Page 10 of Broken Bonds

The ease with which we converse makes me a little nervous, however. Samantha is almost too easy to talk to. I could see myself getting attached to her, which is something I absolutely don’t want to do. It’s not because of her, by any means, but I swore not to let myself get entangled with another being long ago. The last time it happened, my will was not completely my own, and I ended up trapped in a nightmare.

I realize the danger that Samantha poses for me. I enjoy her company far too much, and there’s a danger in that. There’s a danger in letting her get close to me.

I need to put distance between us, and fast.

“Well,” I say, glancing down at my almost empty plate, “I’m pretty much done here and it’s late. I should really be getting to bed.”

She blinks, looking rightly started by my abrupt closure to our conversation.

“Oh,” she says. “O…okay. Maybe we can chat about this another time? It’s really fascinating.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say in a noncommittal tone as I shove to my feet and move to place my dishes in the sink. “That’d be fine. You know, when we’re not busy with our work.”

“Right.” Her tone and expression convey her disappointment. She sees that I’m brushing her off, and I kind of hate myself for doing this to her. She doesn’t really deserve it, but I won’t be doing either of us any favors if I let this continue. One or both of us is just going to be left hurt and disappointed, of that I have no doubt.

“All right, well, goodnight,” I lamely say before turning and making a beeline for the door.

“Goodnight,” she calls after me, but I don’t stop to look back, fearful that I won’t be able to leave her there if I see her crestfallen expression.

I grit my teeth and harden myself against the feelings she’s provoked in me. Samantha Reynold is far more dangerous than I initially took her for. She pulled me with that sweet smile and bubbly attitude…but I can’t let myself be blinded to the reality that lies between us.

She is a human.

I am a phoenix.

One day, she will leave this place, grow old, and die.

And I’ll just keep living, which will be a lot easier to do if I’m not haunted by the memory of her bright green gaze and musical laugh.

Aleixo

Iquickly realize that trying to keep my distance from Samantha in as small of a facility as the one we occupy is way harder than I would’ve thought. I start spending the majority of my days in my lab, and she doesn’t bother me there again after that first time she came buzzing at my door. Luckily, that first week she quickly becomes occupied setting up her own lab across the hall from mine. It’s easy to avoid running into her…it’s not so easy to ignore her presence.

The more comfortable she becomes in the facility, the more the place becomes hers. She starts leaving out books in different places. Some blankets she’s brought with her get strewn about. Sweatshirts she’s shed and left lying in random rooms that still bear her scent torment me.

Her scent. Her scent is everywhere. It’s a heady mix of her floral shampoo and what I can only describe as her essence. It taunts me almost everywhere I go. Her scent seems to linger in every crack and crevice, every piece of furniture, and every porous surface that can soak it up. The only place I can truly escape any traces of her is my lab, but even in there, I can’t escape my thoughts of her.

As days turn into weeks with us barely interacting, I begin to grow restless. I find myself walking by her lab door just to see if I can hear her working inside. Sometimes, I catch her moving through the facility and, if she doesn’t notice me, I just watch her. I can’t help myself. The way she moves is so graceful and assured. She’s athletic, that much I can tell just from observing her, but I don’t know if she played sports growing up, if she likes to run, or if she was even a dancer. It’s the not knowing that really starts to drive me crazy.

The woman is a mystery, and all my mind wants to do is uncover everything I can about her.

One day, about two weeks after her arrival, I’m working in my lab when I hear something outside my door. I’m crossing the room and pressing my ear against it because I fully realize I’ve moved. I grimace to myself – pathetic – but I don’t move away from the door.

I hear her walking, her soft footsteps padding across the floor. She’s humming. I’ve noticed that she does that now and again when she’s distracted. What’s distracting her, I wonder? Is she reading something as she’s walking? That’s a talent of hers I’ve witnessed on more than one occasion. Is she puzzling out a problem with her research in her head? When she gets stuck on something, she’ll often pace through the facility as she works through it.

I want to know what she’s doing so badly. It would be easy to find out. All I have to do is open the door, and she’d be right there. I could have my question answered and move on with my day…except I know that’s not actually likely. If I interact with her…if I talk to her…I don’t know that I’d be able to stop.

What is wrong with me? Why do I feel this way about her? This intense attraction. This pull that I just can’t seem to avoid…

My whole body goes rigid as a horrible thought enters my mind. I jerk away from the door as if it’s just scalded me and stumble backwards until I run into my worktable.

No. No, it’s not possible.

She’s ahuman, for god’s sake. Plus, I’ve already had one…and isn’t that the rule? Fate only shackles you with one?

No. It’s impossible. There’s no way in hell Samantha is my mate.

Yet, even as I tell myself this, I begin to pace back and forth across the floor in agitation. As impossible as it is, I need to approach the situation with a critical mind.Ifit were true, it would certainly explain the intensity of my attraction to her so soon after meeting. It would explain my need to know everything about her, and my constant desire to be around her as often as I can.

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