Freya's POV The rise and fall of his chest drew my eyes again and again, impossible to ignore. Silas… even like this, half-reclining and drained, he carried a presence that made the room feel alive with some dangerous, intoxicating energy. His bare chest moved beneath the dim amber lights, muscles contracting in uneven waves, and I felt the pull in my chest, a mix of caution and unwilling fascination. I forced my eyes away, reminding myself why I was here. "Yes… I came," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Wren told me… you drank some tainted liquor, and you refused medical care." He exhaled roughly, his chest heaving, and reached out, taking my wrist in his hand. His grip was firm, scorching hot, and my breath caught in my throat. "Medical care?" he rasped, leaning closer, his amber eyes locking on mine. "If I leave this room like this… imagine the chaos it would cause. A scandal… the headlines… the impact on the Coalition… I can't let it happen." My hand felt as if it were being pressed into fire. Was his heat from the poison, or was this just the way he burned-Alpha, alive, dominant? "If you're worried about people seeing you, I can block all the surveillance from the lounge to the car," I told him. "Just cover yourself with a blanket. Nobody will know it's you." He shook his head weakly, gasping, voice thick with both pain and frustration. "And if they still find out? And even if I reach the hospital, someone will leak it… nothing is ever secret, not in this world. You… you know that better than anyone. You left me because of what I did with your brother. Because I failed him." I felt his desperation, his voice trembling, his grip on my wrist tightening as if I were the only lifeline keeping him from toppling. "Silas… we've already ended things," I said firmly. "I didn't come here to be your cure, to sacrifice myself for you. I came to make sure you go to a hospital. Whatever concerns you have… the Whitmore influence can handle them." He made a soft, almost pleading noise. "And if… I still refuse?" He forced himself upright, tremors coursing through his body as he swayed dangerously toward me. My instincts screamed, and I reached out, steadying him. His body pressed close to mine, the heat radiating off him through the fabric of his shirt searing against my skin. His muscles twitched beneath my touch, restrained yet coiled, like a wolf barely held back from full predatory release. His hands clutched me tighter, as if my presence could hold the poison, the pain, the chaos at bay."You know what this poison does," he whispered into my ear, each word a rasping growl. "It feels like fire crawling under your skin, like venomous insects gnawing at every nerve. Do you want to watch me burn, Freya?" I swallowed hard, forcing myself to maintain control. "I've said it already… we're done. I'm not here to do this with you." "But you came," he murmured, brushing against me, his hands mapping the contours of my arms, my sides, searching for a tether to keep his sanity. "So… you still care, don't you? You still feel something for me." "I'm here to make sure you don't blame Wren for anything," I said evenly. "Not because of you." A low, hoarse laugh escaped him, ragged and almost feral. "I don't believe you don't care at all." "Believe what you want," I snapped, trying to push him away. But the moment I touched him, I felt the shift. His body was changing under the influence of the poison, muscles taut, heart racing like a wolf on the hunt. My mind raced. I couldn't let him collapse here. The only solution was to knock him unconscious and get him to a hospital immediately. "And if I told you… that the liquor I drank… was meant for you?" he said, each word a ragged breath. "What?" My pulse spiked. I had assumed the poison was meant for him, some scheme of a jealous rival. But he shook his head, amber eyes clouded with fever and pain, and whispered, "It was Caelum Grafton. He intended you to drink it." I froze. Caelum… that despicable man. Poison, a hidden camera… all aimed at me, at some leverage to control my actions. The memory of how I had once saved him, married him even, sent a wave of anger rushing through me. "I'll deal with him," I muttered under my breath, teeth gritting. "I haven't let him go either," Silas whispered, voice raw with emotion, his lips brushing closer to mine. "Freya… if Caelum ever tries to hurt you, he'll pay… in a way that he'll never forget." My heart hammered, both fear and relief running through me. "What… what did you do?" I asked, panic threading my voice. "Are you worried about me, or about him?" His lips hovered near my ear, voice low, guttural. I didn't answer. "If it's about me… I'm glad. If it's about Caelum… I only made him swallow the rest of that poisoned liquor himself. Everything he wanted to do to you, he will now endure.""Then… why did you drink it?" I asked, my voice barely audible over my pounding heart. His amber eyes, glazed and fiery at once, fixed on me, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a dangerous, intoxicating curve. "Because I wanted to see if you would come… to see if you'd save me." A jolt ran through me, disbelief and something darker, something primal, gnawing at the edges of my mind. He wanted me to witness him in this state… a twisted gamble, a wolf testing the bonds of its mate. And then, before I could even respond, his lips claimed mine. Hard, demanding, a searing heat that pressed me into the world of him, a world where Alpha strength met vulnerable need. I froze, shock and instinct warping into a single, potent sensation. Silas Whitmor-Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition, unyielding, dangerous-was burning against me, and somehow, in this moment, it was all consuming.