by Starr, Maia
“Not too shabby, then,” Brendan said, chugging the last of his beer and placing it on the table to their left. “What do you say about making our own fun memories tonight?”
Sam blinked, the suggestion flying over her head. “What do you mean?”
“Want to come back to my place?” he said casually, eyes locked with hers. “I can’t say I’ll be as smooth as that guy you mentioned, but it sure would be a lot more...intimate.”
Sam caught his meaning on his last quiet word. For some reason, Sam looked around, noticing how empty the cafe had become. Glancing back, she found Brendan staring her down, waiting for an answer. She smiled, leaning on her elbows as she stared back, wishing those amber eyes of his to be much closer than they were right now. “Why not...lead the way.”
Everything happened in a blur after that. One moment, she and Brendan were pushing themselves to their feet and rushing out the door, throwing more than enough cash at the stunned cashier; the next, they were racing through the forest, hand in hand, laughing and shouting with glee in their voices. Sam could barely see where they were going, and even though wolves pierced the night air with their howls in the distance, Sam found she didn’t care. She felt safe next to Brendan, even as they flitted through the cold air and stomped over the hundreds of fallen autumn leaves.
She couldn’t say how much time it took them to reach Brendan’s home, but once they did, Brendan immediately pulled Sam to him, pressing her slender, curvy body to his, and kissed her. The kiss had been unexpected, and Sam struggled for a moment to understand what was happening. Once she tasted the salt on his lips, and a tiny bit of ketchup left behind from the cafe, Sam let herself go, sinking into Brendan’s arms. She didn’t even get a proper look at the outside of his house as they both waltzed awkwardly up the steps, and Brendan blindly felt for the door, shoving it open with a loud thud once he found it.
Finding herself consumed by Brendan, she jumped on him, allowing him to place his hands under her as her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her in like that, with her hands gripping the back of his head and their lips still playing with each other.
Sam felt the softness of a bed the next moment as she was dropped, Brendan looming above her. He began to strip, to release the muscles trapped inside of his garments. Sam watched with bated breath, biting her fingers once he finally was completely naked. It was odd to Sam, as she’d seen this man entirely in his birthday suit before, except it wasn’t until now that she knew she wanted to feel his white-hot skin engulf her.
Minutes later, Sam found herself naked as well, their bodies rolling on the bed and feeling the buzz of pleasure fill their minds. Sam ignored Brendan’s growling and grunting as he positioned himself under her, and her hips slid back to his waist. The bed began to rock as they connected with each other, sending Sam’s mind whirling in a never-ending state of skin-tingling delight. She rode unabated, throwing her curls back and groaning...until she pictured Dean dragging her to her bed.
Sam seized up, stopping her rocking, and for a moment forgot where she was. Hideous memories forced their way into her mind, and it was until Brendan, panting under her, reached up and cupped her cheeks in his hands.
“Just let go,” he moaned, gazing into her soul. “It’s okay...whatever’s on your mind, forget about for now. What matters is you and me. Here. Together.”
Sam touched the backs of his hands, kissing them and letting Brendan roll her onto her back. Brendan proceeded at an amazing rhythm, turning her mind to mush. All Sam could see was the man above her becoming one with her, gently, lovingly. Like he was holding back a monster.
But Sam couldn’t give herself fully, not even subconsciously. There was a part of Sam that made her physically push Brendan away as he stiffened, his veiny arms fisting the bed with a ferocious motion. Sam’s body rumbled with satisfaction as he grit his teeth and collapsed onto the bed, face digging into the sheets next to her. His snoring told her that he’d accidentally drifted off to sleep.
Soon enough, Sam felt her eyelids heavy as well, and sleep came for her shortly after, Dean’s scowling face crowding her mind.↡¶
Chapter Eight
Brendan
Brendan dreamed of Samantha Byrd that night after he fell asleep.
