Page 7 of Unbroken

I almost expect there to be Witches here. The sight is so familiar, I can almost see them now, their long gray robes dragging behind them, soaking in the prayer enriched spray of the blessed waters. Hoods covering their faces, making everyone the same, their voices raised as one, candles in hand, heads bowed in the silver moonlight. At the very top of it all, standing on a rock ledge, her larger-than-life silhouette looms over us all. The High Priestess raises her hands to give thanks for the mountain’s powers, for gracing us with our precious ability to see the great beyond.

I step up onto the first of the stone steps carefully, my feet bare, the spray of the falls drenches the pajamas I fell asleep in. Looking down at my tank top and shorts, I almost feel the need to cover myself, but there is no one here. No one here to glare at me in disappointment for my lack of respect, the mountains are my only judge, and they seem just fine with me standing in this empty dreamscape of my once home.

The need to walk further, to climb higher until I reach our town, beckons me, but I pause. I don't want to see the place where I was rejected. The place that hid me away from everyone else in our village because I wasn't one of them. Not completely. I guess it's not the place but the person. The High Priestess. She’s the one who cast me out, not this place.

Mist and fog begin to roll across the stones, covering them completely as clouds block out the moon above. My heart begins to pound, and I know something is coming. This is why I’m here after all. The sudden shift in the atmosphere puts me on edge. My instincts lead me to believe that this isn't a mere dream but a summons. I thought I was safe from her reach in the Underworld, but this dream is proof of my error. As if I summoned her with my thoughts, a candle shines, glides towards me as it cuts through the darkness. The flame floats in front of my face then grows, stretching, morphing into arms, legs, and a tall, slight body. Her bright white robe appears next, shimmery with its own mystical light source, until the High Priestess stands tall before me. Her long silvery white locs cascade over her shoulders as she reaches for her hood with dark brown wrinkled hands, pulling back the fabric to reveal a beautiful yet aged face. How many years has she held on to her youth? She never used to age, always maintained a youthful glamour that belied how old she actually was. I guess there's no need for pretence in front of me. Still unworthy in her eyes.

I bow out of habit, nodding my head in greeting, when all I want to do is wake up. "High Priestess Isadura."

She takes in my appearance as she clasps her hands in front of herself, then she begins to circle me slowly. I stand completely still, but I don't miss her look of disgust, then resignation that graces her features before she masks them with a fake pasted on smile. "Esmeralda, you've been hiding from me," she says it as if she's hurt, and I almost laugh at her.

"Beg your pardon, High Priestess. I thought that I didn't belong to this Coven anymore. I didn't realize you were looking for me. I'm no longer a Blue Mountain Witch. But you know that already." I try to hide my own resentment but it's there in every word I utter. I owe her nothing, not one damn thing.

"Oh, don't play dumb, Esmeralda, or is this what has become of you under the tutelage of HellNight Academy? You know why I've called you here," she says as she stops in front of me once more. "I've felt your power. I should have known, tainted blood or not, that the daughter of Cashira would be powerful." She offers me another phony smile but at the mention of my mother's name I lose it. She has no right.

"As I said, I don't belong to you. You threw me away. It matters not what power I have now. I am nothing to you and I will remain as I am, banished. Remember your words, your command." My anger rises to the surface; I am done being polite, all the things I've ever wanted to say, needed to say, come out of me in a rush of pure hatred. "Don't you dare speak my mother's name. You took me away from her. I was just trash hanging like lint on your robes. You treated me like a second-class citizen, no, maybe worse. When I didn't have the power you thought I should have had, you handed me over to Lucretia Larrieux, like I was a thing to be given away, not a person with thoughts or opinions about my life in any way. So don't you play dumb, High Priestess. I know why you summoned me here. I know that my powers are greater than yours.” I scoff and tilt my head when she purses her lips at my outburst. “You feel that what is mine belongs to the mountains, and by proxy belongs to you. You want to use me, and I won’t let you. Before you attempt to threaten or demand anything of me. My answer is NO. I don't owe the Blue Mountains shit."

She steps back as if I slapped her, then she quickly recovers, her mouth parts in reply, “How dare you—”

“Esme!” Sam’s voice reaches out to me, giving me the anchor I need to pull myself from the dream she created.

“Esme, wake up,” Sam calls, and this time I can feel his hands on me.

The world around me begins to fade as the High Priestess watches me fade away along with it. “You will come home. You can’t hide in the Underworld forever. A Blue Mountain Witch belongs to the mountains. The Nephilim and your Wolf, you think you can have them both. You shouldn’t have them at all. There’s a reason why we don’t take Mates, child. Your heart ache has just begun. . .but I will come for you, Esmeralda. When I do, you’ll welcome me or watch them both die.

