15. Sam
Chapter 15
Sam
H alloween dawned crisp and overcast.
A snowstorm was forecasted later that night, but the air felt oddly still that morning, foreboding in a way Sam thought fitting.
Cal’s words spun round and round in his head while Sam had stared at his phone for the last four days, waiting to see if Cain would text him back. He hadn’t yet, but in the end, it didn’t matter.
Sam knew what he had to do.
He was thankful he had one more good day to soak up, though. One more day filled with laughter and family. One last treasure to hoard.
Silas had invited Jaime and Finn over to celebrate and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, and the two of them would arrive in a few minutes to set up.
Jaime had big decorating plans, and it’d warmed Sam’s heart to hear the giddiness in his voice as he listed off everything they were bringing over.
He was soaking that up, too.
Silas had told Sam about the Halloween plans the day after he’d confronted him about leaving. The desperation in his voice was palpable as he said Jaime was looking forward to spending the holiday together. Underneath his forced casual tone, Sam knew that Silas was hoping he’d bought at least a few more days before Sam made a decision.
He regretted everything he’d ever done to make Silas think he wanted to leave.
They’d tiptoed around each other since they’d returned home, both of them holding their breath while they waited for the other shoe to drop. It seemed Silas was doing everything he could to entice Sam to stay without forcing the issue.
Sheppard had called with an update on Riley and the wreck, saying that even though DA Rivera had been there, but not really there, for his confession, the investigation had gone in a different direction after receiving “new information.”
The DA hadn’t shared what that was but implied that it appeared as though more than one person may have been involved. Sam speculated that they’d been investigating Cain for months and had found a way to tie him to the wreck.
It left Riley in a state of limbo, resting in the Silver Rapids safe house with Buck and waiting for the doctor. Given the uncertainty, Silas had made it clear that the best place for Sam to be was with him until everything was sorted out.
Sam hadn’t disagreed, but kept the rest of his thoughts about Riley to himself for now.
Mainly, that Riley had lied.
He’d taken the blame for the wreck far too easily.
When Sam had lightly pressed him for details, Riley clearly had no idea what’d happened that night. He claimed he’d driven down the road and wrecked right away after changing his mind and attempting to turn back, but Sam remembered seeing the car idling outside for some minutes before the engine revved, followed by the crash.
He was also fairly certain someone had tried to come inside his apartment first, or intended to, before changing their mind. He’d heard shuffling on his porch several times before the accident, and that wasn’t considering the hours he’d had headphones on.
So, Sam didn’t believe Riley, but that left him wondering why he’d fold so easily and take the blame. Did he want out of Salt Creek so badly that prison was a better alternative? Was he protecting someone? Had Cain ordered him to take the fall for the wreck, should he be asked about it?
Between his spinning thoughts about leaving, waiting for Cain’s response to his message, and Riley’s motivations for lying about the wreck, the days had slipped by in a blur.
The tentative balance he and Silas had created carried into the bedroom as well. They didn’t discuss their intense sex from the night they’d returned home, and in an unspoken truce, neither of them had initiated in the days since, either.
They’d clung to each other, though, every night. Sam was terribly afraid he’d never be able to fall asleep again without the safety and peace that came with dreaming in Silas’ arms.
Sam was sitting on the living room sofa, wringing his hands, when Silas trotted down the stairs, wolfy ears swiveling, probably listening for Jaime and Finn’s truck.
“They’re pulling into the driveway now… Are you alright?” Silas asked, brows pinching.
Sam looked up and forced a smile. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his scratchy throat. “I’m fine. Let’s go help them unload.”
Silas only watched him with those eyes that always saw all of him.
He’d never hated it.
The day went by too fast.
One minute, Sam was caught drooling over the way Silas’ shirt pulled up when he extended his arms over his head, hanging decorations, and the next, he was hugging Jaime goodbye, holding on a little too tight and a second too long for Silas not to clock it.