He imagined a scene in which he chased her through the forests on Silverwood Island, running at top speed to catch her. She walked away from him, smiling and vanishing behind trees, always reappearing half a mile in front of him. A heavenly aura encapsulated her, making sure to keep the encroaching darkness of the forest from reaching her. Every time she was within his reach, he would lunge forward only for her to step inches from his fingertips.
At one point, he grew so frustrated that he shifted forms, growing into his wolf body and racing after her. Sam’s face twisted, widened in shock and fear, and then suddenly she sprinted from him, making his chest explode and for Brendan to cry out.
A dark shape flitted through the forest somewhere off to his left, darting through shadows and over fallen logs. Brendan recognized the black-furred wolf as his rival, racing with a deadly focus towards Sam. Despite how loud he roared to warn Sam, or how fast he sprinted, Sam got further and further away, and Dean got closer and closer to her. Finally, with one final push, Brendan tripped over a myriad of bodies in Dean’s wake, recognizing many as his packmates. Brendan watched with horror as Dean caught up to Sam, pinning her beneath his massive paw and snapping his jaws down around her.
Then Brendan awoke, jerking up in bed and breathing hard as he stared at his open front door. He glanced all around him, touching his bare chest as he tasted his salty sweat on his lips. Steadying his breathing, Brendan closed his eyes and sighed, finally distinguishing between the nightmare and reality. Looking to his right, he caught sight of the sleeping beauty beside him. Lithe and small compared to him, Sam appeared cozy, wrapped up in the bed sheets, her slight breathing like a puppy’s, one of her rosy cheeks digging into his pillow. He brushed some hair from her forehead, and she moaned under his touch, her eyelids twitching and her nose wrinkling.
Untangling his legs from the bedsheets, Brendan removed himself from the bed, doing his best not to wake the doctor from her sleep. If he remembered correctly, she didn’t open her clinic on Saturdays, so he’d let her rest for as long as possible.
Despite what he had told her the day before, Brendan still grimaced at the slight pain running up his back. The wounds Dean’s posse had dealt him ran deep, and scars still studded his body both inside and out. Any doctor would have difficulty tending to his sudden attack, especially with so little equipment to handle every cut and bruise. Sam still amazed him with her skill and her way of putting him at ease about it all.
Dean Mondego was a monster, a demon ready to split his whole pack in half, but at least Brendan would be ready for the bastard now.
Hurrying over to the front door, he shut it quietly, stopping the cold from coming in. Usually, Brendan was pretty content leaving his front door open, allowing his pack to come to him whenever they needed to discuss some important matter or ask for advice. Of course, for now, he wanted to keep the cold from encroaching on Sam’s sleep...even if his nightmare was nothing more than a dream, he still wanted to keep Sam from anything that could bother her.
As he passed by Sam in the bed to walk to his dresser, his inner wolf growled in joy. He felt the sanest in a while simply having her in the room, and after last night’s wonderful sex, he couldn’t say that he hadn’t become smitten already.
While he dressed quietly, a hurried knock resounded at his door, the fist hitting so hard that Brendan stood still to listen to figure out who his visitor was. He didn’t need to wait long as a voice carried behind the knocking.
“Brendan, open up if you’re here! We need to talk, now! Dean’s pack is at it again, and he—”
Brendan raced to the door and swung it open while he was still shirtless to meet the eyes of his close friend Connor. The man’s usual cheeriness was gone, and he squ
inted at past Brendan to see the shape resulting beneath his bedsheets. “Oh my,” he simply said.
“What’s wrong?” Brendan asked.
“Dean Mondego,” Connor said, his voice grim. “He’s attacked more of our pack, injured a lot. No dead yet, but he’s pressing us. Without you at our helm, Dean’s become bolder than ever.”
Brendan snarled, looking back at Sam as she stirred and stretched, beginning to rise from the bed. “He’s always been bold, Connor. Now it’s just easier for him. Where are the injured right now?”
“At the Bedrock,” Connor said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. Connor’s agitation swelled and seemed to flow into him, causing Brendan’s inner wolf to grow restless and loud. “We’ve got some healers working on them, while others are patrolling the perimeter...but we might need Doctor Byrd’s help...that’s why I went there first, expecting to find both of you.”
