Silvia's POV
I was held back by a group of imposing figures, my teeth grinding together as I snarled at him, my chest burning with an uncontrollable rage. It felt like a fire igniting within me, one I had never felt before, an intoxicating rush of power that I didn't want to stop.
"Chain her to the bed," he commanded, his voice cold and unyielding. The words exploded in my mind like a grenade, fueling my fury. I thrashed against their grip, desperate to break free and exact my revenge.
"Why don't you let me go so I can beat you like a man?" I spat, but he merely ignored me, dismissing my anger as if I were just a petulant puppy barking at his heels.
The people restraining me struggled to keep me still enough to cuff me to the bed. I broke free for a brief moment, lunging at him, ready to strike—this time aiming for a vulnerable spot.
"STOP!!!" The command thundered through the room, a voice laden with authority that made everyone freeze. I could almost hear the collective inhale, the sharp intake of breath as they all held their fear. It was infuriating. He had always possessed that ability to command a room with just a few words, and I hated him for it. I wanted to hit him, to unleash the storm brewing within me, but something deep inside stirred at that thought, twisting my gut.
"You're angry, and I understand. But I won't tolerate disrespect from you," he continued, his tone dripping with contempt. "You came into our territory, and you should consider yourself fortunate we haven't thrown you into a cell. So you can either behave like a good girl or enjoy the comforts of a cell. I will not allow you to act like a petulant child, especially not you."
His words cut deeper than I could express, leaving me feeling small and insignificant, like gum stuck to his shoe. I sat there, still as they quickly secured the cuffs around my wrists, a heavy weight pressing on my heart. He didn't care about me—not really. I was just an inconvenience, a thorn in his side.
"It seems you're agitated by my presence, so I'll return later. Logan will keep you company; I trust you'll comply." He left without a backward glance, casting a meaningful look at Logan as he did, as if communicating silently between them. Since when did they develop that kind of telepathic bond? They had always been inseparable, two lost puppies following each other blindly.
"You did him dirty, Snow." The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I couldn't believe I was standing here, reliving memories I had tried so hard to forget.
The adrenaline from earlier faded, and with it came a torrent of memories—the screams, the agony, and the blood. I turned my head and was met with a sight that stole my breath: a severed head, the lifeless gaze staring back at me, reminding me of the horror I had committed. I had killed to survive, but the weight of that choice crushed me.
Panic surged, and I rubbed my hands furiously over my body, desperate to wipe away the remnants of that nightmarish blood. But all I felt were the cuts and bruises that marred my skin.
My lungs tightened as I struggled to breathe, the air heavy with dread. My mind felt foggy, as if the blood supply had been cut off entirely. I couldn't feel my hands, my arms, or any part of my body. I was slipping away from reality, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Then, warm hands enveloped me, pulling me back into the moment. The familiar embrace wrapped around me like a protective cocoon, easing the chaos swirling inside. I didn't realize how much I had missed this kind of comfort—the brotherly warmth I had longed for but thought I didn't deserve.
I didn't know how long we remained like that, him whispering gentle reassurances as I fought to breathe. Darkness crept in, and I surrendered to it, the weight of exhaustion finally claiming me.
When I came to, I found myself in a different room. It wasn't the surroundings that shocked me; it was the gentle caress of a hand brushing through my hair, the soft pressure of fingers intertwined with mine, as if he feared I would slip away.
I tried to sit up, but a firm grip held me back. He locked his gaze onto mine, and for a moment, everything else faded. "Don't move," he commanded softly, a plea lacing his tone.
Something desperate flickered in his eyes, igniting a yearning within me. I longed to reach out, to hold him, but I resisted. I stayed still, just as he asked, caught between my past and the present.
Time lost all meaning as he continued to stroke my hair, his other hand drawing soothing circles over my palm. I sighed, surrendering to the calming rhythm, every nerve in my body slowly unwinding. This moment felt like a fragile bubble, poised to burst, but I didn't want to leave it yet. I had suffered alone for far too long; I craved this semblance of peace.
A soft breeze wafted through the open window, moonlight casting a silver glow across the room. It illuminated the sharp lines of his face—his jaw, sculpted like marble, and the metallic gray of his eyes that pulled me in like a tidal wave. I stared into those depths, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, while he wrestled with his own, possibly full of resentment toward me.
The fragile moment shattered as he turned away, lost in a distant thought. His hand ceased its soothing motion, but he didn't let go, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
"Rest some more. You need it. Piper will be with you in the morning. When I'm done, I'll come get you, and we can finally talk about how you ended up here," he said softly, but the finality in his voice made my heart race.
"I don't think we have anything to talk about," I replied defensively, my fear swirling like a tempest within me. The reality of what I had done loomed large, and I was terrified to confront it.
His gaze held mine, and I could see the understanding etched in his features. "Don't be afraid. You're safe here. We need to discuss how you got here and why you arrived looking like you were mauled. I want to know why." His jaw clenched tightly at the last part, as if struggling to contain his anger, and his grip on my hand tightened protectively.
He released my hand and stood up, a sense of finality enveloping the room. "Sleep. I promise I'll be here in the morning."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me with my swirling thoughts and fears. My body still needed rest, weighed down by the exhaustion that overtook me again.
I was jolted awake by the door swinging open, a sudden intrusion that sent my heart racing. I instinctively grabbed a pillow, ready to defend myself, when I turned and froze, eyes wide with disbelief.
Standing there was someone I had never expected to see again—the last person I deserved to face.
"You fucking bitch!!!!"