Page 14 of Samuel
I sounded like a coward, but what else was there to do?
Samuel’s eyes narrowed slightly, the gold flecks in his irises catching the light.
“You think I’ll let you leave now? After what happened?”
His words were soft, but there was an undercurrent of steel beneath them.
I felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, pressing down on me, rooting me to the spot.
My heart raced, pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest.
“You don’t have a choice, Blake.” His voice lowered, growing more possessive, almost… primal. “You’re mine now.”
My stomach dropped.Mine.
The word echoed in my mind, sending another rush of fear—and something else, something dangerous—coursing through me.
I had never belonged to anyone before. The very idea of it was foreign, unsettling.
Yet, in the darkest corners of my thoughts, during my rare days off from the Guild, I’d sometimes wondered what it would be like.
To be someone’s. To feel that kind of connection, that intensity.
Shifters mated for life, I recalled. It was one of the first lessons we were taught about their kind—an unbreakable bond that lasted until death.
When I was younger, before I was fully entrenched in the life of a hunter, I’d secretly thought that was... romantic.
The idea of finding someone you were destined to be with, a bond so deep it couldn’t be severed.
I only ever shared that with Finn. We’d been drinking one night, just the two of us, after a particularly brutal hunt.
I’d let my guard down, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Finn had agreed with me, though he’d been quiet about it, like he was admitting something he shouldn’t.
We never spoke of that conversation again, not to each other, and certainly not to Finn’s brothers or any of the other hunters.
That kind of talk would’ve been dangerous, seen as a sign of weakness. And weakness wasn’t tolerated in our world.
But now, standing here in front of Samuel, those fleeting thoughts seemed like a cruel joke.
I wasn’t some naïve kid anymore. I was a hunter. And this wasn’t some romantic fantasy—it was real. Too real.
Get yourself together, I reminded myself.
“You don’t own me,” I said, but my voice cracked, betraying the panic rising inside me.
He took a step closer, and despite myself, I couldn’t move.
“This isn’t about ownership,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “It’s about survival. You would’ve died, Blake. I saved you. The bond saved you.”
“That doesn’t mean I belong to you!” I shouted, though my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears.
Samuel’s expression softened for a fraction of a second, almost as if he pitied me.
“You don’t understand yet. But you will,” he said with such smugness I didn’t know whether to punch him or…kiss him.
I wanted to argue, to scream at him that he had no right to decide my fate.
