Page 51 of Witch's Wolf

His expression hardens. His eyes narrow as his jaw tightens.

“Get out of my way,” he demands, his arm pushing me aside. The warmth of his skin sears against mine for the briefest second. “I did what I came here for. You’re safe now.”

“No,” I blurt, moving without thinking. I reach for him but stop with my fingers hovering over his chest. “Forgive me,” I beg, raw and unfiltered. “I was weak. I let my past get inside my head. I never should’ve left you?—”

“I said?—”

I don’t let him finish. Something shifts inside me, something powerful, something I can’t contain. A force surges outward, crackling like an electric current through my veins.

The moment my hands move, Sam jerks back as if struck by an invisible wave. He flies across the room and slams against the closet door with his arms splayed out to the sides. He’s pinned by a force I don’t understand except, deep down, I do.

I did this. This is my magic.

His lips curl into a smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“There’s the witch,” he grunts, face twitching. “I was wondering when she’d finally show up. Guess I have my answer now.”

I look at my hands, trembling from the force that surged through me. I didn’t mean to push him or to hold him like that. Magic? If that’s what this is, it feels raw. It’s tangled, wound up with my emotions, withhim.

“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling scared and uncertain. I lower my hands and whatever hold I had on him is released “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Sam exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off invisible chains. The hurt and betrayal on his face is a knife to my heart.

“Yeah, well, it did.”

“I need… a minute. Please, Sam. Will you give me that?”

“Go ahead,” he huffs.

I close my eyes and take two deep breaths, holding, then exhaling. Then I force myself to meet his gaze. My heart pounds like a war drum and I want to run, get away, but I’m going to do this.

“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me. Say it and I’ll open that door myself,” I say, pointing at the door behind me. My throat burns, but I keep going. “But if there’s anything left,anything, please… give me a second chance.”

“Erica—”

“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I hurt you. I know I—” a sob rips through before I can stop it. I bow my head, shoulders shaking, and breath coming in sharp gasps.

I expect his retreat, the sound of his boots on the floor, each step carving another wound in my heart. I brace for it. Ideserveit. But it doesn’t come.

Instead, there is the warmth of his touch as his fingers brush beneath my chin and tilt my face up. His eyes, stormy and conflicted, search mine.

“Every instinct I have is screaming to get out of here,” he murmurs. “But, damn it Erica, my heart… my heart tells me to stay.”

I reach up, fingers curling around his wrist, guiding his hand to my chest.

“Then listen. Please,” I whisper. “Feel it.”

His palm settles over my racing heart, and he shudders.

“You Siren…” his voice is barely more than a breath, rough and aching. “You’rekillingme.”

28

ERICA

Idon’t need to hear anything else. His confession shatters the last of my resistance, slipping through the cracks of my broken heart. He’s hurting. So am I. But the difference between us right now is that I refuse to let him go.

I release his wrist and step into him. My breath catches as I shut my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t resist. His body is rigid with tension, but he doesn’t push me away. When our lips meet, the warmth of his mouth sears through me, melting everything but this moment. My tears mix with the rough scrape of his stubble, a silent apology against his skin.

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