Page 39 of Embers of Fate
“Sam!” Nik rushes down the stairs to meet me, his voice thick with relief and concern. “Sam, I was so worried! I’ve been looking for you all morning!”
I brace myself for the impact of his embrace, for the warmth of his arms around me and the desperate press of his lips against mine. But as he draws closer, I become acutely aware of my own disheveled state, a flush of shame heating my cheeks.
Despite the chaos of the night before, despite the fear and exhaustion that must surely be weighing on him, Nik looks as handsome and radiant as ever. But me? I’m a hot mess, my clothes filthy and torn, my skin smudged with dirt and ash. My burnt arm throbs with every beat of my heart.
And my hair... gods, my hair. It hangs in limp, tangled strands around my face, reeking of smoke and sweat. I can’t help but wrinkle my nose in disgust. I desperately need a long, hot bath.
When he reaches me, his steel blue eyes scan my body from head to toe, taking in every scrape and bruise. And then, inevitably, he notices my sore arm. Nik’s expression slackens, his eyes widening in horror as he gasps in outright dismay. “You’re injured...” he mumbles, shock giving way to a deep, aching pain that etches itself across his handsome features.
“It’s nothing...” I try to dismiss his concern, not wanting to add to the guilt I can already see weighing on his shoulders.
“Don’t say that!” he growls, his voice rough with emotion. Nik’s hand flies to his mouth, his face flushing as his eyes fill with tears, one spilling down his cheek, a wordless expression of the depths of his agony.
He tilts his head to the side, the gesture so reminiscent of his dragon form that it makes my heart clench. Nik leans closer, cupping the side of my face with his hand, his touch infinitely gentle despite the turmoil I can see raging in his eyes. “Sam,” he whispers, my name falling from his lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. “If I can’t control this beast... If I can’t... then... maybe we shouldn’t...”
I see where this conversation is headed, and a deep, visceral dread settles in the pit of my stomach. A frown creases my brow, my heart seizing in my chest. “Shut up,” I cut him off, shaking my head vehemently. “Don’t you dare say those words.” My throat clenches tight, making it hard to breathe, to think past the panic rising like bile in my throat.
“Sam, I hurt you…” he whispers, wariness deepening his pitch, his eyes shadowed with a pain that mirrors my own. “And I can’t even remember it!”
“Youwillbe able to control it,” I assure him, smoothing a hand along his muscular arm, trying to anchor him with my touch, my certainty. “I know you will. It just... takes time.”
“Time?” He scowls, frustration and fear warring in his eyes. “I don’t even know when I will shift again... My dragon could kill you!” A glazed look of despair spreads across his face, and it breaks my heart to see him so lost, so afraid.
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood, to chase away the shadows that cling to him. “It almost threw me off the terrace.”
“What?” He flinches, concern twisting his features, his hands tightening on my shoulders.
I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a deep, exasperated sigh. Why did I have to bring that up? I mentally berate myself for being so reckless. “Listen, if it’s anything like the Ursa shifting, it won’t happen anytime soon...” I try to reassure him, though I can tell my words are falling on deaf ears. “It can take months for the second shift to happen.”
Nik takes my hands in his, pressing them against his lips in a gesture that’s both tender and desperate. He lowers them slowly, his ocean eyes locked on mine, a world of emotion swirling in their depths. “I won’t put you through this, Little Bear...” he breathes, his voice breaking on the endearment. Nik purses his lips, an adorable dimple piercing his left cheek, but the resolute set of his jaw belies the pain I know he’s feeling. “I just won’t.”
I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched, the air rushing out of my lungs in a whoosh. “What are you saying?” I manage, my heart shattering into a million jagged pieces.
“I’m saying,” he whispers, each word like a dagger to my soul, “you’re better off without me.That’swhat I’m saying.”
Shock reverberates through me, followed swiftly by a wave of nauseating dread. “You’re... You’re breaking up with me?”
He remains silent, his eyes saying everything his lips cannot.
Pain and worry strain me through and through, my vision blurring with unshed tears. “Nik...?” I breathe.
As my world crumbles around me, something steals my attention—a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. A familiar SUV pulls into the driveway, and my blood turns to ice in my veins as I recognize the figure behind the wheel: the fiercest Ursa fighter the Elite team has ever known.
Dima.
“Oh, fuck...” I mumble, my heart seizing with a new kind of terror.
“Listen, it’s not easy on me either...” Nik adds, but his words are drowned out by the roaring in my ears.
My mouth goes slack, my mind reeling as I try to process this new development. How would they know where to find me? “How...?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Huh?” Nik frowns, confusion creasing his brow.
“Nik…” I begin, ready to explain, to beg for his understanding, when the manor’s front doors burst open with a resounding bang. I wince, knowing exactly what’s coming... or rather, who.
My brother’s heavy footsteps echo in the double-height vestibule as he storms in, his face a thundercloud of rage. Sheer black dread splinters through my bones, turning my knees to jelly.
Even then, I muster the courage to step in front of Nik, shielding him with my body, my hands raised in a placating gesture. “Gavriil, let me explain…” I say, hoping against hope to appease his fury.
