24. Sam

My skin prickles in the morning light, the tingling sensation sharpening until it becomes a searing pain, like a thousand needles stabbing into my arm. The agony forces my eyes open, and as consciousness returns, so do the memories of the night before—the violent blaze of fire and smoke, roaring flames licking at the elm trees, Nik’s dragon chasing me across the lawn...

I find myself lying on a heap of straw in the stables, my body aching and sore. Slowly, I sit up, wincing as the movement strains my arm and shoulder. “Ow!” I cry out, looking down at my forearm. The skin is tender and gleaming bright red, a painful reminder of the ordeal I’ve endured.

“Oh gods...” I groan, struggling to my feet, the burn stinging like hell. “Nik, you better keep some aloe in the kitchen,” I grumble, combing my fingers through my tangled hair as I trudge out of the stables.

It wasn’t Nik’s fault, my injury. His dragon thought it would be great fun to light up the greenhouse, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, running away from the rampaging beast like a kitten chased by an over-enthusiastic toddler. My arm brushed against the scorching metal door, and the pain was excruciating. It still is.

I climb the front steps to the porch, noting with a dull sense of surprise that the door is open. I’m too exhausted, too drained, both physically and emotionally, to puzzle out what that might mean. So I simply walk inside, my steps heavy and dragging.

As I enter the vestibule, the sound of heavy footsteps echoes from above, a frantic staccato that sets my nerves on edge. I hear doors slamming, the thud of feet pounding down the hallway, a muffled curse that carries through the stillness. Nik is searching for me, his movements erratic and desperate, and I can almost feel the panic radiating from him, the fear that grips his heart.

The footsteps grow louder, closer, until they’re thundering down the stairs, each step a hammer blow against the polished wood. And then he’s there, frozen at the top of the staircase, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and wild as they scan the room below.

For a moment, he doesn’t see me, his gaze skipping over my still form as if I’m nothing more than a shadow, a trick of the light. I stand perfectly motionless, watching him with weary eyes, taking in the disheveled state of his hair, the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, the dark circles that mar the perfection of his face.

But then, as if sensing my presence, his head snaps towards me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath. Relief and joy and terror and a thousand other emotions flicker across his face in rapid succession, each one a mirror of the chaos that reigns in my own heart.

“Sam!” Nik rushes down the stairs to meet me, his voice thick with relief and concern. “Sam, I was so worried! I’ve been looking for you all morning!”

I brace myself for the impact of his embrace, for the warmth of his arms around me and the desperate press of his lips against mine. But as he draws closer, I become acutely aware of my own disheveled state, a flush of shame heating my cheeks.

Despite the chaos of the night before, despite the fear and exhaustion that must surely be weighing on him, Nik looks as handsome and radiant as ever. But me? I’m a hot mess, my clothes filthy and torn, my skin smudged with dirt and ash. My burnt arm throbs with every beat of my heart.

And my hair... gods, my hair. It hangs in limp, tangled strands around my face, reeking of smoke and sweat. I can’t help but wrinkle my nose in disgust. I desperately need a long, hot bath.

When he reaches me, his steel blue eyes scan my body from head to toe, taking in every scrape and bruise. And then, inevitably, he notices my sore arm. Nik’s expression slackens, his eyes widening in horror as he gasps in outright dismay. “You’re injured...” he mumbles, shock giving way to a deep, aching pain that etches itself across his handsome features.

“It’s nothing...” I try to dismiss his concern, not wanting to add to the guilt I can already see weighing on his shoulders.

“Don’t say that!” he growls, his voice rough with emotion. Nik’s hand flies to his mouth, his face flushing as his eyes fill with tears, one spilling down his cheek, a wordless expression of the depths of his agony.

He tilts his head to the side, the gesture so reminiscent of his dragon form that it makes my heart clench. Nik leans closer, cupping the side of my face with his hand, his touch infinitely gentle despite the turmoil I can see raging in his eyes. “Sam,” he whispers, my name falling from his lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. “If I can’t control this beast... If I can’t... then... maybe we shouldn’t...”

I see where this conversation is headed, and a deep, visceral dread settles in the pit of my stomach. A frown creases my brow, my heart seizing in my chest. “Shut up,” I cut him off, shaking my head vehemently. “Don’t you dare say those words.” My throat clenches tight, making it hard to breathe, to think past the panic rising like bile in my throat.

“Sam, I hurt you…” he whispers, wariness deepening his pitch, his eyes shadowed with a pain that mirrors my own. “And I can’t even remember it!”

“You will be able to control it,” I assure him, smoothing a hand along his muscular arm, trying to anchor him with my touch, my certainty. “I know you will. It just... takes time.”

“Time?” He scowls, frustration and fear warring in his eyes. “I don’t even know when I will shift again... My dragon could kill you!” A glazed look of despair spreads across his face, and it breaks my heart to see him so lost, so afraid.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood, to chase away the shadows that cling to him. “It almost threw me off the terrace.”

