Page 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

SAMUEL

I took a deep breath, considering my options.

I couldn’t shift, not this close to town; a dragon the size of a house would draw more than a few curious eyes.

I needed a subtler approach, at least for now.

As I weighed the options, a faint cry reached my ears, breaking the tension. Blake heard it too, his head swiveling toward the sound.

We exchanged a glance, our instincts aligned, and we both looked toward the source.

The thick bushes parted, and our worst fears were confirmed: a little girl, no more than five or six, stumbled into the clearing, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh no…” Blake murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

He looked as though he’d been struck, his face sheet white. I could only hazard a guess at what had happened here.

Judging by the bloodied state of the man’s clothes back there, they’d likely been hiking when the beast had attacked them.

To protect his daughter, he must have ordered her to hide while he attempted to fend off the wolf.

My heart twisted, though I tried to remain focused.

Blake looked horrified, and for a moment, I questioned his resolve. Was he as hardened as he claimed?

But there was no time to ponder that now. Our first priority was the child, and we could deal with the rogue wolf right after.

“Blake—” I began, preparing to tell him I’d handle the wolf while he took the child to safety.

But the beast, perhaps sensing it was outnumbered and backed into a corner, shifted its attention.

Its eyes locked on the girl, and in a swift, vicious motion, it lunged.

“No!” Blake shouted, moving like a flash.

He threw himself between the girl and the wolf, his body a shield.

I watched as the wolf’s jaws clamped onto Blake’s arm, its teeth sinking deep, tearing into muscle.

A sharp spike of pain lanced through my own arm, a side effect of our bond. Fury washed over me, hot and all-consuming.

In an instant, I was on the wolf, my hands transforming, claws emerging from my fingertips.

I grabbed the wolf by the scruff, yanking it backward, forcing it to release Blake.

The beast snarled, struggling against me, but I wasn’t about to let it win.

“Get the girl out of here!” I shouted over my shoulder.

Blake, holding his bleeding arm, nodded, quickly scooping the little girl into his arms and backing away.

The wolf thrashed, twisting in my grip, its teeth snapping dangerously close to my face.

I leaned back, feeling the power of the dragon roiling beneath my skin, the heat building in my chest.

I wanted to let the flames loose, to turn this rogue to ash, but I couldn’t risk hitting Blake or the girl.

Instead, I dug my claws into the wolf’s hide, and with a surge of strength, I threw it to the ground.

The wolf was up in a heartbeat, circling me, its eyes burning with defiance.

We stared each other down, and I could see the madness in its gaze. There was no salvation for this feral beast.

I bared my teeth, matching its snarl with one of my own.

It lunged again, and I met it head-on, our bodies colliding with bone-jarring force.

I felt its claws rake across my side, but I ignored the pain, focusing instead on its exposed throat.

I managed to grab it by the neck, but it writhed, snapping at my arm.

The pain was sharp, blinding, but I held on, tightening my grip.

A defiant howl rose up from the wolf’s throat, its dying breath carried on the wind.

Eventually, I snapped its neck, the sickening crack echoing through the clearing.

The wolf fell limp, its eyes glassy, its body twitching once before it lay still.

For a moment, we stood there, breathing heavily, staring down at the creature that had nearly taken Blake’s life.

Blake knelt by the little girl, speaking softly, his tone soothing.

She clung to him, her small hands fisted in his shirt, her face buried against his shoulder.

Blood seeped from Blake’s arm, staining his clothes, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice rough with the remnants of the fight.

Blake looked up, a faint smile playing at his lips. “I’ve had worse,” he said, though I could see the pain in his eyes.

He gently set the girl down, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and awe.

“You saved me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Blake smiled, reaching out to brush a tear from her cheek.

“You’re safe now,” he said softly. “But we need to get you back to town.”

I stepped forward, resting a hand on Blake’s shoulder, letting the warmth of the bond between us soothe the worry that had clawed at me since the moment he’d jumped in front of that wolf.

“Let’s get out of here,” I murmured, casting a wary glance over my shoulder.

We began to walk, the little girl nestled between us, her small hand gripping Blake’s.

But as we made our way back toward the town, a chilling sound stopped us in our tracks—a distant howl, echoing through the trees.

It was an answering call, a promise of retribution.

Blake’s eyes met mine, and I saw the same realization in his gaze.

Whatever rogue wolves remained out there, they knew what we’d done. And they wouldn’t let it go unanswered.

We quickened our pace, the weight of the moment settling heavily on our shoulders.

Although it was a short walk back to the parking lot, the forest seemed to close in around us, the trees casting long, ominous shadows.

I could feel the presence of the wolves, lurking just beyond our vision, watching, waiting.

