonder if I will be able to return to it after tonight.

"You're very quiet, Lyra," Silas remarks, his eyes reflecting the passing streetlights. "Don't be sullen. You’re exactly where you were always meant to be."

He reaches over, his hand finding mine in the darkness of the backseat, pinning my fingers to the leather. I don't pull away. I can't. I just watched the town disappear into the night, wondering if I will ever see the sun from the outside of those estate gates again.

The car glides away from the curb, the engine barely a whisper against the heavy silence of the cabin. Outside, the familiar sights of the town—the flickering neon sign of the hardware store, the darkened windows of the florist—begin to blur into streaks of gray and amber.

I sit as far into the corner of the leather seat as possible, my wet sweater clinging to my skin. The burn from the coffee had settled into a dull, pulsing throb, but it is nothing compared to the cold dread settling in my chest.

"You’re freezing," Silas says. It isn't an observation of concern; it was a statement of fact, as if he were cataloging my weaknesses.

He doesn't wait for a response. He leans forward, tapping the glass partition. "Jax, turn the heat up. Our guest is shivering."

"Yes, sir," comes the muffled reply from the front.

A moment later, a blast of warm air hit my legs, but I didn't feel any warmer. Silas reaches across the seat, his hand moving toward me. I flinch, pressing my head back against the window, but he only reaches for the seatbelt, pulling it across my lap and clicking it into place. His knuckles brush against my hip, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from shaking visibly.

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of the tires. "I didn't take anything from your estate. I just... I just wanted to see. I didn't think anyone would care about a girl looking around. I am so sorry, sir."

Silas leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other. The movement was graceful, dangerous. "It isn't about what you did, Lyra. It’s about the fact that you thought you could enter my world and leave it without my permission. You put yourself in my life, and everything that crosses that line becomes mine."