“Esme.” Sam gently shakes me awake, but instead of opening my eyes, I allow myself to cling to her last words. Is it true? Are Micah and Sam in any real danger because they are my Tether and Mate? There’s so much I wasn’t privy to within my own Coven, perhaps this is one of those things. No. Knowing the High Priestess she threw out that last bit of information to make me waver in my convictions; to make me doubt. Well, fuck her. I don’t belong to her, and I don't belong to Lucretia Larrieux. As far as my Mate and my Soul Tether are concerned, I will let my own visions guide me on that front.

Micah is still unconscious; I saw her death but she's still here. Sam lost most of his pack, but he is still here. It is time for me to trust myself, to believe in my own power. I won't be the High Priestess's pawn.

"Hey beautiful," Sam whispers softly. "Open your eyes for me." He strokes my cheek and lets his hand linger until he's cradling my head in his hands. I stretch my arms and legs but keep my eyes closed. I can feel the heat of his body as he leans over me, and I want him closer. So much closer.

He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that makes my stomach flip in excitement. He gives me butterflies, something I’ve never felt before. The eagerness to be near him, wanting him, the bond between us is begging to be completed. Just thinking about it makes me giddy.

Part of me is torn between the hollow feeling in my chest where Micah once was and the vibrant, thriving bond waiting for me, pulling me closer to Sam. I open my eyes and am rewarded with his brilliant smile, warm green eyes and dimpled cheeks. He'd been in his Wolf form since we had returned to the Underworld; the loss of his pack had been too much for him to bear. I could feel his sorrow and didn’t know how to reach him. I can only assume that his Wolf, and perhaps close proximity to me, has helped soothe the ache in his heart.

"Hey," I reply, reaching up to stroke his face, two weeks of stubble on his chin, making him all kinds of rumpled and rugged. I like it. I didn't mind waking up to a big, gigantic brown Wolf every morning, but it’s nice to finally see the man again. "You shifted." I smile, knowing it doesn’t mean he’s over what he’s lost. But he’s ready to face it on two legs instead of four. I know none of this has been easy or ideal for him. All of this had been thrust upon him and now with his pack gone. . .

"I wanted you to wake up in my arms for once, but you were thrashing in your sleep." His brows crease together in concern. "I've been calling for you for a while now. I tried not to panic when I couldn’t wake you.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I'm just relieved you've come back to me."

He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine, and I sigh, content for anything he wants to give me. I want more, but I won't push him. I don't truly know how Sam feels about me or about my tether with Micah. We never got to finish the conversation before the Academy began to fall apart all around us. I don't want to lose either of them, but does that make me selfish? To want to hold them both so close to my heart? Sam’s a Wolf, my fated Mate. Is it fair of me to want him to share me? Or maybe I should step back from Micah instead. The Tether is complete, we aren’t obligated to continue our relationship in a sexual way, but that doesn’t mean. . . Ugh, my head is a mess. Am I being ridiculous? I am out of my depth. Micah has three other Tethers and two Mate bonds. Here I am struggling with indecision about two. Sam is mine. Completely, whole-heartedly, mine. Soul deep, impenetrably, mine. I can’t be without him.

"Kiss me, Sam, please" I plead, needing more than soft brushes of his lips against mine.

"Are you sure? I didn't know how you felt about being with me, you know, considering Micah is across the hall. . .still." He pulls back, searching my face as if he's waiting for me to reject him, and the mere idea stings, making me rub my chest. I don’t want him to think I would ever push him away. He should never hold himself back from me. I am his Mate. The stars chose me. I need him to know I am truly his. I know this relationship is new between us, but I don’t want him to think the minute Micah wakes, because she will, that I will walk away from him.

"I want you, Sam. Right now, you are who and what I need." I push up on my elbow with one arm and pull him closer to me with the other, our lips inches apart. It would be easy to close the distance between us, but I want him to feel me, believe me, trust me. "Kiss me, Sam."

Our lips meet in a sweet kiss, exploratory nips and bites, strokes, and gentle touches, my soul feels exposed, wide open to him. My body hums in tune with his as the bond between us ignites.

I part his lips with my tongue as he pulls me onto his lap until I am straddling his waist, my body flush with his. Deepening the kiss, we both groan, the heat between us is electric, the bond between us pulses, pulling us closer. Sam wraps his hands around my hips, pulling me on top of his hard length, rocking me against him, hitting my clit over and over again. The room fills with sound of my moans as I seek more, needing more from him.

I whimper against his lips, breaking our kiss, wishing there were no clothes between us. I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his as I grind my hips on him, making him hiss. “Sam, please,” I beg. I don’t want to push him. I need him to take what he needs. I need him to know my heart, that fate didn’t make a mistake.

“I need you, Esme.” He kisses my lips and pulls away, holding my hips still and my heart skips a beat. Sam locks eyes with me, and I know what he’s about to say before he says it. I feel sick to my stomach, my breathing picks up and my anxiety begins to rise. I can’t lose him when we just found each other.

“Sam.” His name falls from my lips in part sob, part prayer. I take his hand from my hips, and I press it to my chest so he can feel how wildly my heart beats, even though I am sure he can hear it.

“Sam. . . I—”

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