Page 42 of Witch’s Wolf (Bound by the Howl #2)

42

ERICA

I t’s been slightly more than a day since I last saw Sam. I know this, but even so, sitting here in his cabin, wrapped in his presence, it feels like it’s been a week, maybe longer. Back when I told him to leave me in New York, I wasn’t thinking about how much I’d miss him.

He’s in danger, has been in danger. An invisible axe has been hanging over him since we got involved. I didn’t know it and didn’t want to believe it when I did. Even worse, it’s not just him. His whole town, every member of his pack, is under threat. If he and his pack don’t stop Roberta, Dawson will fall into the hands of Adrian Dexter’s pack.

When he gets home at last, he’s calm. Impossibly calm. There’s not a hint of tension or fear in his expression or voice. Maybe he’s just good at hiding it. A lot of men are, but this is Sam. He’s never been one to hold back. Sam is the proverbial bull in the China shop when it comes to his emotions. Blunt, honest, and direct.

When he tugs me onto the couch and tells me to lay my head on his lap, I don’t hesitate. And somehow, in the span of ten minutes, he gives me something I haven’t had in a long time. The biggest thing that Roberta stole from me.

Peace.

The simple comfort of knowing he’s here, that we’re together, is enough to pull me under and I fall into a deep, restful sleep. When I wake up, the sun is streaming through the windows. I’m stiff from lying on his lap on the couch, but that sense of peace remains.

“Good morning,” Sam murmurs, playing with my hair.

“Why didn’t you wake me? We should have gone to bed,” I ask, pushing off his lap.

I roll my neck and shoulders to work out the kinks, but his grin distracts me. His eyes drink me in and the way he looks at me makes my heart beat faster. My mouth is instantly as dry as if I’ve been eating sand.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a whisper.

“Sam…” I breathe his name, heart thundering.

What do I say to that? He brushes my hair away from my face, leaning in and claiming my lips.

“Erica…” he responds, his warm breath passing over my cheeks, a wry smile on his face. “Let’s go out. A proper date.”

“A date?” I ask, shocked out of the bliss of the moment. “Are you kidding? Sam, she’s out there. We can’t just go out on a date. You’re crazy.”

“Fuck her,” he says, shrugging. “You’re my girl. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let your crazy mother stop me from doing what I want and what I want is to take you out.”

Disbelief leaves me with nothing. I try to form an argument, but I’ve got nothing. He hooks a hand behind my neck, leaning in until our foreheads rest against each other.

“The pack…”

“They’ll be fine,” he says. “Raul will make sure of it.”

“Sam… you know if she sees us together it will trigger her. We can’t know that she won’t…”

“Erica Connors,” he says, pulling back, his voice deepening to his serious tone. “Are you saying you don’t want to go on a date with me? Oh my God, have you been using me for…”

He drops his eyes to his crotch before meeting mine again. His words, the tone, everything about his mock sincerity makes me crack. I can’t be serious when he’s like this.

“Well… you do have your uses,” I smile, pointedly looking at his pants.

I laugh and he does too. It’s cathartic.

“Seriously,” he says, switching gears. “The pack will be close enough to keep us safe. You need this, Erica. Hell, I need this. We haven’t had a moment alone… besides… well, you know. I want to treat you right, Miss Connors.”

“You’re impossible,” I say, cupping his face in my hand.

“I am a shifter werewolf, by your old standards I think I would definitely fit into that category.”

“Fine, where?” I ask, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.

“This isn’t the city,” he says, “so fine dining is pretty much out unless you count the wings at Joe’s.”

“They are good,” I agree.

“But I was thinking something more private,” he says. “Something for us. What would make you happy?”

There’s only one place I want to go with him. Back to where we first came together. The place that, in my head at least, is now our place.

“Lake Paxton,” I say without hesitation.

“Your wish is my command,” he agrees with a grin that I can only describe as wolfish.

He takes my hand and pulls me out of the cabin. Putting on helmets, he fires up his Harley and we head towards the lake. I look around a couple of times, but I don’t see anyone following. The worry gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, but I keep it to one side. I do need this time, more than I realized.

