Page 12 of Samuel
Dark hair, muscular frame, and a face that was almost… too perfect.
His eyes, however, were what caught me—intense, piercing, like they could see straight through me.
For a second, I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Was this the one who…?
“You’re awake,” the man said, his voice deep, steady. He didn’t move, just watched me with those unnerving eyes. “You shouldn’t be up and about so soon.”
My hand gripped the cleaver tighter, though I doubted it would do much good.
He didn’t seem threatened by it. In fact, the way his gaze lingered on me, there was almost a... possessiveness in his expression.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice sounding a little more strained than I intended. “What did you do to me?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering how much to tell me.
“I saved your life. Those rogues... they would’ve killed you. Torn you apart,” he said.
I swallowed hard, the memory of the wolves flashing in my mind.
“And the mark?” I pressed, my fingers brushing against the bite again. I needed answers.
His expression darkened for a moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
“That… was the only way to save you,” he said.
My stomach dropped. I knew what that meant, but hearing it confirmed sent a wave of nausea rolling through me again.
“You… you marked me.” My voice cracked on the words.
He stood then, moving with a predator’s grace.
“Yes.” He took a step closer, and I instinctively stepped back, though part of me didn’t want to. “You’re mine now.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I shook my head, backing up until I was pressed against the doorframe.
“I’m a hunter. You don’t mark hunters. It’s… it’s insane,” I whispered, my voice trembling with disbelief.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, deep and dangerous. His gaze bore into me with such intensity that I couldn’t help but flinch.
“It’s done, Blake. You can’t change that,” he said simply, like he was telling me the sky was blue or water was wet.
Infuriating man. No, not a man. A monster. I had to remind myself of that.
He might look human, but I couldn’t forget what he really was.
“How do you know my name?” I demanded, my pulse racing.
Was he some kind of psychic? Did he have access to my thoughts, my memories? The idea scared me senseless.
He smiled, a slow, knowing grin that sent a confusing rush of heat coursing through me, despite the panic clawing at my insides.
“I know a lot about you. And now, so does my beast,” he said.
His words sent a shiver down my spine. His beast. What kind of shifter had I gotten mixed up with?
Not just any average predator, that was for sure.
The primal energy radiating from him, the raw power, made my instincts scream at me to run, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate.
