Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

BLAKE

When I woke sometime later, still nestled in his arms, Samuel hadn’t moved.

He was already awake, watching me with an expression so soft, so full of something unspoken, that it made my breath catch.

I reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, my fingers lingering on his cheek as I took in the warmth in his eyes.

“Hey,” I whispered, smiling at him.

A quick glance at the window showed me it was morning again. I couldn’t believe we skipped dinner and slept through the night.

He smiled back, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“Hey back,” Samuel said.

In that moment, I knew I didn’t need words.

The weight of what was unspoken passed between us, settling into something deep and real.

I pressed a kiss to his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble, savoring the simple intimacy of it, the quiet beauty of the moment.

“I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, pulling me closer, if that was even possible. “You and me, right here.”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, feeling a flutter of happiness that seemed to expand with each beat of my heart.

Just as I let myself relax, a howl pierced the air, sharp and desperate, and was immediately followed by a scream.

My eyes snapped open, and I froze, holding my breath. That voice...why did it sound vaguely familiar?

“Samuel,” I whispered, a knot of dread twisting in my stomach.

“Hm?” His tone was relaxed, unconcerned, like he hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary.

But that only made me feel more on edge.

“Did you hear that?” I asked, searching his face.

Another scream cut through the silence, closer this time, echoing through the trees and slamming into me with the force of a punch.

Samuel’s easy expression shifted, his body going tense beneath me as he sat up, listening.

The scream wasn't in my head, and from the look in Samuel’s eyes, he’d heard it too.

I scrambled to my feet, my instincts kicking into high gear as adrenaline shot through my veins.

Someone was in trouble—bad trouble.

“Someone needs our help,” I murmured, already searching the room for my clothes.

“We left our clothes in the dining room,” Samuel reminded me, his voice clipped now, all business.

I ran out ahead of him, my heart pounding as I grabbed my shirt and yanked it over my head, barely pausing to lace up my boots.

Samuel came up beside me, his face set with a deadly calm as he handed me a gun and a knife.

“What about you?” I asked, gripping the weapons, feeling the familiar weight settle in my hands.

He gave me a wry smile, his eyes gleaming.

“I have my claws—and my fire,” Samuel answered.

Right. Samuel didn’t need weapons; he was one.

We raced out the front door, and I paused just long enough to listen, to feel where the screams and howls might be coming from.

I was at a loss, every direction seeming to echo with the same unnerving sound.

Samuel, however, didn't hesitate.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head as he took a deep breath, and then, without a word, he darted into the trees.

I followed, his confidence giving me something to latch onto as we moved, each step quick and purposeful.

Branches scratched my arms as we tore through the undergrowth, the forest stretching out like a maze around us.

“Get away!” I heard someone yell, the voice breaking with fear and desperation.

A chill shot down my spine—something about that voice was so familiar. But there was no time to ponder it now.

We burst into an enormous clearing, the sudden sunlight blinding me for a moment.

When my vision cleared, I took in the scene with a surge of horror: four rogue wolves were circling a man in his twenties, his dark brown hair matted with blood, his black clothes torn and stained.

He held a lone knife, his knuckles white as he swung it, trying to keep the wolves at bay.

The wolves growled, pacing around him, their eyes gleaming with hunger, their fangs bared. But he wasn’t backing down.

Despite the numerous cuts covering him, he kept his stance firm, a grim expression on his face.

Recognition washed over me, sharp and sudden. I could hardly believe it.

“Finn!” I yelled, taking a step forward before the rage and protectiveness swelled up inside me.

My cousin—he was in danger, and the wolves weren't going to back down.

“Blake!” Finn’s eyes widened when he saw me, but there was no time for a reunion.

One of the wolves lunged, and I didn’t think, didn’t hesitate.

I took aim with the gun Samuel had given me, firing a shot that cracked through the air.

The wolf dropped with a yelp, and the others turned, their attention splitting between me and Samuel.

The wolf I shot didn’t get back up. It dawned on me that the gun was loaded with silver bullets. Nice.

I felt Samuel’s heat beside me as he partially shifted, his claws extending, eyes glinting gold as a low, rumbling growl vibrated through the ground.

The remaining wolves snarled, their instincts telling them they were now outmatched, but their bloodlust made them desperate.

One of them sprang toward me, and I dodged to the side, bringing the knife down hard.

My blade caught it along the flank, and it howled in pain, staggering backward.

I stole a glance over my shoulder, and saw Samuel engaged with another wolf, his eyes fierce, a primal rage taking over as he grappled with it, his movements swift and deadly.

I could hear the wet crunch of bones as he twisted and threw the wolf to the ground.

Why hadn’t he shifted completely? Oh right, Finn was present.

Samuel probably didn’t want to reveal what he was to a complete stranger. I understood the logic in that.

I barely had time to turn back before the next wolf lunged at me, its claws slashing down my arm, but I didn’t falter.