He’d carved pumpkins and hung string lights all over the house, anywhere Jaime pointed, and he’d even worn one of Silas’ flannel shirts as part of the make-shift Woodsman costume Jaime had all but shoved him into.
Silas’ reaction to seeing Sam dressed in his shirt was another piece of gold he would hoard.
He shuddered when he recalled the leather pants Jaime had wanted him to wear. He may have been soaking in his brother’s joy for the holiday, but even that had its limits.
Sam remembered how much he’d loved Halloween as a kid, even after their mom died. He had so many wonderful memories of trick-or-treating with Jaime and watching spooky movies together. Tonight, seeing all the trick-or-treaters in their costumes running along ahead of their parents made Sam yearn for something he’d scarcely let himself imagine.
A little one of his own, bouncing with energy as they walked down the sidewalk, squealing at the spooky decorations in people’s yards. Maybe another perched up on the shoulders of the tall, broad, gentle man at his side.
The clarity of that vision hurt his eyes.
When the door snicked shut behind Jaime and Finn, Sam stood in the living room, listening to the warm crackle of the fire and watching the shadows dance along the wall, lit only by the low-burning lanterns and fairy lights strung along the floor and banister.
He felt more than he heard Silas come up behind him, standing close enough for the heat radiating off his chest to warm Sam’s back.
“What do you want, Sammy? Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you,” Silas whispered, grasping his shoulders and turning him so they were facing each other.
Sam saw everything he’d ever wanted right there already, glowing in Silas’ eyes. “I want tonight to last forever. I don’t want it to be over yet,” Sam whispered back, tucking a strand of loose hair behind Silas’ ear.
He pressed his cheek into Sam’s palm. “Then it doesn’t have to be. Come on,” he said, taking Sam by the hand.
He half expected Silas to pull him up the stairs to bed; he would have followed easily. He was surprised when instead, Silas guided him to the open space in front of the fireplace and reached for his phone.
Tapping the screen a few times, he tossed the device onto the sofa just as the first few notes of a song began to play through the wireless speaker perched on the coffee table.
It was immediately familiar, one of those old melodies that’d been in so many movies and television shows over the years that Sam couldn’t pinpoint when he’d first heard it. The music started slow, and he imagined dashing gentlemen in tuxedos finding their lovely matching dance partners and pulling them to the ballroom floor, settling into each other’s arms before they began to sway in time with the music.
Sam could feel his heartbeat in his ears.
A blush sat high on Silas’ cheeks. “I think of you every time I hear this song. Please dance with me, Sammy?” Silas asked, holding out his hand.
Sam would have climbed a ladder to the moon, carved out a piece of glowing rock, and brought it all the way back down for Silas, had he asked.
Sam took his hand. “Ok,” he whispered, not trusting his voice with more words than that.
He only had a moment to be self-conscious, a fraction of a second to wonder what to do with his feet before Silas tugged him close with an arm around his waist, guiding Sam’s hand up and over his shoulder while he cradled the other in his giant palm.
Then Silas moved, and Sam couldn’t think about anything anymore except the way he knew, deep in his bones, that they were always meant to do this. They had been molded for this exact moment, their bodies fitting together so perfectly it couldn’t have been an accident.
Sam had never believed in coincidences, and the way they held each other as they swayed to the soaring music was fate.
Silas spun and twirled Sam, who grinned at how brightly this moment shined. Together, they danced in circles in front of the fire, laughter filling the air when Sam stood on his tip-toes to twirl Silas under his arm, and he had to duck and crouch to squeeze through.
The sheen in Silas’ eyes told Sam he hadn’t chosen this song on a whim; by the end, they’d stopped spinning, catching their breath and swaying together while Silas seemed to be silently begging along with the singer that they stay together forever.
They held each other close as the music faded out, leaving only the sound of the crackling fire and wind whistling down the chimney.
Words didn’t fit in this moment, with Silas bent low to rest their foreheads together, but when Sam looked up, he found a question waiting in his eyes.
“I still don’t want tonight to end,” Sam answered hoarsely.
Silas nodded, gathered Sam in his arms, and kissed him.