“What?” He flinches, concern twisting his features, his hands tightening on my shoulders.

I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a deep, exasperated sigh. Why did I have to bring that up? I mentally berate myself for being so reckless. “Listen, if it’s anything like the Ursa shifting, it won’t happen anytime soon...” I try to reassure him, though I can tell my words are falling on deaf ears. “It can take months for the second shift to happen.”

Nik takes my hands in his, pressing them against his lips in a gesture that’s both tender and desperate. He lowers them slowly, his ocean eyes locked on mine, a world of emotion swirling in their depths. “I won’t put you through this, Little Bear...” he breathes, his voice breaking on the endearment. Nik purses his lips, an adorable dimple piercing his left cheek, but the resolute set of his jaw belies the pain I know he’s feeling. “I just won’t.”

I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched, the air rushing out of my lungs in a whoosh. “What are you saying?” I manage, my heart shattering into a million jagged pieces.

“I’m saying,” he whispers, each word like a dagger to my soul, “you’re better off without me. That’s what I’m saying.”

Shock reverberates through me, followed swiftly by a wave of nauseating dread. “You’re... You’re breaking up with me?”

He remains silent, his eyes saying everything his lips cannot.

Pain and worry strain me through and through, my vision blurring with unshed tears. “Nik...?” I breathe.

As my world crumbles around me, something steals my attention—a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. A familiar SUV pulls into the driveway, and my blood turns to ice in my veins as I recognize the figure behind the wheel: the fiercest Ursa fighter the Elite team has ever known.

Dima.

“Oh, fuck...” I mumble, my heart seizing with a new kind of terror.

“Listen, it’s not easy on me either...” Nik adds, but his words are drowned out by the roaring in my ears.

My mouth goes slack, my mind reeling as I try to process this new development. How would they know where to find me? “How...?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Huh?” Nik frowns, confusion creasing his brow.

“Nik…” I begin, ready to explain, to beg for his understanding, when the manor’s front doors burst open with a resounding bang. I wince, knowing exactly what’s coming... or rather, who.

My brother’s heavy footsteps echo in the double-height vestibule as he storms in, his face a thundercloud of rage. Sheer black dread splinters through my bones, turning my knees to jelly.

Even then, I muster the courage to step in front of Nik, shielding him with my body, my hands raised in a placating gesture. “Gavriil, let me explain…” I say, hoping against hope to appease his fury.

But then, to my astonishment, Nik’s hand smooths over my shoulder, gently easing me aside as he steps forward to face my brother, his chin lifted in sheer defiance.

“Get your filthy talons off my sister!” Gavriil roars, his face flushed with outrage. I pray to all the gods that he doesn’t do something rash, something we’ll all regret.

Nik’s impassive eyes fix on the Ursa King, tracking his movements as he grabs my arm and yanks me towards him, his harsh grip bruising in its intensity.

Gavriil ignores my disarray and pulls me behind him, lunging forward until he’s nose-to-nose with Nik, his teeth bared in a snarl. “Do not think for one second I will let this pass,” he hisses, his voice dripping with venom. “Bram will be hearing from me soon!”

“Please!” I beg, my heart shattering into a million pieces, the pain worse than any physical wound could ever be. “Gavriil! Please, listen to me!”

My brother’s head snaps towards me, his fierce eyes blazing with fury. “Do not speak another word,” he tells me in our mother tongue, his tone smooth but no less harsh for its beauty. By choosing to speak in Russian, he’s deliberately shutting Nik out, creating a wall between us that feels insurmountable.

Gavriil’s wrath consumes him entirely, rendering him oblivious to my sore arm, and for that small mercy, I am grateful. I shudder to think of the mounting rage he would unleash if he knew the extent of my burns.

“Let’s go!” he barks at me, still in Russian, his fingers digging into my skin with bruising force. I flinch, knowing that any resistance will only make him angrier.

“Please, don’t…” I insist in the lowest of voices, knowing full well it will be useless. Once my brother has made up his mind, there’s no changing it, no swaying him from his course.

Nik’s brooding eyes follow me as my brother drags me towards the door, steel blue and glistening with undiluted pain. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but hesitates—torn between his desperate need to stop Gavriil and his desire to protect me from himself. Nik knows I am safest far away from him. It’s an excruciating battle, and I am caught in the crossfire.

The realization that he’s willing to let me go, to sacrifice our love for my safety, is like a knife to the heart. As soon as it sinks in, I stop fighting, the strength draining out of me like water through a sieve. Warm tears trickle down my face, blurring my vision as I turn towards the door, each step like a dagger in my soul.

I’m leaving behind my greatest love, the man who holds my heart in his hands. I’m saying goodbye to the purest happiness I’ve ever known, the joy and peace I found in Nik’s arms.

And as the door closes behind me, shutting me off from the warmth of his presence, I feel a part of myself wither and die, turning to ash in the face of this unbearable loss.

But even through the pain, through the soul-deep ache that threatens to consume me, one truth remains, bright and shining and unshakable.

I love him. I will always love him.