As we reached the edge of the lot, I squeezed Blake’s shoulder, drawing his attention.

“We’ll deal with them,” I said.

He nodded, a flicker of determination lighting his gaze.

“I know,” he said.

We continued on, our steps quickening, our senses sharp.

The bond between us thrummed with a shared purpose, a silent promise that we would face whatever came next together.

As the car came into view, I felt a surge of relief, but it was momentary.

We’ll return the child to her family first, then come up with a plan to deal with the rogues, I thought.

Carin shifted uncomfortably in the backseat, refusing to answer any of my questions.

She kept her gaze on Blake, her small fingers clutching the seatbelt with a white-knuckled grip.

I’d seen fear in the eyes of people before, but this was different.

A child’s fear was pure, raw, and intense, and it twisted something deep in my chest.

I clenched the steering wheel a little tighter, aware I’d never been good with kids, human or shifter.

Somehow, they always sensed I was not quite human.

Blake leaned over his shoulder and gave her a gentle smile.

“Hey, Carin, can you tell me where you live?” Blake asked.

She glanced at me, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer.

But then she turned to Blake, her voice a whisper. “On Cedar Street… number twelve.”

“Cedar Street, number twelve. Got it,” I repeated, nodding as if to reassure her.

I guided the truck along the empty roads, the silence only broken by the hum of the engine.

As we turned onto Cedar Street, a police car came into view, lights flashing, parked in front of a small house.

Outside, a woman was speaking with an officer, her face drawn with worry, hands wringing.

Even from a distance, I could see the resemblance between her and Carin.

The girl’s face lit up as she spotted her mother.

“Mom!” she cried, her voice cracking as she struggled to unbuckle herself.

Blake quickly helped her out, and the moment I parked, Carin bolted from the truck, running to her mother.

The woman knelt down, pulling her daughter into a fierce hug, relief and disbelief flooding her face.

Blake and I got out of the truck, and I immediately noticed the officer’s gaze snap to us, particularly to Blake.

His narrowed eyes showed wariness, suspicion. It was a look I was all too familiar with.

My instinct kicked in, possessive and protective, and before I could think twice, I stepped close to Blake, sliding an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to my side.

Blake shot me a glance, a faint hint of a smirk softening his expression.

“Let me do the talking,” he murmured, low enough for only me to hear.

I nodded, easing my grip on him but not stepping back.

I had no love for law enforcement, and something about this officer rubbed me the wrong way.

But I held my tongue and let Blake take the lead.

The officer, whose nametag read Davidson , lifted a brow, his expression shifting as Blake started explaining.

“We found Carin in the forest,” Blake said, his tone calm, measured. “Along with her…father.”

Davidson’s face softened as he glanced down at Carin, still wrapped in her mother’s embrace.

He nodded slowly, as if piecing together a puzzle, and then he turned back to us, his gaze lingering on the blood on Blake’s sleeve.

“This is a lot to take in,” Davidson said, shifting his weight.

“I’d like to hear more, but maybe back at the station? I can get someone out to retrieve…” Davidson hesitated, clearly struggling with the words, “...the father.”

Blake and I exchanged a look. I could sense his reluctance, mirroring my own.

I’d had enough dealings with local authorities to know they could be more trouble than help.

But then Davidson added, “Please.” The hardness dropped from his voice, replaced by a quiet desperation. “There’ve been… more people missing recently. This isn’t the first time. We could use any help you’re willing to give.”

I swallowed my initial objection, glancing at Blake, who gave me a slight nod.

“We’ll come,” I said, my voice clipped. “But Blake’s arm needs attention first.”

Davidson nodded in agreement, seeming relieved.

He gave Carin and her mother a moment to thank us, then ushered us toward his car.

“I’ll have a medic at the station take a look,” he assured us. “It’s just down the road.”

By the time we arrived at the station, Blake’s face was pale from blood loss.

I clenched my fists as we walked in, keeping my focus on him, half expecting the officer to come out with some nonsense to delay us.

But to my surprise, Davidson kept his word.

Within minutes, Blake’s arm was bandaged, and I could breathe a little easier, though the sight of his injury still made me grit my teeth.

In Davidson’s office, Blake took the lead again. He leaned back in the chair, his movements casual, relaxed.

Watching him, you’d think he was recounting an ordinary day rather than explaining an encounter with a rogue wolf.

“We’re trained hunters,” he told Davidson, his tone as smooth as silk. “Our organization sent us here to deal with rogue wolves that have been causing disturbances.”

I watched in awe as he wove a story that sounded both truthful and impossible to refute.

Davidson nodded along, his expression serious.

He believed every word. It was impressive how naturally Blake could blend a believable story with just enough truth to make it plausible.

