My fingers dug into the wet fabric, grabbing hold of it to pull it across my chest to hide as best as I could while Silas moved, maneuvering me off of his lap and onto the cold hard ground that had a shiver travelling up my spine on contact.
Depositing me onto the ground, he rose to his feet, his hand lowering to his crotch in a poor attempt to cover himself. My eyes widened as they caught sight of the thick hard length he was reaching for before he had a chance to hide it. Not that he was very successful once he did. There was too much for one hand to cover.
It was a wonder how I hadn't felt it.
Fixated on the poorly concealed sight of his length and the dark curls surrounding its base, my eyes only returned to the cold material I held against my chest when he turned his back to me, forcing my eyes away from the sight with a flash of his ass cheeks. I only noticed he was holding something in the hand that wasn't cupping his manhood when he reached down to step into a pair of pants.
Partially dressed with his back to me, I rushed to pull the heavy and cold material over my head while the moment of privacy that I hadn't provided him lasted- and before whoever was approaching got a flash of my chest or any of the other marks my skin sported. It didn't go as smoothly as I had been hoping.
Letting the weight saturating the fabric help it fall down to cover my upper half, I gave it a hard pull that had stitches popping by my ears before I felt my head slip through. Still, my struggles didn't end there; I still had my arms left to pull free. Curling my fingers around the bottom of the hem from the inside, I pulled the sweater down to my thighs stretching it nearly to my knees before trying to free my limbs. It wasn't easy. My frustration grew along with the jerked jabs I gave the material that was sticking to my skin. It took a few attempts but I finally located the sleeves and pulled my reluctant arms through.
Once free, one arm moved to hold down the bottom of the sweater that already had a shiver making my teeth chatter, while the other returned to the emptiness in my chest, the sensation not straying far from my thoughts.
"Why did they take him?" I whispered at Silas, unable to keep from asking about Rowan again. I had a feeling he was linked to the unease the feeling in my chest was stirring.
Was this the bond he was talking about? Was this an effect of the mark he gave me? What did it mean? Was he okay?
The last question kept repeating, demanding to be answered.
"To question him. He made it clear he had information they wanted."
My heart sank. Why would he do that?
"What information?" He was only there for half an hour at most. What could he possibly have to give them that I couldn't?
"Details. The ones that mattered," he answered in clipped whispers before pressing his lips into a firm line.
"Wh-"
He lifted a silencing finger to his lips that had me stilling and listening. The clear sound of footfalls reached my ear moments before the man they belonged to appeared on the other side of the bars.
I stiffened alongside Silas as he came to a stop before our cell, keys jingling in his gloved hand as he peered in at us. The black uniform he wore was familiar, but his face wasn't.
He barely gave Silas a glance, his eyes skimming over him with disinterest before sparking as they caught me peaking around him. His eyes came to a stop, fixating on me.
Silas took a step back, pulling me towards him as the man began to shift through the keys he held. Picking one, he stepped toward the cell door. Slipping it into the lock, he had to remove it to try another when it refused to turn. Another key failed before his third attempt succeeded, turning to unlock it.