He turns off the main road. The smaller, but well maintained one leads down to the lake. I look around while he drives. The wind blowing in my face carries the scents of elm, cedar and balsam fir. The sun is shining bright and everything is green, spring in full bloom.

He parks the bike and helps me off. We stow our helmets and then walk along one of the many trails, hand in hand. We don’t talk, just walk. Quiet, our attention on each other and the beauty that surrounds us. The trail winds through the trees until it emerges onto a cliff that overlooks the lake.

Sam takes us to the edge, putting his arm around my shoulders. I lean against him, acutely aware of the way we fit. As if we were made perfect for one another.

Is it this way for everyone? Does that mean we’re meant to be together?

My thoughts wander as we stare out across the shimmering water. A fish jumps up, splashing, carried on the soft breeze that rustles the trees. I take a deep breath and let it slowly out.

This is perfect. I could be happy doing this with him. Forever. Except…

The fear nibbling away inside of me comes front and center and I can’t avoid it any longer. Sam senses it because he tightens his arm, pulling me closer.

“This is probably the wrong time to ask, but I will anyway,” Sam says, his voice steady. “If Roberta forces you to engage her. Will you do it?”

“I already did,” I say. “And I’ll do it again if I have to.”

“Yeah,” he nods, but there’s a low rumble in his chest and I hear his heart speeding up.

I straighten in his arms, shifting so I can look at him, turning from the beauty before us to face the darkness that is closing in.

“But, Sam, there is a problem. She’s strong. A lot stronger than I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. I did manage to pin her against the wall, but it was… maybe ten seconds. And she freed herself without even moving a finger.”

Sam huffs a heavy exhale, but there’s a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“You’ve got grit,” he says, brushing a stray hair from my face. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not listening,” I say, stepping out from under his arm. “She beat me without trying. She’s strong Sam. You faced her, you can’t be so casual about this.”

He frowns and shakes his head then places both hands on my shoulders.

“I’m not,” he says. “But right now, for this little bit of time, let’s put her aside.”

I stare at him with my jaw hanging slack. Calm and steady is one thing, but set her aside? Forget the fact that a witch powerful enough to kill two shifters and best Helena is intent on killing the man I'm falling hard for?

“Sam—”

“No, Erica. This,” he holds up one finger and circles it in the air between us, “is for us. You. Me. No Roberta. No pack. No fucking vampires. Us. Me. You. Okay? All of that is there,” he points off to the side. “Not here,” he points at the ground between us. “Okay?”

I blink, chew my lip, then nod as the wisdom of his words push through.

Okay,” I agree, and he smiles.

“I’m looking forward to this summer. Forget what you're used to in the city, it never gets that hot up here. Do you realize that there are three rivers around Shandaken? I’ve got a feeling you’ll love them all.” His smile turns wolfish and desire flames in his eyes. “And I can’t wait to see you in a bikini.”

“That sounds great,” I say, meeting his gaze though my skin is heating up, “but I was thinking of something else. Something more tropical, like Cuba or Jamaica. You ever been to the tropics?”

“You’re talking to a mountain man,” he chuckles. “This is our comfort zone. We don’t leave it unless we absolutely have to. The only one in my family who’s been anywhere near the tropics is Nora. She has a couple of human friends down there.”

“Well, that’s going to change,” I say lightly, stepping back under his arm and turning to stare across the lake. “You need to see more of the world. The mountain is beautiful, but there’s so much more out there. A lot more.”

“What are the tropics like?” he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Wonderful,” I say without hesitation. The rhythmic sound of water hitting the shore is the perfect backdrop for easy conversation. “They’re warm, all the time, but it rains a lot, especially in the rainy season. Sometimes it’s so humid you feel like you’re breathing water.” I shrug. “But I guess you can’t have it all, can you?”

