Chapter 4: The Hunger in the Shadows (Silas's POV)
I watched her through the security monitors in my study.
Seraphina was standing in the middle of the 'Blue Suite,' staring at the midnight-silk gown I had chosen for her. She didn't look like a victim. She looked like a general inspecting a battlefield. She picked up the dress, her fingers tracing the fine lace, and for a second, her expression softened into something that looked dangerously like longing.
I leaned back in my chair, the amber liquid in my glass forgotten. I had spent two hundred million to pull her out of that den of wolves, but I wasn't a savior. I was just a different kind of wolf.
My phone buzzed. A text from my head of security: The Thorne creditors are silenced. The girl is officially yours.
Mine.
The word tasted like wine and blood. I had been watching her for years—long before her father's empire began to crumble. I had watched her at galas, at charity events, always the untouchable Thorne princess. And now, she was in my house.
Twenty minutes later, the dining room doors opened.
The silk gown fit her like a second skin, the deep navy making her eyes look like stormy seas. She walked to the table and sat down across from me, her movements fluid and confident.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, glancing at the spread of wagyu and vintage wine. "I told the chef I'm allergic to boring men. He seemed concerned for your health."
I poured a glass of wine, my eyes locked on hers. I didn't smile. A man like me didn't smile; we conquered. "The chef does what I tell him to do, Seraphina. Just like everyone else in this house. You'll find that my 'health' is the only thing keeping your world from collapsing."
I stood up, walking around the long table. She didn't move as I stopped behind her chair. I leaned down, my hands resting on her shoulders, my lips inches from the sensitive shell of her ear.
"Eat, Seraphina," I rasped. "You're going to need your strength for the life I've planned for you."