“We, uh, decided to grab some dinner last night,” Brendan said, rubbing his neck and glancing back again at the woman wiping the sleep from her eyes. Sam was now sitting up, clutching the bedsheets to her chest, and blinking up at Brendan and Connor.
“Is something the matter?” she asked, yawning.
Connor moved to forward to open his mouth, but Brendan stopped him and shook his head. “Go tell the others to bring the injured to Sam’s Clinic. When she’s ready, she’ll be able to tend to them. Were any as bad as me?”
“No, thankfully,” Connor said. “It looks like your rival wanted to give you special treatment.”
“Then go,” Brendan said, stepping back inside. Connor nodded and shot off, vanishing from sight almost immediately. Brendan growled, pinching his temple and trying his best to subside the anger boiling in his veins.
“What happened?” Sam asked again, this time more alert. She straightened, hugging her chest, and seemed to stare right through him.
Brendan eyed her, realizing he’d need to speak carefully here. “Remember that gang attack that got me hurt so badly?” Sam nodded. “Yeah, well, apparently it’s happened again, to a lot of my friends.” Sam frowned, looking down at his bed and shivering, and so Brendan shut the door again. “Sorry.”
“How bad are they all?” Was her first question as she climbed out of bed.
“Not as bad as me, apparently,” Brendan said. “I told Connor that you’d help them out at least...is that—”
“It’s fine,” Sam said urgently, hurrying to slide on her panties and bra. “If there are people who need my help, then we need to hurry. Finish dressing, Brendan, because we need to get back to my clinic pronto.”
Brendan grinned, running to his dresser and doing as he was told. His mind raced as he reimagined putting his boot to Dean’s ugly mug. But first, he needed to attend to his injured pack. Now that he was back on his feet, Brendan would be able to avoid repeating his mistakes. Now was the time to turn things around on his rival.
“I’m ready!” Sam called. Brendan came forward, watching as she picked up her purse.
“Alright, can you head back to the clinic on your own?” he asked.
“Yes...but you’ll need to point out the way, or else I’ll get lost.”
Motioning, Brendan picked up his keys and ushered her out. On the outside, he locked his door and jumped down to the leaves, pointing off into the distance. “Just keep heading that direction, and you’ll come upon Red Wing Town. You know the way from there, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, shifting her weight. “I’m assuming you’ll be going to your friends.”
“You guessed it. Connor will need help carrying them all over...I just hope we won’t overwhelm you.”
“It’ll be fine,” Sam said, already walking off. “What matters is that your friends live. Get them to my clinic as soon as you can, okay?”
Brendan watched her trudge into the woods, picturing his nightmare where Dean hunted her. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly off, but for the time being, he couldn’t stray from his path just yet. Turning in the opposite direction, Brendan took off, vanishing into the forest, hoping not to trip over real dead bodies.↡¶
Chapter Nine
Sam
Sam paced in her living room the second she returned to her home and clinic. The place was empty and quiet, and slightly unnerving after her trek through the forest and town. There was quiet, save for the seemingly endless howls of wolves in the distance.
While she walked home, she’d sworn that someone had been following her, had been watching her as she slipped between trees and back onto the large dirt trails that led between the town and other areas close by. Yet she’d seen nothing to entertain the idea of a stalker, just the feeling of a set of dangerous eyes on her the whole way. It made her long for Brendan to be at her side.
Now that Sam was home, she constantly checked the windows, opening her shutters with two fingers to peer out into the thickening mist. The shutters scratched her fingers, gave her an itch while she nervously looked out. She couldn’t decided whether she wanted Brendan and the others to show up sooner or later, dragging in the injured and wounded.
What exactly was Sam getting herself into? Were these attacks really part of some gang war on an otherwise peaceful island? If so, that meant that Brendan was some leader of a gang, right? Brendan was big but didn’t seem the type to lead a gang, and Connor didn’t feel like the type to go around attacking others either. She wondered what kind of people he and Connor would bring in, whether they would be bulky men with tattoos or other handsome people. She didn’t think her heart could take either at this rate.
