11. Sam
Chapter 11
Sam
“ O h, um, sorry,” Sam said, caught off guard.
Cal smiled, and it was so similar to Silas’ he could barely look.
His hair was greying, but Sam could tell it had been brown, several shades lighter than Silas’, and he wore it in the same shoulder-length half-back style tucked around his wolfy ears. “I thought you might be in here panicking over that toast, so I came to talk you out of whatever drastic plan of escape you’ve conjured up.”
Sam gaped. “Well—I?—”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Cal pulled him from the doorway and directed him further down the hall. “Come on. Let’s go talk somewhere that’s not the bathroom.”
Cal directed Sam into a small room at the end of the corridor. Bookshelves lined the wall, with pictures of Silas, Finn, Cal, and Meera scattered throughout. There were two soft-looking armchairs sitting on either side of a large window overlooking the valley they had come through on the way here, and a wood-burning stove squatted in the corner, crackling merrily.
Sam had never seen a cozier room.
“Please, sit. I’d offer you something to drink, but I’d have to go to the kitchen to get it, and I don’t want us to be interrupted,” Cal said.
Sam stiffly perched on one of the chairs while Cal took the other across from him.
He couldn’t decide if he was about to be scolded or interrogated. Was it possible that Cal knew of his involvement with Cain? Would he ask him to leave immediately? To never darken his son’s doorstep again?
Sam’s trepidation must have been written all over his face because Cal chuckled and said, “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no. I’m not about to do that.”
Sam huffed. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
Cal smirked. “A lifetime of reading people. Now, I apologize if Meera’s toast upset you. She didn’t mean to make it sound like we were taking Jaime from you. Only that we’re expanding your family if that’s something you want.”
“How did you know the toast upset me?”
Cal’s whiskey-brown eyes glinted, the warm twin to Cain’s cold, yellow gaze. “Again, a lifetime of reading people. And I’d imagine you’d be fairly defensive over your brother since you were the one who provided for the both of you from a very young age.”
Sam blinked. “How do you know that?”
He smiled softly. “Silas has told us a great deal about you, Sammy. Or is it Sam?”
Sam shifted in his seat. He opened his mouth to say that Sam was fine, but for some reason, what came out instead was, “I don’t mind Sammy, from him. Or you.”
“Alright then, Sammy. So, how were you planning to leave? You don’t have the convenience of four furry legs to carry you across the valley, and I’m confident Silas can outpace a snowmobile.”
Sam studied Cal’s face. He appeared genuinely curious; Sam didn’t think he was trying to prove a point or having fun at his expense. “I was going to lie and say I didn’t feel well and ask him to take me back to Silver Rapids,” Sam said.
He felt better and worse for having told the truth.
Cal nodded, somber. “Would you have been there when Silas returned?”
Sam looked away, out through the trees where the river lazily cut across the landscape. “No,” he whispered.
“Hmm. Has Silas told you the story of how his mother and I fell in love?”
He turned back to Cal. “No, he hasn’t.”
A sly grin stretched Cal’s face. “She was betrothed to another man before we met.”
Sam tucked one socked foot up underneath him, settling further into the chair that was as comfortable as it looked. “She was in love with someone else?” he asked, scandalized.
Sadness clouded Cal’s face. “No, it was not a love match. The betrothal had been organized by their parents. She’s the daughter of an alpha of a prominent pack in the southwest, and her betrothed was the alpha son of an alpha here in Alaska. She fully intended to honor the betrothal, even after we met and realized we were mates.”
“What happened?” Sam asked, his voice hushed.
Now, it was Cal who looked out through the forest surrounding their home. “It became impossible to hide the bond any longer.” Looking back at Sam, he continued, “The scent becomes apparent as the bond grows. Usually, when a couple is aware of it or accepts it. She explained the situation to her intended, and he agreed to release her from their betrothal, on one condition.”
