Page 9 of Samuel
He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against my unshaven cheek.
The contact sent a jolt of electricity through me, a shock I hadn’t expected.
“You’re safe now,” I told him, my voice rough but steady.
I didn’t know why I said it.
This man was a complete stranger to me, and judging by the way he was dressed—in hunting gear—it should’ve raised alarms.
But I couldn’t bring myself to care about that right now. There was time for questions later. Right now, I just had to keep him alive.
He didn’t respond, but his eyes fluttered closed again, and his hand fell away from my face, limp and lifeless.
I wasn’t going to let him die. Not out here. Not if I had anything to say about it.
With a careful gentleness I didn’t often have to use, I scooped him up into my arms.
His body was alarmingly light, and his breathing was growing more erratic by the second.
I didn’t have much time.
My cabin wasn’t far, but even the short distance felt like an eternity as I carried him through the trees, my dragon clawing at my insides, urging me to move faster.
By the time I got him inside and onto the couch, he was unconscious, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.
I grabbed the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink and hurried back to him, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I peeled away his blood-soaked shirt, my eyes caught something on his left shoulder—a tattoo.
A dagger wrapped in thorny vines, with words etched beneath it. Latin, I realized.
That tattoo. I’d seen it before.
I filed the thought away for later. Right now, the priority was saving him.
His wounds were bad—deep gashes along his side, his leg mangled by the wolf’s claws.
I tried to clean and bandage what I could, but it was clear that it wasn’t going to be enough.
The bleeding wouldn’t stop. His breathing was growing weaker.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.
The human was too far gone. There was no way normal first aid could save him now.
Save him. We can’t let him die.My dragon’s voice echoed in my mind, urgent and possessive.
I could feel the primal instinct rising in me, demanding action.
My gaze fell to his neck, the smooth skin just above his collarbone, unmarked but so vulnerable.
Without thinking, my fangs slid out, sharp and ready.
I cradled him gently against my chest, my fingers brushing the dark hair away from his face.
He looked so fragile like this, his skin pale and clammy, his life slipping away.
I couldn’t let him go. I wouldn’t.
