Alaric did not stop. The moment Silas answered him, something in him gave way. Not slowly. Not in parts. All at once. Like something that had been quiet for too long suddenly refusing to stay quiet anymore.
He moved over him at once, pressing him down in a single smooth motion. His hold was strong. Controlled, but heavy enough to leave no space between them. No room to think, no room to pull back, no space left for hesitation.
Silas felt it at once, the weight and the heat. The force behind every movement settled over him, and for a second, his breath caught sharply, not from fear. From how strong it was, how real it was, how close it felt, like there was nothing separating them anymore.
He had faced men stronger than him, fought without hesitation, walked into rooms knowing he might not walk out. He had never backed down from anything, but this was different. Not because it was dangerous, because it was not. Not because he was afraid, because he was not that either.