“True,” Sam says. The lake’s surface is as smooth as glass. I lean forward to see the shore below us, lined with large rocks. Their edges softened by years of water lapping against them. The water is so clear that the reflection of the trees ripples across it. A scene so perfect it could have been painted by Bob Ross.

I snort, partly from amusement, partly in surprise.

“It’s funny. Every time I thought of the word ‘lake,’ I pictured something completely different. Murky water, floating logs, and mud everywhere.” I sweep my hand toward the shimmering expanse. “This? This is nothing like that.”

“That’s because it rains a lot around here,” he says, eyes on the water. “It doesn’t have time to get dirty.” He stiffens, turning his head back towards the trees. “I hear movement. That means?—”

He doesn’t get to finish. Eight pairs of glowing yellow eyes peer from the bushes, half-hidden by the trees. Watching. Waiting. Their attention fixed on Sam.

“Get out of here,” he commands, waving them off. “Head up the path. I’ll call if I need you.”

They hesitate only for a moment before melting back into the trees. I turn to him, folding my arms over my chest.

“Just so you know, I’m not worried about Roberta attacking us out here,” I say.

“You’re not? Why?” he asks, one eyebrow arching.

“Her little show back in Dawson proved one thing.” I slow my words, replaying every awful moment of that night. “She loves theatrics. Big audiences, maximum shock factor. I guess I got that from her.”

My lips curl into a wry smile, the irony of it not lost on me. Sam shakes his head.

“I said I didn’t want to talk about her anymore tonight,” he says, his voice soft as he steps closer, fingers grazing up my arms. His touch sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. “That scent of yours? It’s killing me.”

I laugh, slipping my arms around his neck.

“Really? How’s it doing that?”

“It’s your life force,” Sam murmurs, his gaze boring into me. The hunger in him sends a shiver through me. “You're happy, which means you smell like a breathing, walking cinnamon cookie. I don’t know if I want to kiss you or take a bite out of you.”

I laugh and drop my head, shaking it.

“Wow, way to be romantic, Sammy. That was… something.”

“Oh, I can be romantic,” he says, his voice rich with certainty. “I want to go back to Michelle’s, just to hear you sing again. You might like big audiences, but just once, I’d like to be the only one in the room, the only one enjoying the show.” He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “My Siren’s show.”

His words steal my breath, my amusement vanishing in an instant. I don’t have words to answer him, so I don’t.

A soft breeze sweeps against my skin as I tip my head up. Our lips meet and his warmth seeps into me. My hands roam over his shoulder blades, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. Wrapped in his arms, I don’t need eight, ten, or even twenty bodyguards. He’s all I need.

We both know how vulnerable we are out here. How easily everything could go wrong. And yet, Sam is here. Standing beside me. Ready for anything.

I slide my fingers into his hair, my forehead pressing against his as I whisper the only truth I can give him.

“I’m staying with you. I won’t do what Monica did to your brother. I know I don’t deserve your trust after screwing up with you but believe me—I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands tighten at my waist, reassuring, locking me into this moment with him.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet vow. “Because I’m not going anywhere, either. We’ll face this together. And whatever else comes our way.”

“And what do you think that might be?” I murmur, easing back just enough to study his face. “You’ve already taken on vampires and witches. What’s next?”

A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“You’re in my world now, Erica,” he says, his voice dipping into something near a growl. “You won’t get bored. I can promise you that much.”

Before I can tease him about his dramatics, a howl rips through the valley, long and commanding. It sends a shiver skittering down my spine. Sam’s head snaps toward the west, his entire body going rigid.

“I’m sorry. We have to leave,” he says, tone sharp with urgency. “Come on. And have to hurry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I say, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I wanted time alone with you, and I got it. Let’s go.”

We jog up the bank, the rustling of bushes and the agitated barks and yips of wolves filling the air. They heard the call too. The Alpha’s command.

I swallow my frustration. I wouldn’t have minded a slow walk around the lake, a few more stolen touches, but I won’t complain. I got more than I could have hoped for. A moment of intimacy and a chance to say things I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to.

And I don’t know when, or if, I’ll get another one.