The Free Spirit

Chapter 4

“So is Sam short for Samantha?” Ronan asked after the waitress walked away with their drink orders.

It had been a short walk to the diner, the same place where Elias and Logan had chosen to meet months ago. Ronan had spent most of that evening there, grateful the waitress hadn’t rushed him out once he’d finished his food.

It had gotten dark while they were in the bar, but the air was still unusually warm, heavy with the lingering heat of the day. Sam had walked close enough that their arms brushed more than once, each accidental touch sending strange shivers racing up his spine.

She didn’t have a scent, which was extremely odd. Even humans had scents. Soap, sweat, perfume, something. But not Sam. No scent. No aura. No emotions or intentions that he could sense.

Nothing.

It was unsettling in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The lack of scent should have made Koda uneasy, but the wolf only seemed more intrigued by her. Just like Ronan.

“You’d think,” she said, brushing her hair back from her face so he could see her eyes clearly again.

Her eyes were incredible. Her right eye was split nearly down the middle, half a cool blue and the other half a warm caramel brown. Her left eye was mostly brown, with the thinnest sliver of blue cutting through it like lightning. He had never seen anything like it before.

“But it’s actually Samsa. No on calls me that though,” she continued, leaning back against the booth seat. “I’ve always been Sam.”

“Not Sammy?” he teased lightly.

She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. No. My dad thought for sure my mom was going to have twin boys, so he already had our names picked out. Samson and Sawyer. But I ruined his plan by being a girl.”

“I don’t think you could ruin anything.”

A pretty pink blush crept across her cheeks. “You’re smooth.”

Ronan grinned. “So you have a twin brother? Any other siblings?”

She shook her head. “Just Sawyer.”

“Are you two close?”

Her mouth turned down, and Ronan realized his mistake a second too late when she drew in a shaky breath.

“He passed away.”

The words hit heavier than he expected. “s**t. I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

“It’s fine.” Sam waved a hand like she was brushing the moment away, but her fingers trembled slightly. “It’s been a long time now. I just don’t talk about him a lot.”

Not fine. Not even close.

Ronan searched for something to shift the conversation before the sadness settled too deeply between them. “I have twin sisters, actually.”

She looked up at that, grateful for the change. “Really?”

He nodded. “They’re sixteen now. Rose and Rori.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You all have very similar names.”

He snorted softly. “Trust me. I know. My mom loves Irish names.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one. You?”

“Same.” Her eyes darted away almost immediately after answering, the movement quick enough to make his attention sharpen. Something about that felt… off.

Before he could question it, the waitress returned with their drinks. Ice clinked softly against glass as she set them down, took their food orders, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Are you from around here?” Sam asked, taking a sip of her iced tea.

“I live about an hour away,” he replied, reaching for his soda. The cold glass felt grounding in his palm. “You?”

“I just moved to the area.” She set her glass down carefully. “I’m staying in a hotel until I find a place to stay. I thought going out to the bar tonight would be a good way to meet some new people, but…” She shrugged lightly. “That didn’t work out so well.”

“I’m wounded.” Ronan clutched his chest in mock offense.

She laughed. “I didn’t mean you, obviously. Just the asshat at the bar.”

He smiled at the sound of her laughter. Light. Soft. Warm in a way that settled low in his gut.

“He was an asshat,” Ronan agreed. “I hate guys like that. Guys who think buying a woman a drink or dinner means she owes him something.”

Sam shrugged one shoulder. “I avoid going out a lot because of guys like that.”

“Well,” Ronan said, leaning forward slightly to catch her gaze, “I’m paying for dinner, but you can absolutely tell me to f**k off afterward, and I won’t get all butt hurt about it.”

She laughed again, brighter this time, and Ronan found himself smiling without thinking. Her laugh was almost as beautiful as her eyes.

“So what do you do for work?” he asked, grabbing his drink mostly so he had something to do with his hands.

“I just got a job at Smithson’s Food Services,” she explained. “I start Monday. Coordinating food deliveries.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

She nodded. “I was in Canada for a while, studying, but things weren’t panning out the way I wanted. I needed a change.” She sighed softly, tracing a line through the condensation on her glass with her fingertip. “I decided to take a chance on this job. I’m really just hoping for a fresh start. A real chance at freedom.”

Freedom. That word stuck with him. Ronan studied her quietly, trying to decide what she meant by that.

“What do you do for work?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Family business.” He took a slow sip of his drink. “Came into town to attend some meetings on behalf of my father.”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You live about an hour away?”

He nodded.

“I didn’t know there was another town that close.”

He rolled one shoulder. “Pretty small town. Not many people know about it.”

She tilted her head slightly, brown hair sliding over her shoulder. “There is a werewolf pack though.”

Ronan nearly choked on his drink. The cold soda burned down the wrong pipe, and he coughed once, hard, wiping at his mouth.

Humans didn’t usually know about werewolves. Not unless they’d had previous contact.

She smiled faintly at his reaction. “The director at Smithson mentioned it,” she continued casually. “Well, he said there’s a group we do deliveries for that requires a certain level of privacy. I assumed it was a werewolf pack, and he just confirmed it.”

Ronan stared at her, his mind scrambling to catch up. Too many questions. Too many unknowns. Too many things about her that didn’t make sense.

“How’d you learn about wolves?” he finally asked.

Sam glanced down at her hands, fingers curling lightly together in her lap. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then she spoke, her voice quieter than before. “I knew some once.”