23. Sammie

CHAPTER 23

SAMMIE

A fter a week of driving, we pull into the driveway in front of Lewis's house. Tired and stiff, I climb from the car and stretch my back. The air here is warm and moist compared to the dry, frigid forest surrounding the cabin we spent almost two weeks in.

Two weeks.

Pressure builds in my chest, closing up my throat. It is only a matter of days before the full moon. I follow Lewis inside to where Denver waits on the sofa, whiskey in hand, one glass poured and waiting on the side table. He plucks it from the side table and throws down the amber liquid. Denver stands and puts his drink down, pulling his brother into a hug. He stiffens and releases him. I move to stand beside Lewis as Denver's gaze alternates between us.

"Good to see you in one piece, Samantha," Denver says, stepping into my space and hugging me.

"You can call me Sammie, Denver."

His scent is overwhelming, and I suppress the urge to recoil from his grip. He sighs and removes his hold. Gaze tracking to his brother, he shakes his head. Lewis laces his fingers through mine, eyes burning into his brother's. Denver's eyes widen before scanning me up and down. He is looking for damage. He has realized what we did. We acted on the bond. We made it through the joining. I made it.

"Lewis." He runs a hand through his hair. "Saman—Sammie, give us a minute, will you?"

I lean into Lewis, and he says, "Go ahead, Denver."

He hesitates. "Fuck, Lew. She has your scent all over her!"

I step forward. "I think you mean Lewis and Sammie. It's not his fault; I was there too, Denver."

"Den," Lewis starts.

Denver holds a hand up and walks toward the hearth. I turn back to my mate. His brows are pulled down, his mouth a thin line. My gut flips. What if he regrets everything that happened in the cabin now that we are home? I fumble my pendant with shaking fingers. Lewis releases my hand and stalks to where Denver is leaning on the mantel with one arm, a fresh glass of whiskey in his other hand.

"Did you find someone to break the curse?" Lewis asks.

"No." Denver drags his stare from the fire to his brother's face. "Not one witch was willing to go up against Anjelica. And there is something you need to see..." He holds his phone up for Lewis to see.

"Jesus Christ, Den. When did you find that?"

"Yesterday. Remember her?" Denver's voice is soft, broken.

Lewis runs his hands down his face and slides them behind his neck before walking to the sofa and sinking onto it. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His blond hair hangs around his face.

What did he see on the phone? Remember who?

No. This is not happening. How does Anjelica have the market on all things magical? Why is everyone scared of her? Even these boys, who have abilities far greater than any other species on the planet, are running from her.

"Why not?" I ask.

Both brothers snap their focus to me.

"Why not what?" Denver says.

"Why is everyone afraid of her?"

"Sammie," Lewis utters.

"No! She can't possibly be indestructible."

"No one has been close enough to do damage to Anjelica. She is the cruelest witch to ever have practiced. Many have wanted her dead, but those who try don't last long enough to inflict any significant damage to her."

"What is her power?"

"She wields most strains of magic. But her strongest is mind control and dark magic, shadow magic."

Oh.

Deflated, I pad to the sofa and sit by Lewis. He throws me a small, forced smile and bumps my shoulder with his.

Denver turns from the hearth. "If we split you up, hopefully she won't come after Sammie before the next full moon."

"No! Not an option. Lewis has a handful of days left. There's no way he is going through this alone."

"He won't be alone, Sammie; he will have me."

Air lodges behind the stone that rose to my throat with my last heartbeat. I push from the sofa and stand between the brothers on shaky legs. "Please, I want to stay here until the full moon."

Lewis's face is wrecked, his gaze fixed to the floor, hands clasped in front of his face.

Denver shakes his head. "It's not safe for you here, Sammie."

"I don't care! I am not leaving him!"

"That's the bond talking," Denver says softly.

I storm into his space. "Fuck the stupid bond! I am not leaving him to die alone." My words have turned to a growl, tears burning behind my eyes. My shaking hands ball to fists by my sides.

"Denver, take her home to her family," Lewis says, his voice a low rasp.

"No! I am not leaving."

