Page 13 of Samuel
Flashes of memories returned. I remembered the blood, the pain, and him.
That soft, shadowed face leaning over me. And then... those two words I’d whispered to him. Thank you.
I flushed with embarrassment. I had actually thanked him for saving my life.
I prayed he didn’t remember, but despite not knowing him that well yet, I had a feeling he wouldn’t let something like that go.
I was in far deeper than I’d ever been before.
This wasn’t just about surviving a battle anymore—there was a dangerous connection between us now.
I could feel it, a pull that stretched across the space between us like a living, breathing thing, heat sparking along invisible threads.
It was too intense, too overwhelming. My breath came in shallow gasps as I realized that the danger wasn’t just external.
It was inside me, too.
I swallowed hard, trying to focus. We’d been taught as hunters that shifters, vampires, and anything supernatural didn’t have souls.
They were threats to humanity, creatures to be eliminated.
My world had always been clear-cut, black and white, until now. Until him.
Now, everything felt grey, murky, like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff and the ground beneath me was crumbling.
“That was a joke,” he said dryly, his voice pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “I took a peek at your driver’s license.”
The absurdity of it hit me, and for a split second, I almost laughed.
This dangerous, terrifying man—no, predatory shifter—was making a joke.
“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered, needing something, anything, to make this situation feel less like I was losing control of my entire life.
“It’s Samuel,” he said as he rose slowly to his feet.
Samuel? Somehow, that name suited him.
He moved with the grace of a predator, every motion controlled, deliberate.
Samuel slid his hands into the pockets of his jogging pants, the same ones I realized matched the clothes I was wearing.
Clothes that, for some insane reason, smelled comforting to me. Ash and coffee.
No. That was the mark, the mating bond, messing with my head, right? It had to be.
I couldn’t be this attracted to someone I just met.
“So,” Samuel drawled, his voice a lazy rumble. “What are you intending to do with that knife?”
I blinked, realizing I still had the cleaver clenched in my hand. My fingers ached from gripping it so tightly.
What was I intending to do? Could I even fight him? The heat between us, the strange connection, made my thoughts blur.
Part of me screamed to strike, to defend myself, but another part—the part influenced by whatever he’d done to me—wanted to drop the weapon entirely and… trust him.
That part went against everything I believed in as a hunter.
“I…” I faltered, my voice shaking. “I’ll leave. Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this, about you. I’ll disappear, I swear.”
