Chapter 5: The Claim (Samantha's POV)
1355 Words
The sound of the door hitting his boot made my heart jump. I froze, one hand still on the handle, the other clutching the edge of the doorframe.
“Move your foot,” I said, voice trembling despite how hard I tried to sound calm.
Jaxon didn’t move. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not,” I snapped, but I was. My fingers, my chest, even my breath, it all trembled. “You’re not coming in.”
He met my eyes, calm but unyielding. “Then tell me you don’t feel it.”
“I don’t even know what it is!” I said.
He didn’t reply, but the look in his gray eyes said everything. It burned—steady, fierce, and far too certain.
I hated it.
And I hated how much my pulse jumped every time he looked at me like that.
Finally, I exhaled and stepped back. “Fine. Five minutes. Then you leave.”
He hesitated before removing his foot, pushing the door open, and stepping inside. The air around him shifted the moment he crossed the threshold, warm, alive, heavy with something I couldn’t name.
I turned quickly, putting distance between us. My boots squeaked against the wood as I walked to the small living room. The heater hummed, and the Christmas lights I’d forgotten to turn off blinked weakly from the corner. Everything felt too bright, too quiet.
Jaxon stood by the door, snow melting off his coat. He looked like he didn’t belong in such a small, quaint space.
“You can sit,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.
He did, sinking into the couch like he’d been invited for coffee instead of a confrontation.
I stayed standing, arms crossed. “So? You got something else to add to your fairytale?”
His mouth twitched. “You think I’m making this up.”
“I know you are.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then tell me what you saw tonight.”
“I saw you make Marcus back off without breaking a sweat,” I said flatly. “What does that prove?”
“Most men your size would’ve at least struggled,” I added.
He smiled faintly. “You noticed my size?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not the point.”
“It’s part of it,” he said, voice low. “You keep trying to ignore what’s in front of you because it doesn’t fit what you know.”
“Because what you’re saying doesn’t make sense!”
He stood. I took a step back, instinctively.
“Then I’ll show you,” he said.
“Show me what?”
“Proof.”
He took a slow breath. For a second, I thought he was joking. Then his eyes changed—silver streaks flaring inside the gray, glowing faintly under the light.
The air grew thick. His muscles tightened beneath his coat, his jaw set, and his voice dropped to something deeper, rougher.
“Don’t panic.”
“Don’t panic?!”
He exhaled sharply, and for an instant, the energy around him shifted again like I was in the presence of a predator.
The room felt smaller.
He wasn’t changing into some giant beast or anything, but his energy… it wasn’t human. I felt it in the way my heart stuttered, my body reacting before my mind could understand.
“See?” he said softly. “I wasn’t lying.”
I stared at him. “You—what the hell was that?”
“My wolf,” he said.
I shook my head, trying to steady my breath. “That’s not possible.”
“It is.”
“You expect me to just believe you’re a werewolf because you what? glowed?”
He frowned. “That’s not how it works.”
“Well, forgive me for not knowing the manual,” I said, my voice rising. “You drop this insane claim on me, barge into my house, and now I’m supposed to just—what—accept it?”
He looked at me quietly. “You already feel it. You just don’t want to.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes, it is,” he said, cutting me off. “You feel drawn to me. You hate that you do, but you can’t deny it.”
His words hit like a spark in dry air.
I hated how right he sounded.
I crossed my arms tighter. “You’re confusing pity with attraction.”
“I’m not.”
“And even if you were right about whatever you think this is,” I said, voice sharp, “I don’t want it.”
He didn’t flinch. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then it’s not love—it’s a curse.”
The room went silent. His eyes darkened, his jaw tensed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he took a step closer, slow and deliberate.
“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But it’s still real.”
I swallowed hard. My pulse was racing again. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” I said, my voice cracking despite myself. “I just got out of a nightmare, and you’re standing here talking about fate like it’s some gift. It’s not. It’s a trap.”
He didn’t try to touch me, but I felt his presence all the same. Steady and grounded. “I’m not Marcus.”
“I know that,” I said. “But you’re still a man. You still want something.”
He met my gaze. “I want you safe.”
I laughed bitterly. “Safe from what? You?”
He smiled faintly. “If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have stopped him.”
I didn’t answer. My throat was tight.
Jaxon’s voice softened. “Samantha, I can’t explain why this bond exists, but it’s not just one-sided. My wolf recognized you the second you walked into that rink weeks ago. He hasn’t stopped since. And he won’t.”
“Won’t what?”
“Stop wanting you.”
Something twisted inside me. The truth in his tone made it hard to breathe.
I looked away, blinking fast. “You can’t just… show up and say things like that. You don’t get to decide what I feel.”
“I’m not deciding,” he said. “I’m asking you to trust me. Just once.”
“Trust you?” I said softly. “I trusted someone before. He swore he’d never hurt me.”
He took a breath. “And he did.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’m not him.”
I stared at him. “You all say that.”
He nodded once, like he expected that answer. “Then let me prove it.”
I looked down at the floor. My voice came out small. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You don’t have to know right now,” he said. “You just have to try.”
The quiet stretched between us, filled with the low hum of the heater and the distant wind outside.
For a moment, I wanted to believe him. His voice, his eyes, everything about him felt like gravity pulling me in. But my heart, the broken, raw part still bleeding from Marcus refused to move.
“Fine,” I said finally. “But I need time.”
His gaze softened. “Time I can give, but I'm not known for my patience.”
“What if I left town? You can't do a thing about that.”
He stood, towering but not imposing, and looked toward the door. “Let me tell you something sweetheart, as a wolf it's in my nature to hunt. You might not be my prey, but if you push me, I will hunt you.”
My heart beat quickened. “Is that a threat?”
He simply shrugged. “I’ll be back,” he said as he turned the knob and stepped out into the cold.
- Writer
