Page 28 of Stealing Samantha

“Don’t answer—not yet,” she said, placing two fingers softly against his lips. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t. I know I shouldn’t ask.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes soft and glassy, and he knew he should try to stop her, but he couldn’t make himself speak. “Could you stay? Is there any way you could leave it behind?”

Distantly, beneath the pounding rush of blood in his ears, he could hear the sounds of the rest of their group growing fainter as they progressed without them. Jaess froze.No. The answer was no. He opened his mouth to tell her, but although his lips parted, the air caught in his throat and no sound came out. He stood there, paralyzed as he watched her expression transform, helpless to explain himself. That furrow between her eyes had made a reappearance as she blinked back tears. She couldn’t seem to look at him any longer, and he knew he needed to speak to have any hope of keeping her at his side.

“I—I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do this. Not now. I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault, Jay, but I need to go.” She backed away from him as if she feared he was a venomous beast, moving with quick, darting steps, her eyes cast downwards. “We’ll talk later at the tents—enjoy the ruins.”

Finally, whatever had kept him motionless and mute released its hold. He lunged forward, intending to reach for her.

“Stop. Please, Jaess. Just give me the afternoon. I need some time to think.”

And then she left him, just as he’d always feared she would.

He barely saw the majesty of the ruins when they reached them. No matter where he went, he was conscious of her position, although he tried not to stare, to respect her demands. When he reached the summit of the greatest of the pyramids, his mind cataloged the beauty of the view and the way the vast forest undulated like a great ocean in the distance, hazy with heat. His mind acknowledged this sacred place with awe, but the animal creature and the soul at the core of him, they cried out for his mate, the pain an unending note that blocked all else.

17

Sam hadn’t beenable to look at him any longer. She’d known what the answer would be before she’d ever asked, yet some small part of her had hoped he might say yes. Instead he’d said nothing at all. She looked around. She was surrounded by beauty, in a place that was right out of holo-vid. This was the kind of adventure she’d always wanted, and she couldn’t even enjoy it. Just like before, the taste of her dreams was like bitter ash.

Someone tugged on her sleeve and she almost lost her footing, her shoulders jumping in alarm.

“Are you well?” She breathed easy when she saw X’tha’s nostrils flare in distaste as she looked Sam over. At least it wasn’t Jaess—not yet. “You don’t look well,” X’tha continued. “Come. The man told us the sun will set soon and we must make camp. I will show you your tent.”

“Thanks, X’tha,” she said. She didn’t sound well, either.

X’tha gave her another sidelong inspection. “You were not with Jaess. He ascended the pyramid without you.”

The woman didn’t come right out and ask anything, so Sam just shrugged her shoulders and smiled tightly. “I didn’t feel like making the climb,” she replied. She wasn’t in the mood to pour out her heart a second time that day, especially to a woman she barely knew. Luckily, X’tha left it alone, only remarking upon the ruins and her favorite aspects of the site as she led Sam towards the area where their tents had been pitched.

“You and Jaess are there.” X’tha pointed to one at the edge of the small clearing. Their tent was a bit smaller than the rest, presumably since it was only meant to sleep two people.

“Thanks,” she said again, and she headed over to the lone little tent, hoping that Jaess wasn’t there. When she unfastened a flap and saw that it was empty, her heart fell all the same.

The afternoon had been torture, and she knew it’d been her own fault. She’d already resolved not to ask him to stay. Sam had known his ties to the forest were too strong for him to cut, and she didn’t want to be the one to force him into that kind of sacrifice. A year ago, she might have thought it’d be worth it, but she couldn’t bear to see him wilt away, longing for a place he’d never see again.

That didn’t keep her from hating this place now. It’d reminded him of home—she’d seen it from the first, and the selfish, small part of her had wished that they’d never come here at all, even though she’d seen how much joy it brought him. She hated feeling this way.

She settled down on one of the cots inside and watched the flaps at the entrance, alternately hoping and dreading to see Jaess’ winged shadow. What if he never came at all? What if she had to sleep here alone, wondering if the night before was the last time they’d ever share a bed? How would she bear it?

There would be a dinner before they slept, but she wanted to wait for him here. She’d told him to meet her at the tent, even before she’d realized they’d have their own. She’d figure out something to say. There had to be something she could do, a way to make things right.

Her knees were bouncing as she waited for Jaess to appear. She couldn’t stay still, and the sounds of the jungle had her on edge. There was this droning noise that came in waves, a suffocating buzzing that crescendoed over and over, yet never fully receded. Some sort of bug, the guide had told her when she’d asked—cicadas.

Could she do it? Could she go back?

Sam swore as she bit her lip and made her hands into fists. When she straightened out her fingers, she saw that they shook. That was exactly why she’d told herself not to ask Jaess to stay. She’d already known the answer to both questions. The place Jaess loved best in the galaxy was the nexus of her nightmares, the one place that stole her confidence right from under her. She didn’t want to think that the scared, sniveling version of herself she’d been there had been the real Sam. She didn’t want to go back and learn that this life that felt so good, so right, was only pretend.

The bug noise was louder now. It grated on her nerves as she waited, and she could see that someone outside had turned on lights to ward against the coming night.

When the tent flap opened, the sound of it hit her like a slap. She froze, just as Jaess had done on the path. She watched him duck down and push his wings through the opening. He was looking at her, and she couldn’t turn away. Was this how he’d felt then, when she’d wanted to curse him for staying silent? Like he was choking on all of the competing thoughts that raced to the surface?

“Sam? Are you all right?” he asked. He walked towards her slowly until he knelt down in front of her, pushing into the space between her legs. He didn’t touch her yet, but she felt trapped nonetheless. “Look at me Sam. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear earlier, but we still need to talk.”

“Bite me,” she said. His crown feathers flicked up and down before he tilted his head to the side. She swallowed hard. She knew she was pulling out the big guns, even though she shouldn’t. That was what Uvaess had always wanted from her—the claiming bite. Maybe, just maybe, even if the bite couldn’t make him stay, it would keep part of him here with her. They said it was some sacred bond, that it changed things. She wanted that—she wanted it all with Jaess, whatever she could get.

He spread his large hands out over her thighs and pressed down, just enough to command her attention. When she met his eyes again, he answered her. “No.” She felt hot, jittery, and ashamed. “You’d expect me to claim you and leave half my heart behind? No, Sam. It can’t be like that.” He shook his head, adopting the human gesture before he looked back up at her. “You gave me an afternoon to think. I wish I could lie to you and say that I could stay here and we could be happy, but I must be honest. I wouldn’t ask you to return to Vastiss and the forest. I know why I couldn’t, but Sam, why not Verkissat? When you spoke of it, it sounded as if you still loved it. You were ready to leave Earth for the promise of Verkissat before. Why not now? Why not with me?”

Her lips moved as she fumbled for speech. “Verkissat?” she finally repeated like a slow parrot.

“Yes, Verkissat,” he said, grabbing her hands with excitement. “You could have the life you wanted before, but this time it would be us. Ask me for the mating bite then, Sam, and I’ll give it to you. Let me make you happy there.”

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