"Losing my brother is horrific enough, Sammie. Him losing his mate because Anjelica finds out and feels like torturing him in his last days... " Denver crosses his arms over his chest, but his jaw feathers.

Zahli.

Everything he has watched his brother go through—the good, the beautiful, and the tragic—must be dragging back up every single moment he had with her and their bond. I swallow and look at Lewis. If me being gone will prevent Anjelica from using me to hurt him, I'll go.

But I fucking hate it.

I move to stand in front of Lewis. He looks up, his brown eyes dark with pain and loss already. I cup his face and bend to rest my forehead on his. "Hey."

"Sunshine, please do this for me."

I nod, trying to strangle back the sob growing in my throat. "Okay."

"I'll get some cover for you. You can't travel with Lewis's scent all over you. Someone is bound to pick up on it and tattle to the bitch."

Denver walks off, tapping his phone before speaking to someone. Lewis stands and folds me into his chest. I sob into his sweater, and he sinks his face into my hair. I breathe him in and grip his arms tight, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of his sweater. God, what I wouldn't do to go back to the cabin. Even if was only for the last days he has left.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock rattles the door, and Denver gets up to answer it. I lay on the sofa, head in Lewis's lap while he strokes my hair, staring at nothing. I wish I could help. I wish I was able to save him. So far, all I can manage is manipulating elements. My spell work is not good. Not like Serena's.

"Come in, Axel." He steps back from the door, allowing in a built guy, the same height as himself, with dark hair, a wide face, and broad shoulders. The man steps inside and nods to Lewis. Lewis flinches, and I push off his lap to sit up on the sofa.

"What's going on?" I ask.

Denver leads Axel into the living room.

"Lewis." Axel nods. His gaze darts between the brothers.

"Axel." Lewis tenses and stands, pulling me up beside him, tucking me into his side.

Axel rubs a hand behind his neck and glances at me before turning to Denver. "You sure this is okay?"

"At this point, man, we don't have another choice."

"Ahhh, okay. Lew, I'm on your side. Right, bro?" Axel says.

Lewis all but growls at him. "Fine," he grinds out.

Denver gestures for me to step forward.

"What happens now?" I ask.

"Axel is going to hold you for a minute or two. To cover Lewis's scent. He will have to bite you once to make sure his scent is stronger than lover boy's." Denver winks. He is trying to lighten the mood. Lewis is all but strung out. His eyes have darkened, hands fisted by his side.

"Get on with it, Axel."

I back up and Lewis stands in front of me. I don't want another male to touch me. Bile rises in my throat.

"Lew," Denver says, stretching out a hand to his brother, "she will be a sitting duck if we don't do this."

Lewis snarls, his breaths ragged and short.

I swallow and step around him. The last thing he needs is to be put through more torture by Anjelica because of me. I step into Axel's space and meet his gaze. "Go ahead."

Axel glances at Lewis and then to Denver before pulling me into his hold, running his hands over my back. I tamper the shudder twisting through my center. He turns me so I am facing Lewis and wraps his arms around me, hands tracing over my belly.

My breath stops. Lewis falters on the spot, and Axel freezes. Denver is behind his brother in an instant, arms wrapped around him in an iron grip a second later. Axel runs a hand over my chest and a whimper leaves my throat. Denver struggles as Lewis bucks in his hold.

"Sorry, darlin'," Axel says, sweeping my curls from my neck, his hands shaking.

I close my eyes and let the tears burn down my cheeks. The sting from his bite steals the last of my breath.

Lewis roars.

Denver is yelling at him to calm down.

"You want her to die? Because that's what will happen if Anjelica finds your scent all over her!"

I open my eyes.

Lewis stares at me. Tears cut over his jaw; his hands are gripping his brother's arms, his eyes devastated and dark. His canines are down. He trembles in Denver's grip.

Axel pulls his mouth from my neck. A sweep of dizziness claims me, and I steady myself on his arm.

"All done. Sorry, lovely." He dips his head and nods to Denver and flees the house so fast he is nothing more than a blur.

Lewis looks ready to kill him.

I step toward Lewis, and Denver holds up a hand. "You can't touch him, Sammie. Unless you want to go through it all over again?"

