Page 23 of Samuel
His broad back blocked my view, his stance tense and alert.
Overprotective dragon, I thought, a flicker of dark humor cutting through the anxiety tightening my chest.
After a long moment, he seemed to decide it was safe—safe enough, at least—and lowered his arm, allowing me to step beside him.
The door creaked open, and cold morning air rushed in as Samuel swung it wide.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
There, lying just outside the cabin, were three wolves—dead, their bodies twisted and broken as if they’d been tossed aside like rag dolls.
Their eyes were open, glassy, and lifeless, their fur matted with blood and dirt.
I felt a sickening twist in my gut, my mind struggling to process the scene before me.
“What the hell…?” I muttered under my breath, taking a hesitant step forward.
Samuel’s hand came up again, blocking my path.
His gaze was fixed on the dead wolves, but his expression remained unreadable, cold.
I couldn’t tell if he was angry, disturbed, or something else entirely.
Maybe it was just the dragon in him, staying focused on the threat while I was still grappling with what this all meant.
“What does this mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
My mind raced through possibilities, but none of them made any sense.
Why would someone or something leave dead wolves on our doorstep?
“It’s a message,” Samuel replied, his voice as calm as if we were discussing the weather.
A chill ran down my spine at his words. A message. Whoever had done this wanted us to see it. Wanted us to know. Butwhat?
“What message?” I asked, glancing up at him, hoping he had some kind of explanation.
“That we’re next,” Samuel said, his gaze shifting to me.
His eyes glowed faintly, that eerie gold flicker I had come to recognize as a sign his dragon was close to the surface.
The air between us thickened, the weight of his words sinking in.
My throat tightened, and for a second, the world felt like it was tilting on its axis. Someone—something—was hunting us.
I didn’t need Samuel’s shifter senses to tell me that much.
Suddenly, the cabin didn’t feel safe anymore. The walls felt too thin, the isolation too vulnerable.
My pulse quickened, my fight-or-flight instincts roaring to life.
I had faced danger before, countless times, but this was different. This wasn’t just about survival. This was personal.
Samuel’s hand brushed mine, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Let’s head back inside,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less commanding.
I nodded, still staring at the bodies for another heartbeat.