Suddenly a knock came at the door, and Sam stumbled back and rushed to the front.
“How many are there?” Sam asked as she swung the door open, expecting to come face to face with Brendan. Instead, much to her chagrin, it was Megan who stood outside, blankly sipping a cup of coffee and holding a box of donuts. Megan blinked, looking down and shaking the box slightly.
“Um, a dozen?” Megan said casually. “Though I didn’t expect you to be so excited about how many donuts I bought…” Groaning, Sam caught Megan’s arm and pulled her inside, resulting in a surprised grunt escaping Megan’s lips. Once inside, Sam shut the door and locked it, though she couldn’t rationally explain why she needed to. Megan’s surprise visit had frightened Sam for a second, and now her worry over Brendan’s and his friend’s whereabouts came back to loom over her. Megan watched Sam pace and placed the donut box on the table, gesturing towards the box as she opened. “I got red velvet and double chocolate if you want one…”
“I don’t want donuts right now, Megan,” Sam blurted, stopping to eye her assistant and tap her foot. Every second that passed, the more Sam’s worries over Brendan and his injured friends increased. The negative thoughts hounded her, causing her to rub her forehead and sit down across from Megan.
“What’s wrong?” her assistant asked, her tone bereft of her normal joy. “Did something happen in your family? Do you need some help?”
“It’s Brendan,” Sam said, causing Megan to raise her eyebrows. “Some of his friends were attacked as well. Connor says it’s some sort of gang attacking them...but I’m not so sure.”
“I’m not aware of any gangs on Silverwood Island,” Megan said, frowning. “What’s there to fight about on this island anyway? Silverwood isn’t as big as people think it is, and there’s nothing of value...unless you count wolves and trees as valuable. If anything, this place is so remote, I’m sure mainland gangs wouldn’t even know about it.”
Sam thought on her assistant’s comments, tapping her brain all the while. Is this the secret Brendan was hiding from her? She was sure there’d been something, but she couldn’t quite pick it out. It would make sense, if these gangs were trying to hide themselves...but why?
The front door slammed open moments later, her lock breaking in the process. It flew from its place on the doorframe and crashed on the floor, sliding and marking up her tile. Both Sam and Megan ducked under their arms at the s
udden explosion, peering through their arms, bug-eyed, as Brendan walked inside. His face was twisted, yet still handsome as far as Sam was concerned. Autumn cold rushed in from the outside, causing Sam to shiver and her breath to fog up as she slowly stood up.
“We need your help now!” Brendan stammered, staggering inside with an unconscious man in his arms. The man was limp, though his shallow breathing caught up to Sam’s ears as she came forward. Much like Brendan had been cut up, a huge trio of gashes cut across his chest, with his cheek and eye socket swollen. He had bled, though it looked like the bleeding had stopped long before Brendan had brought him inside.
“Kitchen, now!” Sam said, ushering him inside. She waited to check on the person Connor brought in. A young girl was curled up in Connor’s thinner arms, couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Shivering, the girl was damp around her shoulders, and while Sam couldn’t spy the wounds, blood seeped from her back, between Connor’s fingers. “Only two of them?”
“Yeah,” Connor breathed. “The man, her father, was unconscious when we found him; she’s the one who called out to us, possibly saved them both.” He followed her pointed finger, walking into her office instead of the kitchen.
“Megan,” Sam called. “You start on the girl, make sure her breathing is steady, and stop the bleeding with a cloth until I can get to her.”
“O-okay!” Megan said, startling at Sam’s voice. She hesitantly came forward and followed Connor into the office, where the girl groaned and winced at the pain coursing through her body. Sam entered her kitchen, quickly pulling on her gloves and doctor’s mask, and coming over to check on the man spread out on her table. It wasn’t sanitary, but it would do for the moment. Right now, Sam needed to inspect the wounds, stitch them up, wrap them in gauze...all the basics.