Chapter 4: The Confrontation (Jaxon's POV)
1228 Words
The moment she bolted from the car, I knew she wasn’t going to listen. Samantha slammed the door so hard the truck shook, her auburn hair flying as she marched up the snowy path toward her porch.
She moved fast, head down, hands stuffed into her pockets, like she could outrun what I’d just said.
We’re fated for each other.
I should’ve waited. Should’ve let her breathe. But I couldn’t. The moment I saw her with that i***t earlier, the way he grabbed her, the way her scent hit the air like crushed roses and heartbreak—it snapped something in me.
I was already out of the truck before I thought about it.
“Samantha,” I called.
She didn’t stop.
I used a fraction of my speed and stepped in front of her. The snow crunched beneath my boots as I blocked her path.
Her eyes shot up, wide. “How—” She froze mid-sentence. “How did you get here so fast?”
I didn’t answer that. “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” she said sharply. “You said something insane, and now you’re standing on my porch like some kind of stalker.”
Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I kept my tone calm. “It’s not insane.”
She gave a dry laugh. “You just told me we’re fated for each other, Jaxon. Do you hear yourself?”
“Perfectly,” I said.
She shook her head, turning for the door. “You’re unbelievable.”
I caught her wrist—not hard, just enough to stop her. She stiffened but didn’t pull away immediately.
“You feel it too,” I said quietly.
Her eyes flicked to mine, those sharp green irises flashing. “Feel what?”
“This,” I said. “Whatever this is between us.”
Her jaw tightened. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
“You met me today.”
“Doesn’t change the truth.”
She yanked her hand back. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Maybe,” I said, “but I know what I’m saying.”
She crossed her arms, glaring. “You think throwing around words like fate is going to make me forget the disaster of a night I just had?”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
I hesitated. There was no point in lying—not with a bond this strong thrumming under my skin. “Trying to tell you the truth before you start building more walls.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And that truth is what? That I’m some random girl you think destiny handed to you?”
“Not random,” I said, stepping closer. “I found you because I was supposed to.”
“Supposed to?” She let out a humorless laugh. “God, you really believe this crap, don’t you?”
Her words burned, but I forced myself to stay steady. Losing control wouldn’t help her understand.
“I’m not human, Samantha,” I said.
That made her blink. Then she laughed again, louder this time. “What?”
“I’m serious.”
“Okay,” she said, sarcasm cutting sharp. “You’re not human. What are you then—Superman? Vampire? Some kind of Christmas spirit sent to ruin my week?”
I didn’t flinch. “Werewolf.”
The laughter stopped. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
I took a slow step toward her, my breath clouding in the cold air. “You asked how I got here so fast? That’s how.”
She stared at me, her brows knitting together. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“This is crazy.”
“Is it?” I said softly. “You saw me stop Marcus tonight without even trying. You felt it, when I touched you, when I stood near you. The pull between us.”
She shook her head, backing up until her shoulder brushed the door. “No. You’re just… trying to mess with me. That’s what guys like you do.”
“Guys like me?”
“Cocky. Confident. Too smooth for their own good.”
I stepped closer, close enough for her breath to hit my chest. “I’m not trying to trick you, Samantha. I’m trying to make you understand what’s happening.”
“What’s happening,” she snapped, “is that you’re scaring me.”
That cut deep. I took a step back. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“Then stop saying things that make no sense!” she said, voice trembling now. “Fated mates? Werewolves? You sound—” She stopped herself, swallowing.
“Say it,” I said quietly.
“Delusional,” she whispered.
I nodded once. “If that’s what you want to believe, fine. But it doesn’t change what’s real.”
Her eyes darted toward the doorknob. “I think you should go.”
I stayed still. “You can tell me to leave all you want, but the bond doesn’t care. My wolf doesn’t care.”
Her gaze snapped back to me. “Your what?”
“My wolf,” I said. “He’s been restless since the moment I saw you. Your scent is special and it’s driving him insane that he can't be close to you. He wants you.”
Her breath caught.
I dropped my voice, firm but honest. “I want you.”
For a long second, the only sound was the snow falling around us. Her eyes softened just a little, but then the wall slammed back up.
“No,” she said. “You don’t. You just think you do.”
“I know,” I said. “This isn’t something I think. It’s instinct. It’s nature.”
“Nature?” She let out a shaky laugh. “You expect me to believe in something like that after what I just went through?”
I clenched my jaw. “Marcus hurt you. I get it. But I’m not him.”
“You’re all the same.”
“I’m not,” I said, my voice low, steady. “If you’d let yourself see it, you’d feel it too.”
She turned the doorknob, her hands trembling. “You need to leave.”
“Samantha.”
“I said leave.”
I reached out, but stopped inches from her arm. I could hear her heartbeat even from there, fast and uneven. My wolf growled low inside, desperate to close the distance, but I held him back.
“This isn’t going away,” I said. “You can pretend it’s not real, but it’ll find you again.”
“I don’t want it,” she whispered. “Whatever this is, I don’t want it.”
She opened the door. Warm light spilled out onto the snow, touching her face. I saw the tears she was trying to hide.
“Goodnight, Jaxon,” she said quietly.
I moved before she could shut me out. My boot hit the edge of the door just as it swung. The wood thudded against it.
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
I met her gaze, unflinching. “I’m not leaving.”
- Writer
