Page 17 of Embers of Fate
“Please,” she adds softly, her gaze tentatively meeting mine again. The quiet plea in her chestnut eyes crumbles my resistance. Helpless, I nod mutely and follow as she turns, leading us away from the bristling standoff in the foyer.
My mind churns as I trail her, struggling to align reality with memory. She, here in the bears’ den? How can this be?
We pause before a brawny, wild-bearded behemoth whose craggy features are creased with worry. “Samara—” he starts protectively.
“It’s alright, Dima,” she soothes without hesitation. “I’ll be fine.” Her calm self-assurance seems to mollify the towering guard. With one last uncertain look at me, he steps aside.
She slips out the front door, trusting I will follow. And so I do, helpless as iron filings to her magnet. Questions race through my mind, but I swallow them back. All that matters is staying close to her, as if she’s a dream that could evaporate at any second.
We stand alone on the manor’s porch. Unlike me, my clan didn’t make it past the gates of this Ursa fortress—what does that say aboutthem?
The chilly night air raises gooseflesh on my arms. But greater shivers come from her nearness, a captivating creature I never imagined seeing again. Bathed in silvery moonlight filtering through an ancient oak, she steals the very breath from my lungs.
Her off-the-shoulder satin gown clings flawlessly to every curve, its rich blackness setting off the creamy rose glow of her skin. Lustrous chestnut hair spills around her bare shoulders in tousled waves, begging to be touched. She is resplendent, unreal—too exquisite to be of this earth.
I can’t help but admire her straight, delicate nose and full, rosy lips that teased my fantasies for days. The memory of kissing them with fervor in the darkened club floods my mind, followed swiftly by the acute wish to reclaim them now. With great effort, I force my hungry gaze back to her questioning eyes.
I lick my dry lips, pulse racing out of control. “What are you doing here?” I manage to rasp out, my voice rough with barely leashed desire.
She clasps her hands before her, lowering her eyes as if suddenly bashful. “I... I live here,” she admits softly. I can tell by her expression that she’s as shocked as I am.
Her hushed confession confuses me further. I shake my head in denial. “What? No. That’s impossible—this is Gavriil Alexeev’s estate.”
Her delicate brows rise ever so slightly as our gazes lock. “Yeah…” she exhales, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I am his sister.”
Ice skitters down my nape at the sound of those words.
Her pale cheeks bloom crimson as she daringly studies my reaction. I suck in a sharp breath, grappling to accept this bombshell revelation. “Jesus-fucking-Christ…” I mumble—and I’m not even Catholic. The fates toy with me cruelly. She is the forbidden fruit of the most dangerous branch of all. But surely our paths crossing again is more than mere chance. It must be destiny intervening, no matter how star-crossed.
“Why areyouhere?” she asks hesitantly. Her tone holds no accusation, only bare curiosity tinged with apprehension. She worries about what my uninvited presence means for her family. If only she knew that I, too, fear this collision of worlds that should never have met.
“I came with Bram,” I explain simply, still dazzled by her hypnotic presence. At the mention of my reckless brother, panic flashes in her expressive eyes. She presses a hand to her mouth, slender shoulders tensing.
“Please tell me you are merely his driver,” she whispers through her fingers, fear cracking her melodic voice.
The plea wrenches my heart, but I cannot lie. “He is my brother,” I confess gently.
She inhales sharply, the truth landing like a physical blow. Silent tears pool in her luminous eyes. “No, no...” she breathes, horrified. “This cannot be happening.”
I rake a hand through my hair, turmoil churning within me. “Draken and Alexeev,” I muse bitterly. “Of course.” Cruel fate would bind me to the one woman whose clan has sworn vengeance against mine for centuries untold. Any union between us could only end in tragedy, like something from the bloodiest tales of old.
Fierce protectiveness wars with despair inside me. She seems so delicate, trembling like a frightened doe before a hunter’s bow. But there is an undeniable ferocity in her spirit—I glimpsed it that night we came together so passionately. If only I could shelter her from the bitter storms to come.
But the words stick in my throat.I am the enemy—she has no reason to trust me.
“Your name is Samara,” I say instead, savoring the sweet taste of it on my tongue. Her full name at last; now irrevocably seared into my mind.
A hesitant smile tugs at her rosebud lips, thawing the fear in her eyes for an instant. “You can call me Sam,” she offers in a hushed voice.
Hearing her grant me such warm intimacy unravels the last frayed threads of my composure. In this suspended moment, nothing else exists but her. Not warring clans or family legacies steeped in blood. Just two souls, laid bare under the watching stars.
I return her tentative smile, a foreign giddiness bubbling up inside me. “Yeah, I heard that when you and I...” I trail off, spellbound by the play of moonlight across her elegant cheekbones, turning her skin to alabaster. She steals my very words, reducing me to a mute admirer basking in her presence. Back at the club, we shared passion deeper than anything I’ve ever known. Here, we forge something much more perilous—understanding.
“Nikolaas!” Bram’s furious bellow shatters the stillness.
I flinch, loathing the interruption. Bram storms onto the porch, eyes blazing with heedless fury. His strong hand closes on my arm in a painful viselike grip as he attempts to drag me away. “We’re leaving. Now!” His uncompromising tone brokers no debate.
But I stand firm, muscles cording in resistance. “Unhand me,” I demand through clenched teeth. “Go if you must, but I’m staying.” For once, I will defy him and follow my heart, wherever it may lead. Tomorrow be damned.
