Page 48 of Witch’s Wolf (Bound by the Howl #2)

48

ERICA

“ I ’ve got a week off from work. Let’s go to Jamaica, Cuba, wherever in the tropics you want.”

Sam doesn’t waste time. Not even hours after Helena’s battle with Roberta, he’s already thinking about an escape. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been a no-brainer. I love the Caribbean. I’ve only been there once, but I’ve missed it ever since. Warm weather, pristine beaches, food so good it lingers in your memory. Who wouldn’t want that?

This past week has been the most turbulent of my life. It’s left me reeling, trying to process everything. Roberta’s madness, the lengths she went to destroy everything I love. She took my father. She took a boyfriend from me. Tried to take Sam.

The idea of jetting off somewhere beautiful feels… wrong. Too soon. But there is one place I do want to go. Back to New York City. The thought crystallizes in the dead of night, when the past refuses to let me sleep. The solution isn’t to run away to paradise. It’s to go home.

I have more than a few reasons. Not the least of which is I’ve barely lived in my new house. With all the back and forth to the mountains, I haven’t had time to settle, to make it mine. And then there’s the Hudson River. Specifically, the piers. I used to spend hours there, letting the breeze wash over me, losing myself in the view. Alone. With friends. It didn’t matter. It was my place.

When I tell Sam, he’s confused. Which, I get it, I talked about the tropics, about Bolivia, about everywhere but here. When I insist, he puts aside his personal feelings. And, like he always does, decides to indulge me.

Pier 46 buzzes with life on this cool, late-May evening. The benches are packed, people pressed shoulder to shoulder. Joggers weave through the crowds, headphones in, lost in their own worlds. Kids shriek and chase each other while exhausted parents struggle to keep up.

Sam looks… bewildered. His sharp eyes scan the chaos, his body too tense, like he’s ready to bolt. The only familiar thing around him is the sparse scattering of trees.

“You look like a fish out of water,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow.

“And here I thought shifters were loud,” he says, eyes on a man shouting at his son.

Sam winces. “Two minutes of this, and my eardrums are going to burst.”

“Well… I’ve been in your comfort zone for a while now. Thought it was time for you to see mine. Do you like it?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze settles on the river, watching the water ripple beneath the dimming sky.

“I like that,” he admits. “It’s a lot wider than any river I’ve seen.” He looks up and his lips twitch. “And them. He gestures at two seagulls swooping past a nearby fishing boat. “We don’t have seagulls.”

A breeze lifts my hair, cool against my skin. I breathe in and let it fill me.

“I can’t get enough of this,” I murmur. “I almost feel sorry for you. Thirty years old, and this is your first time here? I don’t know if I could live without coming to the pier every once in a while.”

Sam’s fingers tighten around mine, his thumb tracing slow circles over my knuckles.

“I had other things you didn’t have growing up,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’m not bragging or anything. I’m just…”

“Pointing out what’s important,” I finish for him. “What was it like, Sammy? Growing up with a mom and dad?”

He exhales, his gaze drifting toward the water.

“It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows,” he says as we stop behind the pier railing. “My folks used to fight sometimes. Nothing too bad. They’d wait until we were in bed, but we could still hear them through the door.” A small, distant smile tugs at his lips. “My dad was rough around the edges. My mom was a lot mellower.”

“I get that,” I say softly. “But they loved you to death, didn’t they?”

I know the answer before he nods.

“Yeah, they did.” He turns, his expression serious. “You should stop thinking about the past. Remembering what you didn’t have won’t let you move forward. It won’t let you see the love that’s still around you.”

“Like what?”

“Like the love of a godmother for her godchild.”

The words catch me off guard. Disappointment flickers through me, though I’m not sure why.

“What?”

“Monica’s pregnant,” he says, watching my reaction closely. “She and Raul told me this morning when I stopped by to borrow some coffee.”

“That’s fantastic!” I burst out, grinning wide only for it to fade just as quickly. “Wait… then why didn’t she tell me?”

“She can’t decide between you and Stacy,” he explains. “Just so you know, I suggested you both christen the kid together.”

“Thanks, but, uh…” My eyes drop to his chest as something nags at me. “You said ‘sorts’ of love. Plural.”

“I meant my love for you,” he says, smiling and leaning in, his hand slipping from mine.

“Your…?” I whisper, my heart slamming against my ribs.

“Yeah.” His voice is warm, steady, and soothing even as it sends a rush of exhilaration through me. “I love you, Erica. I knew it the moment I saw you crying in the woods. I felt this…” he hesitates, searching for the right words. “Flutter in my chest, I’ve never felt this before.”

“I love you, too,” I murmur, throat tight with emotions as I let myself sink into the tenderness of his gaze. “Just… don’t ask me when I realized it. I have no idea.”

“Fine. I won’t,” he chuckles, low and rich.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out something green and gleaming. He holds it up and I see it’s a large locket. It has an intricate engraving of a snowy mountaintop on the cover. The chain shimmers under the pier lights, pristine.

Click.

The locket pops open, revealing delicate script etched into the metal.

Mates Forever.

“My mother left me this in her will,” Sam says quietly. My pulse thunders loud in my ears, my breath catches in my throat. “We can take dozens of pictures and you can choose whichever you like. All you have to do is say yes.”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation, without thought. It’s instinct, need. It’s truth that resonates with the universe. “I want to be your mate. Forever, Sam. I want it more than anything in the world.”

A slow, breathtaking smile spreads across his face. His eyes glisten. Despite the crowds around us it feels as if there is only the two of us. Alone in our own, perfect universe.

“Erica, you make me happy. You are my heart and my soul.”

In one fluid motion he unclasps the chain and then lays the cool metal to my neck. The locket settles against my skin. It has a weight far beyond what its physical matter could ever have. It’s his claim, his mark on me. His hands frame my face, rough palms warm against my cheeks. The world fades. The distant cries of seagulls, the murmur of the Hudson, the city’s ever-present hum.

Then, his lips meet mine. Soft. Intentional.

The wind sweeps tendrils of my hair across my cheek as I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him close. And in this moment, as his kiss deepens, one conviction burns bright in my heart?—

I am exactly where I am meant to be.