Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
With the pack safe and the shifters rescued, the following evening found Sammy gripping the edge of his bathroom vanity as an entirely different problem plagued him. The urgency of survival had faded, replaced now by a quieter, more insistent question.
Did he truly belong here?
The harsh fluorescent light outlined the exhaustion in his face—shadows under his eyes, skin dull and worn.
Otherwise, he looked the same as ever. Green eyes, unruly strawberry-blond hair, soft cheeks, a sharp jaw.
He studied his reflection in the mirror, searching for evidence of change, but he looked exactly as he always did.
And that worried him.
He had expected, maybe hoped, that being with Dominic would transform him in some way. A streak of color in his hair, a shift in his eyes, anything. But the emptiness persisted, both in his appearance and beneath the surface.
Worse, he felt nothing. No spark, no tether.
With Dominic, he didn’t experience the knot in his stomach or the currents of electricity that swept across his skin. He didn’t feel the tingle across the back of his neck or the pressure that built at the base of his skull and crept into his temples.
Surely the wolf had preferences, even subconscious ones. Everyone did. Little things that drew their eye to a passing stranger or made them do a double take from across the room.
The stronger the partiality, the harder it was for him to fight the change. Boone had a thing for redheads, and no matter how hard he fought it, he always ended up with streaks of ginger in his hair.
Kennedy, on the other hand, liked dark eyes. It was such a mild preference, however, he only struggled to resist the compulsion when tired or distracted.
With Dominic, he kept hitting a wall. Even when he opened himself to possibility, even when he tried, he found nothing waiting for him.
At first, he worried his connection to the relique might be a contributing factor, but it seemed unlikely that it would only cut him off from one person. Especially when that person happened to be his mate.
Granted, he barely understood his own abilities, let alone the whims of fate. From what information he had, however, he seemed to be doing both wrong.
He had recognized Dominic as his mate from the moment their hands had touched. While it hadn’t been as intense or overwhelming as he’d expected, he had also never been more certain about anything in his life.
The deeper feelings had come later, perhaps shaped by their bond, but not born from it. At least, that was how it had been for him. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that Dominic experienced their connection in an entirely different way.
The wolf could be hard to read at the best of times. His expression rarely betrayed emotion, and his body language always felt a little guarded. As such, he had no way of knowing how intensely—or not—Dominic felt their bond.
Did it consume him? Border on obsession? Did it blur the lines between destiny and choice?
A sudden, sharp knock at his bedroom door snapped Sammy out of his spiraling thoughts. He jerked his head up, tension flooding his shoulders, and pushed away from the sink.
“Yeah?” he called, rushing to answer the summons.
“Dinner is ready, colibrí.”
Dominic’s deep baritone sent a jolt through him, making his heart pound and his legs tremble. His breath caught, sticking in his throat, and his mouth turned arid as he hurried across the room to open the door.
“I’m not really—oh.”
Dominic loomed at the threshold, blocking out the light from the corridor behind him.
Clutched between his hands, he held a bowl of spaghetti crowned with a mountain of parmesan and a slice of garlic bread perched on the rim.
The scents of tomato and oregano wafted into the room, causing his stomach to spasm with anticipation.
“I had a feeling you were going to say that.” Dominic pushed inside without waiting for an invitation and forced the bowl into Sammy’s hands. Then he sauntered over to the bed and dropped down heavily on the edge. “Eat before it gets cold.”
Sammy stood rooted, the heat from the ceramic seeping into his palms, and blinked dumbly at the unexpected gesture. The spark of his mate’s touch still lingered against his skin, sending a shock through him that made his pulse race.
“I…uh…thank you?”
“You sure about that?” Dominic leaned back on his palms and smirked, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a hesitation that softened his usual confidence.
“Thank you,” he repeated, firmer this time. “I just meant that you didn’t have to do this.” He held his bowl up for emphasis. “I can eat in the kitchen, but I’m not that—”
“You don’t like eating with the pack.”
Not a question. Not a guess. While the tone was matter of fact, the softness in the delivery hinted at concern rather than accusation.
“I never said that.”
Dominic tilted his head, his gaze searching, penetrating. “But it’s true.”
“It’s not like that.” Sighing, he shuffled over to the bed, placed his bowl on the nightstand, and eased down beside his mate. “I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
“Why do you think you would?” Dominic’s eyes tightened at the corners. “Did someone say something?”
Sammy stared down at his slightly pinkened hands and shook his head. “No, no one said anything. I just…”
When he had first arrived at La Madriguera, he had been greeted with curiosity and mild suspicion, which hadn’t been entirely unexpected. Over time, the pack had become more welcoming, more accepting. Well, mostly. Thierry, it seemed, could barely stomach breathing the same air as him.
The male always stiffened when Sammy entered a room, tracking his every move but never making eye contact or lingering. He left as soon as it was acceptable, and while Sammy didn’t know why, it did make him acutely aware of how his presence created a strain on the household.
“You just…?”
Sammy shook his head. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, but hiding in your room and avoiding everyone isn’t going to change anything.”
Sammy tensed. “I’m not hiding.”
“But?”
“This is their home.”
Their sanctuary. The one place the pack should feel at ease. Sammy didn’t want to be the reason that changed.