Dread filled Sam’s stomach. He had a terrible feeling he already knew the outcome of this story. “It was Cain, wasn’t it? She was meant to marry him,” he whispered, afraid that speaking his name in this secret, sacred place would allow him in.
Cal nodded. “My mate was betrothed to my brother.”
“How did you stand it?”
“Every day was a choice between begging her to run away with me so we could be together and hiding my feelings so she wasn’t in danger of his ire. I chose her safety until it wasn’t a choice anymore,” he said, and Sam felt flayed open beneath his gaze.
“What was the bargain?” Sam asked.
Cal looked at his hands before meeting Sam’s eyes once again. “That if our union bore an alpha child, Cain would have a say in their upbringing. He would train them to be his successor. Not many are born in a pack’s generation. If we had an alpha child before Cain, the odds of any of his children also being an alpha were very low. It was a bargain based on risk and chance.”
“And… Cain won?” Sam asked quietly.
Cal smiled and shook his head. “No. He didn’t. Silas has always been our greatest joy.”
Silence stretched between them.
Sam couldn’t help but feel like Silas’ dad was telling him all of this to make him even more convinced he needed to go so that Cain was no longer in their lives.
“So, you did the right thing, then, by leaving. You protected them.”
“Yes, eventually. But that wasn’t an easy decision to make and it wasn’t one I would’ve made on my own. It took me six years, Sammy,” Cal whispered into the quiet.
“But you did. You were strong for them.”
A single tear tracked down Cal’s face. “Do you know how many times I let Cain make my child cry in those six years? How many times I held my terrified mate, telling her that leaving was a death sentence? When really, I was just scared to try. Scared to trust. Scared to fail.”
Sammy was confused. “You’re here now, though. You’re free of him. That’s what matters.”
Cal smiled. “What matters is that we chose each other. We trusted each other—despite him. That’s how we got away. Men like Cain will do everything in their power to maintain control—and that includes isolating those they know would be their greatest challengers. We’re stronger together.”
Sam blinked. What was he saying? “I don’t understand.”
“Wolves aren’t meant to be alone. We’re meant to lean on each other. Don’t isolate yourself, Sammy,” Cal said before standing. “Now, come on, we should get back out there. I can hear Silas worrying from here.”
Sam stood with him. “Wait…” he began, barely able to speak the words aloud. “What if it’d been in your power to keep the ones you love from being hurt? Would you have done it, even if it meant losing them?”
Cal turned back toward him, so much understanding on his face Sam could barely stand it. “Cain’s greatest weapon and biggest deceit was convincing me that his actions were dependent on my obedience. But we can’t stop other people from hurting those we love by expecting them to hold up their end of some terrible bargain. They only lose power when we trust the ones we love, and choose each other.”
Cal opened the door for Sam, and they walked together toward the bustling sounds coming from the living room, his head still buzzing.
“How did you know I was thinking of leaving?” Sam asked.
Cal looked down at him and winked. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. But if I did, I’d say—a lifetime of reading people.”
Sam narrowed his eyes, ready to call him out on his weird mystical bullshit, but suddenly Silas was in front of them, eyes full of worry.
“Are you ok?” Silas asked, looking back and forth between Sam and his dad.
Hot shame crept up the back of Sam’s neck at seeing the concern on his face. How could he have contemplated leaving without saying goodbye?
“I’m ok,” he said. “Really,” he added with a smile, reaching out to squeeze Silas’ hand.
His face relaxed, and they followed his dad back out to the living room. “Good,” Silas said. “Now, help me decide what Finn should make for dinner.”
The rest of the evening flew by.
Cal and Meera handed the kitchen over to Finn, who rubbed his hands together before diving in to prepare cilantro-lime rice bowls with pico de Gallo, seared steak, and homemade tortillas.
Jaime was on vegetable chopping duty, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh every time Finn had to fend Silas off from sneaking “just a bite” of steak.
“You have to let the meat rest, you animal,” Finn grouched.
