Chapter 76: The Invitation

"Fine." Holly said in anger.

She tried to shut the door as she walked out of Sam’s house but Sam stood there so that wasn’t possible.

Outside, Holly’s boots crunched against the path, retreating slowly at first, then faster as her temper flared. She paused at the edge of the pathway before turning back, her voice sharp.

"Enjoy this little moment. But just you know, when I become Orion’s wife, I’ll make sure you both regret humiliating me like this." She spat out.

Sam’s gaze wasn’t even on her. She had learned long ago not to give Holly the satisfaction of a reaction.

The sound of stomping faded as Holly stormed away, and finally silence returned.

Tobias shifted his weight from one foot to the other on the threshold, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His dark eyes flicked to Sam, a glint of something between amusement and disbelief lingering there.

"She really thinks she’s going to marry Orion?" His tone was calm, almost casual, but a thread of curiosity wove through it.

Sam shrugged, finally looking up at him. "Probably. But you’d be in a better position than me to know that wouldn’t you? Seeing as you’re friends with him."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Orion isn’t going to marry her. He’s moved on. Goddess knows why she’s still stuck on him."

"Obsession?" Sam asked with her head tilted.

"Maybe," he nodded.

Silence lingered between them and Tobias thought of what he could say to break this uncomfortable setting but then Sam spoke up.

"Are you coming in or just standing there?" she asked without looking at him.

Tobias’s lips curved into a crooked smile. "At least Holly did something useful," he said lightly. "Normally, you wouldn’t even let me past the door."

Before she could reply, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The air shifted with him, warmer, heavier, full of his scent: leather, pine, something sharper beneath it. Sam felt it slide over her skin, an unwanted reminder of the pull she hated to admit existed.

He moved slowly, his gaze sweeping across the room as though taking it in for the first time. His fingers brushed the edge of the table, the windowsill, the back of a chair. There was a quiet reverence to the way he looked around, as if the space itself told him something about her.

"This is only the second time I’ve seen your room since..." His voice trailed, a soft roughness at the edge of the words.

Sam spun sharply, her eyes snapping to his. "Don’t," she warned.

He looked at her, the shadows of memory flickering across his features. "Since that night," he finished quietly anyway. "You can’t pretend it didn’t happen."

"It was a mistake," she said, her voice low and firm, as if she could stamp the truth into the air. "We were not thinking clearly and were just caught up in the moment. It meant nothing."

Tobias’s gaze darkened. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair falling across his forehead. "The mark says otherwise."

Her breath caught. She could feel the heat of the mating mark even now, hidden beneath her collar. Her fingers twitched, itching to cover it.

"Shut up," she snapped.

"You can’t keep denying it." He pushed.

"And you don’t have to keep reminding me of the mistake."

"It wasn’t a mist..." Tobias shook his head, riding himself if the words he was about to say.

He held her gaze for a heartbeat, then exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders softening. "I didn’t come here to argue," he said finally. "That’s not why I’m here."

Sam blinked at him. "Then why?"

He took a small step closer, enough that she could see the flecks of gold hidden in his irises. "The festival," he said quietly. "It’s tomorrow night. I wanted to ask if you’d go with me."

She stared at him, startled. "The festival? Wait the festival of the fallen?"

"Yes." His voice was steady, but there was a note of vulnerability buried deep beneath it. "Will you go with me?"

Sam’s chest tightened. She opened her mouth, closed it, then crossed her arms again as if she could shield herself with them. "Why would I do that? This festival is to honour those that the enclave destroyed. The people that died."

"But we both know you have no one that died during the attack by the enclave. You were not even a part of the pack then."

"Which is all the more reason why I have to be there. It’s to celebrate..."

"Yes, celebrate and tell our fallen family members how we are doing instead of mourning. There’s music, there’s dancing. It’s a time to celebrate and...and I really want you to go with me. I’m asking you, please?"

She looked away, suddenly very aware of the silence between them, of how close he’d gotten without her noticing. The air felt heavier now, the room smaller, his scent everywhere. Sirah stirred beneath her skin, restless.

"This is a formality, you don’t have to ask me to go with you, I’ll be there." she said, as she shifted back, trying to put some distance between them.

Tobias took another step, closing the space between them until she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. "Liar. You always hide in your home. You never attend the festival. Come with me, please?"

She backed up instinctively, but her heel hit the edge of the small table she had placed in her home. She steadied herself on it, glaring at him for moving closer even if there was no heat in it. "Why are..."

"Sam," he murmured, and something in the way he said her name made her pulse jump.

She froze. The air between them shifted, thickened, humming with an unspoken tension. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before meeting her eyes again.

"I didn’t come here to fight," he repeated, softer now. "I came here because I wanted to see you. Because even if you push me away, I still..." He stopped himself, jaw tightening. "I still want you. Badly."

Her throat felt tight. She hated how her heartbeat betrayed her, how her skin prickled with heat. "You shouldn’t, I can’t...we don’t belong together. You know that." she said, but it came out a whisper.

He reached out, slow, giving her every chance to stop him, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "But we have the mark. The goddess doesn’t make mistakes."

She should have pulled back. She should have turned her head, stepped away, thrown up her walls. But instead, she stayed frozen, caught between anger and something else she didn’t dare name.

He moved closer still, his hand lingering at the side of her face, thumb grazing her cheek. She inhaled sharply, the scent of him overwhelming her senses.

And then she kissed him.

Or maybe he kissed her. It didn’t matter. One second they were standing apart, the next their mouths met, hard and hungry, like the air had been set alight.

Her hands found his jacket, fisting the leather, pulling him closer. His arms wrapped around her waist, strong and certain, anchoring her against him. She felt the tremor in his shoulders, the low sound in his throat that was almost a growl.

The world narrowed to heat, breath, the press of his body against hers. She hated how much she wanted this, how much she needed it.

He broke the kiss just enough to speak against her lips, his breath ragged. "Tell me to stop," he murmured. "If you want me to stop, tell me now."

Her only answer was to pull him back to her, her lips crashing into his again.

His hands slid up her back, fingers splaying across her spine. Her own hands moved to his hair, tugging, desperate. For a moment, they were nothing but heat and want, the walls she had built cracking under the weight of it.

She didn’t even notice when they stumbled back against the table, his jacket half off, her shirt tugged askew. Sirah howled low in her chest, wild and aching.

"Fuck," Tobias breathed, his forehead resting against hers. "You drive me insane."

She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of a voice outside shattered the moment.

"Tobias!"

They froze.

Ronan’s voice carried easily through the thin wooden walls. "I know you’re in there. We’re going to be late. The elders are waiting."

Tobias closed his eyes briefly, his jaw tightening. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

Sam stepped back quickly, smoothing her shirt, trying to calm her breathing. Her heart still pounded against her ribs like it wanted to escape. She refused to meet his eyes.

Outside, Ronan knocked lightly on the door. "Come on, man. I’m not covering for you this time. Meeting starts in five."

Tobias ran a hand through his hair, his chest still rising and falling unevenly. He glanced at Sam, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, regret, longing, frustration. "I should go," he said quietly.

Sam crossed her arms again, her armor snapping back into place. "Yeah. You should."

He hesitated a second longer, as if he wanted to say something else, but then he turned toward the door. His hand lingered on the latch, and without looking back he said, "Think about the festival."

Before she could respond, he opened the door and stepped out into the fading light, leaving her alone with the echo of his scent, her lips still tingling from his kiss.

She stood in the center of her small house, breathing hard, her fingers pressed lightly to the hidden mark on her collarbone. She hated that part of her already wanted tomorrow night to come.