Page 15 of Samuel
But as I looked into his eyes, something inside me faltered. There was power there, yes, but there was also something else.
Something that scared me even more than his strength.
There was want.
And even worse, I realized with a sickening twist in my gut, that same want was reflected somewhere deep inside me.
This was real. I was bound to him in a way I couldn’t break.
No matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much I fought, there was no undoing the mark on my neck.
Samuel watched me in silence, as if waiting for me to understand. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle but firm.
“You’re not leaving, Blake. You can try. I’m not stopping you, because you’re not my captive. But you won’t go far. Eventually, you’ll come crawling back to me,” he said... and then some part of me knew he was right.
CHAPTER FOUR
SAMUEL/ BLAKE
SAMUEL
As Blake and I stood facing each other, a thick tension hung in the air, charged with emotions that neither of us was fully ready to confront.
His wide eyes, darting between me and the cleaver in his hand, showed the panic simmering beneath his calm façade.
Part of me wondered if I’d gone too far, sounded too possessive too quickly, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I was merely telling the truth—there was no undoing a mating bond, not now, not ever.
The difference between us was striking.
While Blake seemed horrified at the very notion of being tied to me, I found myself growing more intrigued by him with every second.
The bond between us wasn’t something I had chosen, but I couldn’t deny its pull.
And it didn’t hurt that my human was fascinating—complicated, stubborn, and full of life.
Something told me that being with Blake would never be boring.
Realizing Blake hadn’t let go of the cleaver, I held out my hand, trying to keep my voice steady, though amusement flickered beneath the surface.
“Hand me the knife before you hurt yourself,” I said, my tone almost playful.
Blake looked at me, then down at the cleaver as if he’d forgotten it was still clutched in his trembling hand.
His heart was racing so fast I could practically hear it hammering against his ribs.
Maybe I should have eased him into this situation more gently, given him time to adjust, but then again, Blake was a hunter.
Shouldn’t he be used to surprises?
But then, instead of handing over the cleaver, Blake raised it, his grip tightening like he actually intended to use it.
I raised an eyebrow, my amusement growing. Blake knew that little blade wouldn’t do anything to me, right?
Even if he managed to land a hit—which was doubtful—the bond would ensure whatever pain he inflicted on me would rebound right back to him.
“Our life forces are now connected, entwined. Hurt me, and you’ll only hurt yourself,” I reminded him, my voice calm but firm.