“That’s what he said,” Silas shot back, turning to wiggle his eyebrows at Sam.
By the time dinner was done, his face hurt from how much he’d laughed at their antics, and his belly was full to bursting.
“Fantastic as always, Finn,” Cal said.
“Yes, thank you for making dinner. Now, you all shoo while we clean up,” Meera said.
“Are you sure?” Jaime asked.
“Yes, go find a movie to watch. We won’t be long,” Cal said, gathering the plates to start the wash.
Back in the living room, Finn and Jaime collapsed onto one side of the large sectional, and Silas settled on the other, stretching his legs out.
Sam hovered for a second, unsure if he should sit next to Silas or in one of the open armchairs, but Silas reached out and pulled him down next to him, tucking Sam under his arm.
“This ok?” he asked quietly.
Sam angled his head up to look at him. “Yeah,” he replied, nodding. He wiggled in a little closer, because he wanted to.
Silas began purring.
“ Ugh, dude, you’ve gotta shut that off in mixed company,” Finn grumbled, chucking a throw pillow at Silas.
Silas dodged the pillow and whipped the remote through the air right back at him, hitting Finn square in the chest. “Find us a movie, you grouch.”
“If you two break another remote, it’s coming out of your Christmas presents this year,” Cal said from the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Silas and Finn replied in unison.
Sam looked at Jaime, and they grinned at each other. He couldn’t remember ever feeling happier than this.
When Cal and Meera joined them, sitting in the armchairs angled in front of the sofa sectional, Finn put on a movie about a guy who was left at the bottom of the ocean without oxygen for a concerning amount of time and somehow still survived.
Jaime pulled out his e-reader five minutes in.
Exhaustion weighed Sam down after the emotional turmoil of the day, but at the same time, he was buzzing from the casual intimacy of sitting next to Silas on the couch. Tucked right up next to him, Sam could only pretend to watch the movie, when really he couldn’t focus on anything except the places their bodies touched.
He felt like a naughty teenager as they sat just behind Silas’ parents, playing footsie. Or shinsie? Sam’s legs were nowhere near as long as Silas’, so he ended up draping one across Silas’ and giving up.
He forgot how to breathe when Silas began drawing slow circles on the nape of his neck with his thumb; an arm stretched behind Sam along the cushion.
So Sam returned the favor, covertly tracing patterns on Silas’ thigh, just high enough to make him shift in his seat, angling a knee up.
Sam smirked. He’d never done this before, whatever this slow form of torture was.
By the time the movie ended, Jaime was sound asleep, curled up next to Finn. They all whispered goodnight, and Sam shouldered his bag and followed Silas up the stairs.
A hush fell over the house, and the sound of the wind blowing through the chimney and rattling the wooden exterior made him feel strangely vulnerable.
Perhaps it was silly of him, but he’d expected Silas to point at whichever room he’d be staying in and bid him goodnight. He wasn’t prepared for Silas to whisper, “Mom and Dad’s room is down the hall, and Finn and Jaime’s is across from ours. We’re staying in my old room.”
Silas’ door creaked when he opened it, and he flicked on a warm lamp before setting their stuff down and shutting them inside.
Sam stood in the center of Silas’ childhood bedroom, taking in the sparsely filled bookcases that sat on either side of the window, a few knickknacks still scattered along the shelves. Glow-in-the-dark stars were haphazardly stuck along the ceiling like there had been a lot more at one time, but some had fallen in the years since they were placed there.
His eyes fell to the full bed pushed up against the wall, covered in a pillowy, dark blue duvet and a soft quilt draped over the footboard, and then to the twin blow-up mattress made up on the floor.
Right. Well, this would be an uncomfortable night’s sleep.
He dropped his bag to the side and turned to look at Silas. “Since you’d probably pop that mattress by just looking at it, I’ll take the floor.”
“No, you won’t,” Silas rumbled, and he stepped up to Sam, took his face between both hands, and kissed him.