What?

I sob where I stand.

No, please, no.

I can't even say goodbye.

My heart cracks in two.

Lewis stands, stunned.

"I'll grab your things. Make your way straight to my truck. Don't touch the Mustang."

My ears ring. His words are muffled but I manage to nod. Denver releases Lewis and runs for his keys and jacket. I step toward Lewis and stop a few feet short. Not where I want to be at all.

Tilting my head to the side and forcing a smile, I suck in a breath. "I'll see you soon." I raise a hand, but don't touch him.

He stares at my hand before returning his gaze to my face. I turn back and fold my arms around myself. My entire body is numb. Every step away from him is wrong.

"Sunshine," Lewis rasps.

I stop, looking back.

"I'll see you soon," he whispers, but the words wobble. I don't think even he believes it. I nod and wander through the front door. Denver waits in the truck, running on a rough idle, watching me teeter down the steps and to his truck. He leans over, pushing the door open for me, and I climb in. My belongings sit in the tray. I pull the door closed with shaking hands. The lump in my throat makes each shallow breath difficult.

"Ready?" he asks. His words are soft. Brows pulled down, he glances to the porch. I follow his focus. Lewis stands, arms hanging by his sides, jaw clenched, eyes pained.

I turn to face Denver. "If I do this, can you promise me you will figure out a way to keep him safe?"

His face falls. "Sam?—"

I suck in a breath, swallowing a sob, and slam my eyes shut.

"For what it is worth, I am glad my brother found his mate and had happiness, despite its brevity."

I choke through a sob as he slides the truck into gear and gravel crunches under the tires.

We drive for an hour before I work up the mettle to say what I think. How can they submit to this witch? Two weeks of happiness out of three hundred years of life is nowhere near fair. Anger courses through my body, reddening my neck, sending a quake through my hands.

"How can you just sit back and watch him die?" I snap.

Denver's gaze doesn't leave the road. "We have been trying to crack this for centuries, Sammie. It's not like we haven't tried."

"Someone must be able to fix this, to beat her. Giving up shouldn't be your only option. Our only option."

He turns and studies my face; a sad smile pulls over his lips. "It's more complicated than just letting her win." He returns his focus to the road.

"Then explain it to me, please."

He glances at me and slows, pulling the truck over before pushing the stick into park. "You want to know why Lewis is letting this play out?"

"Yes, why doesn't he fight?"

"Normally, my brother would scour the earth to oppose Anjelica. And he has, most of his life, until weeks ago."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about you, Samantha. Things were different when it was only him. Then he met you. His mate."

"If anything, that should make him more determined. Or am I not worth it because I'm a witch?"

He huffs a strained laugh.

"What? How can you find any part of this funny, Denver?"

His face turns to stone. "Trust me, girl, I don't. Not a single bit. Lewis is the only family I have. But he made a choice to protect you even it means he?—"

"Means he what?!"

He stares through the windscreen, jaw tight.

Every word Lewis said to me over the past few weeks flies through my head. The Council. Interspecies relationships being banned. The punishments for acting on a mating bond between species. If he dies, they can't prove our bond. Or it is no longer a concern. No...

"Denver, no . . ."

"It's his choice, Sammie."

"Like hell it is. It takes two to make a bond. The burden belongs to both of us." My voice is rough, angry, and broken.

"Let's get you home." He shifts the truck into gear and pulls back onto the road.

They never intended to give me a choice.

Another thirty minutes later, we pull into the driveway of my family home. Denver's gaze wanders as he takes in the large colonial-style home. I fling the door open and jump out, pulling at my bag with rage and hurt fueling my thoughts. How dare he make such a huge decision without me? It's not only him who this affects.

I wanted this bond, just as much as he did. It's my burden as much as his. He might think he is keeping me safe; he couldn't be more wrong. Losing my mate wouldn't be hard, it would be devastating.

Losing Lewis would be devastating.

My bag snags on the tub of the truck. My arms hang over the side, and I drop my head onto them, burn prickling behind my eyes.

Denver reaches over beside me and plucks the bag up. He stands, holding it out for me. I push off the vehicle and force a smile. Taking my bag from his hands, I hesitate, wondering if I should beg him to keep trying.

