Page 78 of Witch's Wolf

They hesitate only for a moment before melting back into the trees. I turn to him, folding my arms over my chest.

“Just so you know, I’m not worried about Roberta attacking us out here,” I say.

“You’re not? Why?” he asks, one eyebrow arching.

“Her little show back in Dawson proved one thing.” I slow my words, replaying every awful moment of that night. “She loves theatrics. Big audiences, maximum shock factor. I guess I got that from her.”

My lips curl into a wry smile, the irony of it not lost on me. Sam shakes his head.

“I said I didn’t want to talk about her anymore tonight,” he says, his voice soft as he steps closer, fingers grazing up my arms. His touch sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. “That scent of yours? It’s killing me.”

I laugh, slipping my arms around his neck.

“Really? How’s it doing that?”

“It’s your life force,” Sam murmurs, his gaze boring into me. The hunger in him sends a shiver through me. “You're happy, whichmeans you smell like a breathing, walking cinnamon cookie. I don’t know if I want to kiss you or take a bite out of you.”

I laugh and drop my head, shaking it.

“Wow, way to be romantic, Sammy. That was… something.”

“Oh, I can be romantic,” he says, his voice rich with certainty. “I want to go back to Michelle’s, just to hear you sing again. You might like big audiences, but just once, I’d like to be the only one in the room, the only one enjoying the show.” He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “My Siren’s show.”

His words steal my breath, my amusement vanishing in an instant. I don’t have words to answer him, so I don’t.

A soft breeze sweeps against my skin as I tip my head up. Our lips meet and his warmth seeps into me. My hands roam over his shoulder blades, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. Wrapped in his arms, I don’t need eight, ten, or even twenty bodyguards. He’s all I need.

We both know how vulnerable we are out here. How easily everything could go wrong. And yet, Sam is here. Standing beside me. Ready for anything.

I slide my fingers into his hair, my forehead pressing against his as I whisper the only truth I can give him.

“I’m staying with you. I won’t do what Monica did to your brother. I know I don’t deserve your trust after screwing up with you but believe me—I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands tighten at my waist, reassuring, locking me into this moment with him.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet vow. “Because I’m not going anywhere, either. We’ll face this together. And whatever else comes our way.”

“And what do you think that might be?” I murmur, easing back just enough to study his face. “You’ve already taken on vampires and witches. What’s next?”

A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“You’re in my world now, Erica,” he says, his voice dipping into something near a growl. “You won’t get bored. I can promise you that much.”

Before I can tease him about his dramatics, a howl rips through the valley, long and commanding. It sends a shiver skittering down my spine. Sam’s head snaps toward the west, his entire body going rigid.

“I’m sorry. We have to leave,” he says, tone sharp with urgency. “Come on. And have to hurry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I say, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I wanted time alone with you, and I got it. Let’s go.”

We jog up the bank, the rustling of bushes and the agitated barks and yips of wolves filling the air. They heard the call too. The Alpha’s command.

I swallow my frustration. I wouldn’t have minded a slow walk around the lake, a few more stolen touches, but I won’t complain. I got more than I could have hoped for. A moment of intimacy and a chance to say things I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to.

And I don’t know when, or if, I’ll get another one.

43

SAM

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