Page 33 of Embers of Fate
“Sam...” I choke out, my lips pursing as I drop to my knees, burying my face in my hands. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I weep, hot tears spilling down my cheeks as sobs wrack my body.
And then she’s there, her delicate hands smoothing over my jawline, her touch a balm to my battered soul. She kneels before me, her eyes searching mine until our gazes lock, hers full of unwavering resolve and undiluted love, mine brimming with dread and uncertainty.
“I’m here, Nik...” she whispers, her voice a lifeline in the darkness. “I’m not going anywhere.”
On an impulse born of desperation and love, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me, burying my face in the crook of her shoulder. Her fingers glide through my hair, her touch soothing and gentle as she draws me closer, peppering my cheeks, my nose, my lips with soft kisses that chase away the shadows of my fear.
This is a first for me—this vulnerability, this openness. I’ve never let anyone see me like this, never allowed myself to be weak or afraid in front of another person. But with Sam, it feels right, feels safe in a way that I’ve never known before.
For once, I don’t feel alone. I feel loved, cherished, accepted for all that I am and all that I may become. And as I cling to her, my face wet with tears and my heart full to bursting, I know that whatever tomorrow brings, whatever challenges we may face, we’ll face them together.
Because that’s what love is, in the end. It’s the willingness to stand by someone’s side, to weather the storms and face the darkness, no matter what. And as I hold Sam in my arms, I know that I’ve found that kind of love, the kind that lasts a lifetime.
Come what may, we’ll find a way through this.
20
NIK
Ioverslept. When I open my eyes, the space beside me is empty, the sheets still warm with the memory of Sam’s body. Sunlight glares through the bay windows, filling the white room with a radiance that borders on painful. Last night, we fell asleep in each other’s arms, her presence a balm to my troubled soul, filling my heart with an inexplicable sense of peace. Is this what it feels like to have found my mate?
It is.
Sluggishly, I rise from the bed, reality crashing over me with each blundering step towards the shower. As the cool water pours over my head and trickles down my face, I try to come to terms with the truth. This is who I am, who I’m meant to be, no matter what happens. The blood of the dragon lineage courses through my veins, a legacy I can no longer deny.
As I brush my teeth, I notice a subtle difference in my reflection. Leaning closer to the mirror, I bare my teeth, my eyes widening at the sight of pointy fangs. Fear and uncertainty churn in my gut. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m flying blind into uncharted territory. But as I head downstairs, I cling to the one conviction that anchors me: this is my destiny, my birthright.
Gods, it’s so late. Sam let me sleep in, a gesture that fills me with warmth and gratitude. She’s amazing, a true wonder. I can’t imagine anyone else standing by my side after learning that their boyfriend is about to turn into a fire-breathing beast. But Sam’s not the type to run from a challenge. I should have known that from the moment I saw her smash that bottle at the nightclub.
A smile curls my lips at the memory, a snicker escaping me as I shake my head. Fuck, I love her. It’s as simple and profound as that. I love her with every fiber of my being, with a depth and intensity that threatens to consume me.
The sound of activity draws me towards the kitchen, my heartbeat picking up speed as anticipation rattles through me. I long to see Sam, to hold her in my arms and kiss her senseless.
I enter the room silently, my breath catching in my throat at the sight that greets me. Sam stands behind the kitchen aisle, a piping bag in her hand as she carefully ices the top of a delicious-looking vanilla cake. Her phone sits nearby, a video of a famous pastry chef instructing her on the finer points of cake decoration.
My heart melts, a rush of emotion so powerful that it takes everything in me not to sweep her into my arms right then and there. Instead, I linger in the doorway, watching her work with unbridled enthusiasm, a side of her that few people get to see. This fierce, ruthless woman, who once threatened to stab a man with a broken bottle, is also sweet and loyal, a beguiling contradiction that captivates me completely.
“Looks delicious,” I say playfully, a smile tugging at my lips.
Sam’s gaze snaps to mine, startled by my sudden appearance. But then her face lights up, her lips stretching into a delighted grin. “It’s keto-friendly, too.” She snickers. “Happy birthday,” she says with a shrug, a subtle pink hue tinging her cheeks.
I cross the room in a few long strides, slipping my arm around her waist the moment I’m close enough. Her body yields against mine, soft and pliant, the pastry sleeve falling forgotten onto the counter. “I... I’m not done yet... with the...” she mumbles, her eyes darkening with lust as they meet mine.
Unable to resist, I swipe my finger through the icing, gathering a dollop of sweetness before bringing it to her lips. Her mouth parts, allowing me to slip my finger inside, and I watch with rapt attention as she tastes the frosting. Then, before she can react, I lean in and capture her mouth with mine, my tongue teasing her lips apart and lapping at hers with tender strokes. The flavor of vanilla mingles with the unique taste of her, intoxicating me, stoking the embers of desire that always seem to smolder between us.
Slowly, reluctantly, I pull back, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “As I said,” I purr, my voice low and rough, “delicious.”
Sam takes a shaky breath, her eyes wide and dazed. “Whoa...” she whispers, pressing a hand to her chest. “That was nice.”
I scowl, feigning offense. “Nice?”
“Morethan nice,” she concedes, smoothing her hand along my arm, her touch soothing and electric all at once. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good,” I lie, not wanting to burden her with my worries, my fears about what’s coming.
She licks her lips, a gesture that sends a bolt of heat straight to my core, before taking my hand and leading me to the breakfast room. We sit by the window, the sunlight casting a warm glow over her features, making her look even more ethereal than usual.
“So... I have a plan,” she says, her voice brimming with confidence.
