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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 facade.

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.

His face paled as the full weight of my words settled over him. His voice was barely a whisper, raw and stricken.

“You cursed me…”

Then, with a sharp exhale, Blake threw the cleaver to the floor and bolted past me.

For a brief second, I stood frozen, too surprised to react. Had he just…?

I felt the faint brush of air as Blake’s body rushed past me, vanishing into the thick line of trees that bordered the cabin.

And then I smiled.

He was running.

I liked it when he ran.

Still, I decided to give him a head start.

Chasing him too soon wouldn’t be fair, and besides, a good hunt always required patience.

Ten minutes seemed like a reasonable lead. I could already tell that Blake wasn’t someone who gave up easily.

He had fire, and while he might not understand it yet, that fire was one of the many things I found irresistible about him.

His spirit drew me in like nothing else.

As I waited, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, imprinting Blake’s scent into my memory.

It was unmistakable—sharp, clean, cinnamon with an undertone of earth and something uniquely him .

A mix of determination and vulnerability, something wild yet fragile all at once.

The smell was intriguing, magnetic, and I knew I’d be able to find him anywhere.

After ten minutes, I set off at a leisurely pace, tracking him with ease.

The forest was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves, the sound of nocturnal creatures scurrying about.

Blake’s scent was fresh, leading me deeper into the woods. But then I heard it—a familiar howl.

My steps quickened, worry seeping into my chest. There were more of those wolves? I’d taken care of two just yesterday.

Rogue shifters usually hunted alone. It was odd for them to move in packs like this.

Could it mean there was an entire rogue pack out there?

That would explain the strange energy in this place, the growing unrest I could sense.

And then, of course, there was the dragon—the real reason I was out here in the first place. I hadn’t forgotten about it.

I knew it was still out there, lurking, watching, waiting for me to make my move.

Damn it. I broke into a jog, moving faster now, my senses fully alert.

The forest was vast, and Blake wasn’t in any condition to fight off a pack of rogue wolves, let alone a dragon.

He might be a hunter, but without his weapons and fully healed injuries, he was vulnerable.

The thought of those creatures finding him first made my heart pound harder.

Because it wasn’t just Blake’s life on the line. Our bond meant that if anything happened to him, it would affect me too.

More than that—Blake was mine, and I wasn’t about to let anything take him from me.

The scent of Blake grew stronger as I neared the trees.

My ears picked up on the subtle sounds of his footsteps, uneven but determined, as he tried to navigate through the thick underbrush.

He wasn’t far now, but something else caught my attention—the unmistakable growls of wolves.

They were close, too close for comfort.

I cursed under my breath and broke into a full sprint, my muscles burning as I pushed through the trees. The wolves had found him.

The howls grew louder, more aggressive, and then I saw them—three rogue wolves, circling Blake like vultures.

He was backed up against a tree, holding a branch like a makeshift weapon. His face was pale, but his eyes blazed with defiance.

My chest tightened. I admired his courage, but he wouldn’t last long against them. Not like this.

Without a second thought, I launched myself forward, my body moving on pure instinct.

The first wolf barely had time to react before I grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and hurled it into a nearby tree.

It whimpered and fell to the ground, motionless. The second wolf lunged at me, fangs bared, but I was faster.

I dodged its attack and delivered a swift kick to its ribs, sending it sprawling.

The third wolf hesitated, eyeing me warily. It growled low in its throat, but it knew better than to attack.

With a final snarl, it turned and fled into the shadows, disappearing into the forest.

Panting, I turned back to Blake, who was still pressed against the tree, his eyes wide with shock and something else—relief, maybe?

Gratitude?

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice softer now, the heat of battle fading from my veins.

He nodded, but his legs gave out, and he slid to the ground, exhausted.

I knelt beside him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I told you, Blake. You can’t run from me,” I said, my voice low and possessive. “You’re mine.”

Blake looked up at me, his breathing ragged. His lips parted as if to protest, but no words came out.

Instead, he just stared at me, his blue eyes full of confusion and something else, something that made my heart skip a beat.

And in that moment, I knew—I’d do anything to protect him.

BLAKE

“This is embarrassing. Put me down!” I demanded, but it was no use.

Samuel had already scooped me up like I didn’t weigh a thing, holding me firmly against his chest as he carried me back to the cabin.

My face burned with outrage, but beneath that, something else simmered—a mix of confusion and something I didn’t want to name.

Samuel’s eyes no longer glowed gold with the intensity of battle, but the memory of that fight still took my breath away, not that I’d ever tell him.

