Sammy rarely left his room. He didn’t come to the kitchen for mealtimes, preferring to eat alone. He didn’t seek out Dominic’scompany, or anyone else’s for that matter. He hadn’t even explored the house or the grounds.
Then again, a lot had happened in a short time, none of which Sammy had any control over.
His fate had collided with Dominic’s at a time when his future was murky at best. His freedom and autonomy had been threatened by his own mother. He’d been torn away from his life in Hunters Hollow and deposited in the middle of the woods with a pack of werewolves.
In that context, it made sense that he would retreat into himself, and to be fair, Dominic hadn’t gone out of his way to reach out either.
From the moment they had locked eyes at the bakery, his thoughts had been consumed with the changeling. He felt restless when he couldn’t see him. His blood pressure spiked when he thought about Sammy being taken from him, and with every passing hour, that pull became stronger and harder to resist.
He felt everything he was supposed to. He just didn’t know if he could trust it.
He had never flatly rejected the idea of having a mate. Rather, he hadn’t put much thought into it at all.
Some people romanticized soulmates, and they spent their lives pining for someone they had never met. They described the feeling as an ache, a hollowness, or like some vital part of themselves was missing.
Dominic had never experienced anything like that, and frankly, he’d seen little value in orchestrating his entire existence around a maybe. Especially when the likelihood of an Otherling finding their destined mate in this life was statistically negligible.
Simply by meeting, he and Sammy had beaten the odds, but unless something changed, he didn’t know if fate alone would be enough.
A rap at the door drew him out of his thoughts, and he looked up as Chapel strode into the office.
“Hey, boss. Saint says you need someone to go with you to Galveston.” Without waiting for an invitation, Chapel crossed the office and slid onto the corner of his desk. “What time do we leave?”
Dominic growled and jabbed at his laptop’s keyboard hard enough to crack the plastic. “I’m going to talk to some people at a nightclub. I don’t need backup.”
“Oh, sounds fun. I’ll pack light.”
To the female, that meant only two daggers instead of twelve. “It’s not that kind of mission.”
“Even better.” She held her hand up to the light and wiggled her fingers. “I just got my nails done. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of acrylic?”
He shouldn’t have expected any less. As head of security, she took her position seriously. An admirable trait that had earned her the position in the first place, even if Dominic didn’t personally need her protection.
At the moment, however, he didn’t have the tolerance for her cheekiness.
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Chapel.”
Of course, his outburst did nothing to dissuade her. Leaning back on her palms, she stared at him over her shoulder.
“Someone is in a mood.”
“Fuck off,” he muttered, unable to deny it outright.
She tossed her head back and laughed, a bright, happy sound that rang throughout the room. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain changeling, would it?”
“Why would it? I haven’t seen him since he got here.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“He doesn’t even leave his room,” he argued, but there was no heat behind the words.
He told himself he had been giving Sammy space, and he’d even patted himself on the back a couple of times for being so patient. In truth, he’d been waiting for Sammy to make the first move without offering any reason to think an attempt would be well received.
He had little respect for people who expected trust without putting in the work to earn it. Yet, he had been acting the same way by demanding Sammy’s trust without doing anything to deserve it.
Growling, he fell back in his chair, fists clenched and jaw rigid. The realization sat heavy in his chest, a quiet accusation simmering beneath his frustration.
Uncomfortable having an audience while he confronted his own shortcomings, he looked at Chapel and motioned toward the door. “You can leave now.”