I shifted my grip on the knife, ducking under its weight, and plunged the blade into its side.

The wolf yelped, its body convulsing before it collapsed in a heap.

Samuel was already at my side, dispatching the last wolf with a brutal swipe of his claws, his muscles coiled with raw power.

He let out a roar that echoed through the clearing, daring any other threats to approach. But it was silent. We’d won.

Panting, I turned back to Finn, who was leaning heavily on his knife, his face pale but alive.

Relief flooded through me as I reached him, grabbing his shoulders, feeling the solid warmth of him, the confirmation that he was real.

“Finn, what the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice a mix of anger and worry.

“Looking for you,” he replied, his tone wry despite the weariness in his eyes. “What do you think? I thought you were dead, Blake.”

My chest tightened, gratitude mixing with the fury still pounding through me.

He'd risked his life, thrown himself into danger—just to find me.

Gordon probably told everyone I was dead, but knowing Finn, my cousin refused to believe him. Still, there wasn’t time to argue.

Samuel came up behind me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“We need to get out of here before more show up,” he said, his gaze darting around the clearing. “Let’s move.”

Finn nodded, his expression serious as he slipped his arm over my shoulders.

I caught his eye, giving him a small smile, and he managed a weak grin in return.

Samuel took the lead, and I fell in step behind him, supporting Finn as we made our way back through the trees.

But my mind was still racing. The danger wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

I could feel it, a prickling unease at the back of my neck, a sense of something dark watching us from beyond the trees.

The rogue dragon. The one Samuel had been hunting. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my breathing steady.

Suppressing a shiver, I wrapped an arm around Finn.

I held him close as we finally broke through the forest and into the clearing where the cabin stood.

The moment we reached the door, Samuel’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

He gave me a quick look, then nodded towards the back room, his face tight with an unspoken urgency.

“I’ll just take this,” he said, slipping away to answer the call.

Finn watched him go, his eyes narrowing as he disappeared down the hall.

Once Samuel was out of sight, Finn turned to me, a worried expression overtaking the familiar, easygoing grin I knew so well.

“Blake,” Finn whispered, casting a quick glance over his shoulder.

He kept his voice low, no doubt trying to avoid being overheard. I almost told him it was pointless—my mate had excellent hearing.

But Finn’s expression was so intense, so earnest, that I held my tongue.

“What is it?” I asked, tucking my weapons away, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline.

“Blake, what are you doing here?” he demanded, searching my face. “With him, a shifter? An enemy?”

His voice was rough, laced with worry, and it hit me like a punch.

I took a deep breath, my mind spinning as I tried to find the words to explain. How could I make him understand?

Even I couldn’t wrap my head around the twists and turns my life had taken in the last few days.

A few months ago, I would have said the same thing as Finn. Shifters were the enemy.

Especially predatory shifters—they were wild, unpredictable, and dangerous.

But now…now I was bound to one, tied in a way that went beyond anything I’d ever known.

“It’s complicated, Finn,” I began, shifting from foot to foot. “Samuel, he…he saved my life. More than once.”

I hesitated, but Finn’s expression was unyielding.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. Finn’s gaze moved to the mate mark there.

“And he’s my mate,” I finally said.

Finn’s eyes went wide, shock crossing his face, followed swiftly by a deep frown.

“Your mate? Since when do hunters take shifters as mates?” Finn demanded.

“I didn’t exactly get a choice in the matter,” I replied, half-smiling. “It just…happened.”

Finn’s expression softened a fraction, but I could still see the wariness, the doubt.

"Blake, you know what the Guild says about shifters. They’re volatile, unstable?—"

“You don’t think I know that?” I interrupted, frustration creeping into my voice. “But there’s more to it than that. Samuel isn’t like the ones we were trained to hunt. He’s saved people, he’s protected me, and…”

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “And he’s taken me as his. It means something to him, Finn. And… it means something to me too,” I said.

Finn looked away, shaking his head.

“I just don’t get it, Blake. You were the one always saying we had to protect humans from these kinds of threats. And now you’re telling me you’re with a dragon, that you’re…in love with one?” Finn asked.

I exhaled, my shoulders dropping.

“Look, I know it’s not easy to understand. But I don’t expect you to. I just need you to trust me. This isn’t like before. He’s… he’s different. I feel it,” I pointed out.

Finn’s gaze softened, a trace of the friend I’d grown up with peeking through.

“I trust you, Blake. I do. But I can’t pretend this doesn’t worry me. I don’t want to lose you, not to a dragon or anything else. And if there are more rogue wolves out there?—”

“There’s something more deadly than a pack of rogue wolves,” I said, cutting him off, “and it’s deadly. But Samuel’s here to take it down. I’m part of this now. We’re going to handle it together.”

I gave him a hard look, hoping he’d see I was completely serious.

Finn sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Alright. If you say so. Just…promise me you’ll be careful, yeah?” Finn asked.

I nodded, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Always, Finn.”