It was searing.
Sam opened his mouth immediately, yielding everything he was and had ever been to this man who’d so very patiently tempted his heart out of the cage of his ribs and held it tenderly.
It would never fit back inside Sam’s chest now, nor would it find a home with anyone else. Silas was the keeper of his heart, the hunter who’d coaxed his broken and weary soul into the world and shown him what it meant to be alive.
“Take me to bed, Silas,” Sam breathed before fisting his sweatshirt and pulling him back into the kiss.
He’d told himself one more day. One more good fucking day.
The memories of making love with Silas would probably haunt him forever, but at least they’d be good ones.
Pulling and pushing and stumbling over each other, they somehow made it up the stairs and into their bedroom, where Silas laid Sam out like he was the most precious gift.
He quickly shifted back into his human form, tucking the ears and claws away for now, and peeled Sam’s clothes off like he was opening a present with wrapping that was too beautiful to tear, kissing every inch of exposed skin as he went.
It wasn’t until Sam was fully naked, watching Silas shuck off his own clothes far more hastily than he’d done with Sam’s, that he realized they’d never been fully bare before each other.
The thought made Sam almost shy when Silas crawled up the bed to hover above him, his massive cock hard and hanging heavily between them. “Tell me what you want, Sammy,” he repeated, the same words he’d spoken downstairs a few minutes or hours or lifetimes ago. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
Sam cupped his face between both hands, pulling him down so their bodies were flush. “All of it, Silas. I want to be full. I want to feel whole. Give me everything.”
Silas moaned, his voice hitching as he took Sam’s mouth back in a messy kiss, rutting their cocks together. “Yes. Always, yes.”
Despite Sam’s request, Silas took his time, hands dancing along Sam’s shoulders and chest, tweaking at his nipples until Sam whimpered and arched into his touch. He continued lower to his stomach, kissing along the soft pouch under his belly button before firmly grabbing at Sam’s thighs to angle one up and around his shoulder.
All the while, Silas pressed reverent words into Sam’s skin. “Beautiful… beautiful. I should have taken more time to taste, to memorize, I should have…” he trailed off, and Sammy didn’t hear the rest before Silas bit into the soft flesh of his thigh, causing him to cry out from the pleasure-pain.
It hadn’t been hard enough to break the skin, but Sam would have a mark—like Silas intentionally left a piece of himself behind.
He soothed the area with his tongue before taking hold of Sam’s cock and lapping at the head, tasting the precum leaking from his reddened tip. He didn’t linger, though, hastened by Sam’s demanding tugs in his hair and pleas to hurry.
The way they were exploring each other tonight felt wholly different from the way Silas had taken Sam apart the last time. This was frantic and bittersweet in a way that had tears threatening to fall, like they were rushing to consume as much of each other as they could before the clock struck midnight.
The lube was within reach, and apparently, Silas wasn’t in the mood to tease anymore because he quickly slicked up a finger and massaged around Sam’s opening, slowly sinking inside.
Sam shivered at the sensation, adjusting quickly, and he was flying by the time Silas had three fingers scissoring inside him, curling as he opened Sam more hastily than he’d done a few days ago.
“Silas, Silas I’m ready. I need you. I— humph —I want your cock inside of me.”
Sam wasn’t as stretched as he should have been to take him, thick and long as he was, but he wanted it to hurt a little at first. He craved the strain of taking Silas into his body; he wanted to feel it tomorrow so he’d know for sure this hadn’t been a dream.
A reminder that he’d been whole, even for a short time.
Silas gave him one last kiss that was mostly tongue and sat back on his heels, the feral look in his eyes equally desperate. “Condom?” he asked, wild-eyed and wrecked.
Sam shook his head. “No. Like this. Fill me up.”
Silas nodded, slicking up his cock with a few pumps before wiping his fingers off on the sheets. He stuffed a pillow beneath the small of Sam’s back and took hold of his legs, wrapping them around his waist so his ass was propped in Silas’ lap.