"I'll see you, Sammie," he mutters and rounds the truck. He backs down the driveway and shoves the vehicle into drive. For a moment, the truck is still and he stares at me as if thoughts are running through his head. Finally, he pulls out from the curb and rolls down the road.

I lug my bags up the steps and onto the porch. It is so good to be home. But the ache in my chest since I moved from Lewis's side earlier pulls tighter, reminding me why I am home. I push through the front door and call out for Mom.

"Kitchen," her voice comes before quick footsteps. She appears from the door to the kitchen. "Sammie! What are you doing here, baby? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, Momma," I choke.

She has her hands around me, pulling me into a tight hug before my next breath. "What is it, sweetheart?"

I sob into her shoulder, letting my heart shatter. She pushes back, holding me at arm's length, studying my face. Hers pulls into a frown. "What has you this upset? You can tell me, baby."

I shake my head. Mom and I have never had secrets. But we don't share every single aspect of our lives, either.

"Is it school? Is it too difficult?" She tilts her head.

I shake my head.

"Is Serena okay? You two are okay?"

I nod.

She sucks in a breath. "A boy?"

I have had boyfriends before. I am no stranger to the opposite sex, but somehow the word boyfriend feels wrong, too insignificant for Lewis. When I don't respond, she steers me by the shoulders to the living room, depositing me on the sofa. She sits beside me, rubbing my hands. I want to ask her so many things. About magic-related things. Species related. About her and Dad.

"Was Daddy your mate?" I choke out.

She startles, like the word mate is akin to something from a horror movie that produces jump scares on the regular. Her eyes widen before she composes herself and schools her face. "What's brought this on?"

"Answer the question, Momma." My voice is pained and my hands shake.

She shuffles closer to me and takes my hands again. "Your father and I are mates. But... " She hesitates, staring out the window toward the road for a moment before turning back. "It wasn't what most people imagine a mating bond to be. We couldn't stand each other. We came from very different families. Different covens. Before most of them disbanded, at least."

"But you two are inseparable?"

She chuckles. "We are now. Why do you ask?" Her brows draw down again and her head tilts.

"My mating bond snapped," I say, the words almost a whisper.

"At college? With another witch?"

How could I tell her the truth? She would be beside herself if she knew I was bonded with a vampire, one who was three hundred years old, on death row, and we consummated our bond. "Yep, he is in one of my classes." Not a total lie. Lewis is definitely part of my classes.

"That's wonderful! Which coven is he from? Is he in one?"

"No coven. Only him and his brother." I force a smile.

God, I hate myself right now.

"A mating bond is a wonderful thing. But you take things at your pace. Don't let him force you to act on it. Did he force you? Is that why you were upset? That can take as long as it needs. Months, years, whatever it takes."

How about three weeks? And Lewis never forced me to do anything. If anyone was a bad influence, it was me. Her face turns expectant.

"He didn't force me, not at all. I should unpack; I'll be here for midterm break." I stand, my skin crawling at the web of deception I am spinning. Not trusting myself not to say too much, I grab my bags from the hallway and take the stairs two at a time.

"Come back down for supper later, honey," Mom calls, moving back into the kitchen.

I walk into my room and shut the door behind me with a foot. I drop the bag and lean back on the door. My thoughts turn to Lewis. The ache in my chest intensifies. I drop to my knees and shove my head into my hands. Sobs cascade, one after the other. I grip my shirt and slump to the floor. I never should have left him. I can't breathe without Lewis. The crushing realization he will be gone forever in a matter of days steals the last of my ragged breath.

I lie on my side in the center of my bedroom, every muscle tensing until they cramp. We only had moments of happiness, a few measly weeks. Only a handful of nights together. The sweetest thing I have ever had, to be only allowed a glimpse before it was ripped from my hands.

With a swell of wind, I propel my pillow toward me, catching it with both hands. I hug it to my heaving chest and bury my face into it, letting out a scream that destroys my heart and buries my soul in the depths of anger.

And there is only one way to retrieve it.

One person who can bring it back.

Lewis.