Whatever his inner beast was, it had swatted those rogue wolves aside like they were nothing more than flies.

I’d never seen anything like it. The sheer power, the way he moved—it was terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once.

And the look on Samuel’s face when he found me, clinging to a branch like an idiot, trying to fend off those wolves... Pure fury.

But none of that anger had been directed at me.

No one had ever been angry for me before. Not like that.

The protectiveness in his gaze, the way he had immediately gone to war for me—it was overwhelming.

My chest felt strange, tight, like something was burning there.

It was a dangerous feeling, something that made me want to run, to retreat back into the safety of my own walls.

“He’s only worried about himself,” I told myself, trying to regain some sense of control. “If I get hurt, he gets hurt. He’s just looking out for his own interests.”

But the more I thought about it, the less it made sense. If it was all about self-preservation, why save me in the first place?

Samuel had said it himself—our lives were connected now. I was stuck with him whether I liked it or not.

He could’ve left me to die. He didn’t owe me anything. So why did he go through the trouble of saving me?

I sighed, slumping slightly against his chest, despite myself.

There was no point in protesting about being carried back like some lost prince.

He was too strong, and deep down, I was too tired to keep fighting him all the time.

His chest was firm beneath me, warm like a furnace, and he smelled... good.

Like pine and smoke, with that underlying scent that was just him .

I should’ve been wary of those thoughts, but I was exhausted.

The fight was wearing me down, and some part of me—some small, traitorous part—wondered if it would just be easier to stop resisting. To give in.

But give in to what , exactly?

Even if I made it out of these cursed woods, where would I go? Back to the Guild?

They’d take one look at the mark on my neck and execute me on the spot.

They didn’t tolerate anything that blurred the lines between human and monster.

Gordon probably already reported me dead, and it wasn’t like there was anyone left there for me, except Finn.

And Finn… he’d move on. He was stronger than I ever was.

The sharp realization hit me hard—no one else would miss me.

No one but Finn.

The thought gnawed at me, a bitter ache in my chest.

Hunters were supposed to be pragmatic, emotionless, but I had always been too sensitive, too emotional.

Maybe that’s why I was destined to fail, to end up here, mated to someone I barely knew and trapped in a situation I couldn’t escape.

Before I knew it, we’d reached the cabin, and Samuel gently set me down on the bed.

His touch was careful, as if he was afraid I might break.

I wanted to snap at him again, to regain some control over the situation, but the exhaustion hit me like a wave.

I barely had the strength to sit up.

“Rest,” Samuel said, his voice softer now. “I’ll bring you some food and water.”

I wanted to argue, to insist that I didn’t need anything from him, but the truth was, I was too tired to fight anymore.

My eyelids felt heavy, and before I knew it, I was drifting off into a dream.

In the dream, I was at my own funeral. There was no one there, save for Finn.

He stood alone, weeping quietly as they lowered my body into the ground. There were no other mourners.

No one to remember me, no one to care. I had always been alone, but seeing it laid out like that made it real.

Made it hurt in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

When I woke up, the dream lingered, a dull ache in my chest.

The smell of something good reached my nose—soup, maybe—and I realized Samuel had returned.

He set a bowl of soup and a bottle of water on the table beside the bed.

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered, the weight of the dream still pressing on me.

Samuel took a sip of the soup, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Tastes good,” he said.

I scowled, my stomach betraying me with a loud growl. Without thinking, I snatched the spoon from him and took a bite.

To my annoyance, it was good.

I ate in silence, refusing to meet his gaze, but when the bowl was empty, I couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through me.

It wasn’t just the food—it was the strange, unspoken connection between us, one I wasn’t ready to confront.

When I was done, I pushed the bowl aside and finally spoke, my voice low. “You said earlier you wouldn’t stop me from leaving.”

Samuel’s expression was unreadable as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“I did. But you saw what’s out there,” Samuel pointed out.

I didn’t want to admit he was right. The wolves, the danger—it was too much for me to handle alone in my current state.

“You said I need to heal. What happens after that?” I asked, the question catching in my throat. “After I heal… I can go my own way?”

I wasn’t sure why I asked it, or why the thought of leaving made my chest ache.

Samuel studied me for a moment, his eyes softening. “If you like.”

His words echoed in my mind. He didn’t sound worried. Maybe he wasn’t concerned about me straying far from him.

Maybe he knew something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Maybe… I wasn’t ready to leave.