He leveraged one hand on Sam’s hip and notched the broad head of his cock against Sam’s hole with the other. Before he pushed in, he leaned over and pressed his forehead into Sam’s. “Stay with me, Sammy. Don’t look away.”
“I’m right here,” Sam said, grabbing onto Silas’ shoulders.
Silas surged in.
Sam’s mouth dropped open, his breath whooshing out in a gasp that Silas breathed in. He didn’t close his eyes, though, not even when he winced from the stretch that was well on the side of too much.
He would never look away.
“I’m hurting you,” Silas said, his voice broken. Their mouths were so close Sam felt the words more than he heard them.
Silas began to pull out, but Sam locked his ankles tight around Silas’ back, digging his nails into his shoulders. “Don’t. I’m fine—just give me a minute.”
Silas coaxed him into another wet kiss, hands gingerly holding Sam’s face still, thumb caressing his cheek.
It didn’t take Sam long to adjust; soon, he was circling his hips and whining into Silas’ mouth. “More. More, Silas.”
Silas huffed and pressed in further. It took Sam’s breath away again, but the stretch was no longer painful—it was right.
Sam threw his head back and moaned, relishing in Silas’ slow thrusts as deep as he could go.
Silas braced his weight on one forearm and took hold of Sam’s waist with his other hand, holding him down for Silas to take.
And he took.
In deep, slinging thrusts, Silas pistoned in and out of Sam, sweat dripping off him. “You feel so good, Sammy,” he said, but it almost sounded like he was about to cry.
Overcome with whatever emotion it was that poured out of them both, Sam clawed at him, gripping handfuls of his ass and pulling him down, stuffing his fat cock inside over and over and over.
He couldn’t get enough. It would never be too much. He would never be too full—not of Silas. Not of this.
Sam’s own cock jerked with each thrust, bouncing off his belly. Silas nailed his prostate every few thrusts, driving breathy uh, uh, uh’s out of him.
It was all-consuming; the sensation of Silas moving in him was more than Sam had ever known—had ever thought possible. He’d have fingerprints bruised into his waist and thighs from where Silas held him firm.
He wished he could have them tattooed. The bite mark, too.
What Silas did to him was more than sex—it was owning. He dropped his weight right on top of Sam, holding him down, and tangled his fingers into Sam’s hair, angling his head to the side so he could nip and suck along his neck.
“You’re everything… everything,” Silas mumbled before biting into Sam’s neck, his shoulder, his pec.
Marking him. More reminders that they’d done this—that Silas had wanted him enough to leave a trace.
More gold to hoard.
Sam carded his fingers through Silas’ hair, holding him close.
He wanted this to last forever. His cock ached to be touched, the friction of their bodies just shy of enough to get him off, but he didn’t reach for it. He wanted Silas to stay in him always.
Silas shoved an arm beneath Sam’s shoulders, cradling him close when his thrusts became more erratic. He was almost there. “Let me keep you, Sammy. Please let me keep you,” he begged.
Sam held on tight and had no words except for Silas’ name, over and over.
Silas came on a broken shout, trembling above Sam while he shoved his cock inside as far as he could go.
Unable to take it any longer, Sam fit a hand between them and brought himself off seconds after, only needing a few pumps until he spilled warm between them.
Sam clung to Silas for long minutes, well after the cum drying on his belly became uncomfortable. If he never let go, Silas couldn’t pull out and leave him empty and incomplete again.
Of course, he did eventually pull out, and Sam shuddered at the loss.
Silas didn’t get up this time, though, not even to clean them off. He fished for his discarded sweatshirt, quickly swiping at the sticky cum on their stomachs before nearly tackling Sam back into bed, bundling them under the covers, and wrapping himself around Sam.
Sam relished the sensation of being squashed by Silas.
Rubbing his nose back and forth through the soft hair on Silas’ chest for long minutes, Sam finally spoke into the quiet. “That was…” he trailed off, unable to find the words.
“Yeah. It was,” Silas whispered back, not needing him to.