“True,” Dominic allowed. His fingers slid under Sammy’s chin, warm and steady, coaxing his head up until their eyes met. He hesitated briefly before continuing, his voice softer than before. “But it’s your home too.”
He said it with such unwavering certainty that Sammy almost agreed on instinct, but doubt still clouded the acceptance. La Madriguera wasn’t his home, not yet. For now—and for the foreseeable future—he was merely a guest.
Unless something changed soon, in a few days, he would be nothing more than a memory, a stranger who had once passed through.
“You don’t believe me?” Dominic studied him in the silence that followed, his tone carrying a sharpness to it now.
“I believe you think that’s true,” he answered, each word careful and measured.
“But you don’t.”
He really wished his mate would stop putting words in his mouth. Instead of arguing with him, though, he asked a question of his own—one he couldn’t seem to reconcile.
“What do you like about me?”
Dominic dropped his hand and leaned back, his expression one of genuine confusion. “Why are you asking?”
“Just answer me.”
“I like you.”
Sammy gritted his teeth and choked down a sigh. “I know, but I mean, if we weren’t mated—”
“But we are.”
“I’m aware. I’m saying, if we weren’t—”
“But we are.”
The goddess save him, it was like talking to a damn brick wall. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly and let go of the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t know exactly what he hoped to gain from the line of questioning, only that it mattered.
“I’m not denying that we’re mated.” He wanted that to be very clear. “I’m asking you if you’d still want me if fate hadn’t thrown us together.”
A low, quiet growl was his only warning before long fingers wrapped around his throat. His mate’s palm radiated warmth against his skin, a solid weight that felt like ownership rather than dominance.
“You are mine.”
His head spun, and his heart crashed violently against his ribs as his stomach rolled over in a slow somersault. With a shaky breath, he wetted his dry lips and leaned into the pressure at his throat.
“Because fate said so?”
Dominic’s eyes flashed with a feral light. “Because I said so.”
A quiet voice in the back of his mind told him to drop it, to stop pushing, but he couldn’t. He needed to understand, to find a way through the uncertainty that haunted him.
“Then why don’t I feel anything from you? Why don’t I change for you?”
Dominic’s brow creased with faint lines—a subtle expression Sammy might have missed if he hadn’t been watching so closely. His grip relaxed, almost a caress now, and his fingertips traced the pulsing vein in Sammy’s throat.
“Why would I want you to change?” His voice vibrated with sincerity, and he sounded almost offended by the mere suggestion.
With nowhere to hide, no ability to mask himself, Sammy could only absorb his mate’s intense gaze, and he had never felt so seen. Was this how it felt to be perceived? To be viewed for who he was, not who others wanted him to be?
He’d always thought he wanted that, but now, faced with the reality, it scared the hell out of him.
Being watched required little effort on his part. People saw what they wanted and made up the rest. To be seen, though, came with expectations…and the possibility of being found lacking.
“I don’t know why you can’t sense whatever it is you’re looking for,” Dominic continued as if he hadn’t just emotionally wrecked him. He traced the curve of Sammy’s jaw with his thumb and shook his head. “But maybe it’s because there’s nothing to find.”
It had been exactly what he wanted to hear, what he wanted to believe, but desires tended to be messy. Dominic’s explanation sounded too easy, too clean.
“But surely there’s something you want,” he pressed.
There had to be something deeper, something Dominic wasn’t saying. There always was.
“I want you.”
Sammy let out a shaky sigh, his nerves stretched taut. “Yeah, but—”
He hesitated, the doubt refusing to let go. He was torn between the comfort Dominic offered and the nagging warning that something was missing, something he might not be able to give.
“It’s not really that complicated, colibrí.” Dominic let out a quiet chuckle, lips curving with fondness, but his eyes remained fixed on Sammy. “I don’t look for the good or the bad in people. I look at what they show me.”
The sincerity felt raw, his need for honesty almost palpable.
Sammy heard it, but he didn’t understand it.
Frustration gnawed at him. He gritted his teeth, wrestling with emotions he barely recognized. The world, for him, had always been a puzzle of shifting intentions. In contrast, Dominic’s openness was unfamiliar, frightening, and he struggled to make sense of it.
“You don’t have any preferences at all?” he pressed, searching for hidden motives or cracks in Dominic’s resolve, something concrete he could grab on to.
His mate reached for him again, his palm settling warmly on the back of Sammy’s neck. He pulled him close, giving him nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
“I prefer what’s real. All I want is for you to be exactly who you are.” His tone remained steady, but a flash of emotion flickered across his face, gone too fast to be named.
Then their mouths collided, hot and searching, Dominic’s touch burning away any lingering doubts. His tongue plunged between Sammy’s lips, tracing the contours of his mouth and branding him from the inside out.
Sammy leaned in with a soft whimper, overwhelmed but aching for more. His fingers tangled in the front of Dominic’s shirt, knotting the fabric as he clung to him.
His mate’s tongue stroked over his, sliding, tangling. He coaxed and enticed, never forcing, never taking more than offered, as he kept Sammy teetering on the edge.
Questions lingered. The shadow of uncertainty still shrouded his thoughts. For now, though, this was enough.
For now, for Dominic, he was good enough.