The sheriff finally sat back, his eyes narrowing as he considered us.

“There’ve been several brutal murders in town lately along with random fires,” he admitted, his voice low. “There’s something off about these incidents, something unnatural. I didn’t know who to turn to.”

Brutal murders and random fires, I thought grimly. So the rogue dragon and wolves weren’t exactly keeping quiet.

Blake nodded, maintaining that easy, reassuring demeanor.

“We’ve seen it before. This is what we do,” Blake told him.

After a few more questions and another silent exchange between Blake and me, Davidson seemed satisfied.

“Thank you, both of you,” he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “I’m grateful for any help you can provide.”

Back in the truck, the tension I hadn’t realized I was holding finally eased, replaced by a new appreciation for Blake.

I glanced over at him, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

“I have to admit, I’m impressed. You’re quite the smooth talker,” I told my human.

Blake chuckled, shaking his head as he looked out the window.

“It’s a skill set that’s come in handy as a hunter. We brush up against local authorities more often than you’d think. The Guild taught us to handle it,” he admitted.

A shadow passed over his face as he mentioned the Guild, but he shook it off, giving me a sideways smile.

“Not everyone’s lucky enough to have a dragon shifter by their side,” he said.

“Lucky?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow.

His smile softened. “Maybe. I’m still figuring it out.”

He turned back to the road, the words hanging between us, unspoken but understood.

At that moment, my phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I glanced at the screen, and my lead alpha’s name flashed across it.

I took a deep breath, realizing I hadn’t updated him about the situation since we’d arrived in Grey Arrow.

For a moment, I debated letting it ring and calling Zane back once we were safe in the cabin.

But there was no point in hiding this conversation from Blake. Mates didn’t keep secrets from each other, after all.

Although it might take time for him to fully accept what I was to him, starting with a foundation of trust wouldn’t hurt.

I accepted the call, keeping one hand on the wheel as I drove back.

“Samuel here.”

“Samuel,” Zane greeted me, his tone clipped and to the point. “What’s the status? Is the rogue dragon dead?”

I grimaced, already anticipating his reaction. “Not yet. Something unexpected came up.”

Zane’s voice shifted, a note of concern creeping in. “Are you injured? Do you need backup?”

I shook my head, aware that Blake was listening, even if he wasn’t looking directly at me.

“No, I’m fine,” I replied, clearing my throat. “But I’ve found my mate.”

The line went quiet for a moment. When Zane spoke again, his tone was unreadable. “Your mate?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, bracing myself for a lecture on staying focused on my task. But Zane surprised me.

“If you’ve found your mate, then he should take priority,” he said simply.

I opened my mouth, prepared to launch into explanations for why I’d deviated from my original mission, but his words made me pause.

I wasn’t sure what response I’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t this level of understanding.

Until now, I’d always thought of myself as a loner, drifting from place to place, never settling down.

Zane had once extended an invitation to join his pack permanently, to settle down in his territory in Sky Stead, but I’d turned him down.

Roots had never appealed to me. I always craved the freedom of movement, the ability to roam at will.

Zane had taken my decision in stride, reminding me that, while I might prefer solitude, having a pack to fall back on in times of need was a valuable resource.

“Understood,” I said, my voice steady. “I’ll fill you in on the details when I have a clearer picture.”

“Take care, Samuel. And remember, if you need assistance, call for it. A rogue dragon is a threat no one should face alone, even someone like you,” Zane said.

“Got it,” I replied, then ended the call.

As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, Blake turned to me with a curious expression.

“Who was that?” he asked as I steered the truck into the driveway of the cabin.

“Zane,” I answered, shutting off the engine. “He’s my lead alpha.”

Blake’s eyebrows shot up, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his gaze.

“Dragons have packs? I thought your kind was nearly extinct,” he said.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, feeling a smirk tug at my lips.

“It’s uncommon,” I admitted. “But we’re not entirely extinct. Most dragons prefer solitude, but a few of us know the value of having allies. Packs are rare, but they do exist. It’s one of the few ways we have to protect what remains of our kind.”

Blake absorbed that, his curiosity plain on his face. I could tell he had more questions—he always did.

But he simply nodded, following my lead as we stepped out of the truck.

“Let’s talk about it later,” I said, gesturing toward the cabin. “It’s been a long day, and you need to rest. That arm of yours won’t heal overnight.”

He grinned, glancing down at his bandaged arm as he followed me inside.

“I can keep up. Don’t worry about me,” Blake said.

Blake might not have fully grasped the bond we shared yet, but I could sense that, on some level, he felt it too.

And that was enough for now.

As we stepped into the cabin, I found myself hoping that, little by little, Blake would come to understand what it meant to be mine.