His arms tightened around Sam, and he took a deep, sure breath, like he’d finally come to a decision. “You can let go with me, Sammy. I love how strong and confident and independent you are. It’s sexy as fuck. But here, with me… you can be soft.”
Cupping the back of Sam’s neck possessively, Silas continued, “I’ll be whatever you need me to be, for as long as you need me to be it. So, just… stay? Please. Whatever secrets you’re keeping, whatever you’re holding back, it doesn’t matter. I choose you. Every day.”
Sam’s tears tracked down his nose, landing softly on Silas’ chest. He pulled back just enough to look at him fully. “You can’t know that, though. You can’t promise me that. You don’t know everything.”
“I can ,” Silas growled. He rolled so that Sam was on his back, staring up at him. “I can promise you that because you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And I’ve always been yours. I don’t care about the rest.”
Sam began shaking his head. “What are you saying?” he whispered.
Silas searched his face. “I have waited for most of my life to find you again. I have scented every breeze and ocean current and grocery store aisle and gas station and bookstore—for you . Don’t you understand? You are my mate, Sammy.”
Sam could only blink, mouth slightly parted in awe.
Mate.
He was Silas’ mate. Silas was his mate.
Yes.
Sam felt like he’d been staring at the same scattering of stars across the night sky his whole life, never finding a rhyme or reason to any of them, only for Silas to come along and turn him around, pointing to the constellations just over his shoulder.
Magic had been there all along; he just hadn’t been looking properly.
Sam had accepted that he could never be Silas’ everything. He’d accepted that, if he should stay, their time together was finite—and Silas would still be worth it.
Now, though… “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why keep this from me?” Sam asked hoarsely.
Silas’ brow pinched, his eyes pleading. “Because… because I want you to choose me, too. I want you to want to be with me. And because I love you. I love you so much, and I couldn’t bear it if you thought the only reason I wanted you was because of some bond neither of us chose—because I do choose you. And I can’t breathe at the thought of letting you go. I won’t let you go. I know you’re going to try and leave. I’ve seen it on your face all week?—”
“Silas—” Sam said, trying to get his attention, but he pressed on.
“—but I truly don’t think I can let you. Just give me a chance. Choose me . Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll give it to you every day. I knew I wanted you the instant I heard you barging into my house to go toe-to-toe with a stranger, a shifter for fucks’s sake , all to rescue someone you love. I need you like air. More. These past five months have been torture without you. Do you want to know why there was a path for Riley to follow back to your apartment? Because I was there every day. Every fucking day, Sammy. I can’t let you go. I won’t. So don’t ask me to. Please ?—”
“Silas,” Sam interrupted again, raising his voice a notch and cupping a hand to his cheek.
Silas stopped this time, out of breath, and looked at Sam like the entire universe hung in the balance of what he would say next.
“Silas. My Silas.”
It was time.
He’d planned to wait until morning—wanting to cherish one more night in Silas’ arms—but he couldn’t put it off any longer.
Silas deserved the truth.
As terrified as he looked that Sam would leave, Sam was equally terrified that in a few moments, Silas would be the one asking him to.
Lightly pushing against Silas’ chest so he could sit up, Sam swung his legs out of bed.
Silas stayed frozen, watching as he walked over to his ever-shrinking pile of things, the rest having already dispersed and found a home throughout the house.
He pulled a folded-up piece of paper from the pocket of his unwashed jeans and carried it back over to the bed. Worrying at the corner of the note, Sam found Silas’ eyes.
Committed to memory the love he saw there.
Love. Yes. Silas had called him that from the very start.
“You deserve so much better than me,” Sam said, amazed he even had a voice at all. “But I will give you all of me, anyway. I choose you, Silas. And if you still want me after you’ve read this, I will choose you every single day for the rest of my life.”
He passed Silas the note and flipped on the bedside lamp so he could read.
“What is this, Sammy?” Silas asked, sitting up.
“It’s everything. Everything you’ve deserved to know from the very beginning.”