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He pushed 13

He pushed 13

13 Chapter 13 

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I could not stop thinking about her. Everything about tonight, about her, felt off. She was no longer the Samantha I remembered. The shy girl who used to blush every time I so much as glanced her way had vanished. This Samantha did not shrink back. She met my eyes, fired back sharp words during our encounters, and held her ground like she did not care what I thought of her anymore. 1 

The world tilted dangerously as I tried to make sense of the situation. My thoughts felt sluggish and my body heavier with each passing second. 

I glared at her, but I knew she was right. There was no way I could drive myself home like this. The alcohol had settled heavily in my system, and the thought of getting behind the wheel was foolish. 

It was not just her attitude that had changed; it was her whole presence. She walked into a room like she belonged there, like she did not need anyone to grant her a place. The way she carried herself now-it made me see her differently, and I hated that it made me question things I had always thought I knew. 

She raised an eyebrow, unbothered by my attitude. “You look like you need a ride.” 

“What do you want?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. 

The way he hovered around her tonight grated on my nerves more than it should have. He liked her. It was obvious in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the way he spoke to her. He adored her so much that it made me contemplate my decisions in life. 

I blinked, trying to focus, but the rain outside blurred everything. The scent surrounded me, comforting and infuriating all at once. My fingers twitched, reaching out instinctively. 

“I figured you would still be here,” she said, sliding into the seat across from me. 

“Are you?” she countered, gesturing in front of me to the empty bottle of rum that I had 

taken from the bartender. 

Her lips crashed onto mine, and I held her waist, firmly, pulling her closer. “Samantha,” I whispered, her name tasting bittersweet on my tongue. 

19:19 

13 Chapter 13 

The car ride was a blur. I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes against the spinning world. My thoughts, as always, drifted to Samantha. Her face, her scent, the way she had walked out of the meeting tonight like she did not care what anyone thought. I groaned, feeling myself hardened at her image. 

She leaned closer, the warmth of her breath brushing against my skin. A pair of hands cupped my face, trailing my jaw, and placing kisses at my neck. 

I clenched my fists, the phantom image of Killian pulling her closer burning in my mind. 

My wolf paced restlessly, agitated by thoughts I had no business entertaining. Whatever 

was going on between them, it was none of my concern. But that did not stop me from 

wanting to put an end to it. 

Olivia did not say anything as she led the way out of the bar, her heels clicking softly 

against the floor. The cool night air hit me like a slap when we stepped outside, the faint drizzle from earlier turned into a steady downpour. I barely noticed. 

I could not stand to see her with him. 

And when Samantha walked out of that meeting with him, wearing that silk nightgown 

that clung to her like a second skin, my thoughts spiraled into darker places. What the 

hell was she doing dressed like that around him? It was not just the way she looked, though that alone had been enough to make my blood simmer. It was the way Killian’s arm had slid freely around her shoulders as if he had every right to touch her, to claim her. 

“I’m fine.” 

What the hell was wrong with me? 

The bar was quiet now, most of the patrons gone. I had stayed longer than I should have, nursing drinks that dulled my senses but not my thoughts. 

But I did not see a mark on her, that means he had not claimed her, and that knowledge, at least gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction. 

My head lolled to the side, my vision blurry as I forced myself to stay awake with my eyes barely open, and for a moment, I caught a familiar scent. 

But tonight, for the first time, I started to wonder if I had been wrong. 

19.19 

Samantha? 

A soft giggle answered me while a hand roamed at my chest and my muddled mind 

relished at Samantha’s touch. I blinked, struggling to focus. My head was spinning but the faint scent of her- of Samantha-was all I could cling to. 

Dominic’s POV 

Samantha had always been a mystery to me, but lately, she was something else entirely. After six years since she vanished, she returned like a very different person- fiercer and 

more outspoken. 

It should not have mattered. And yet, the idea of her with Killian- or anyone else, for that 

matter- made something raw and primal rise to the surface. 

How did we end up here? 

My mind betrayed me, conjuring up images of what might happen between them once 

they were alone. Would she let him get close? Would she let him see her the way she 

used to blush and look away from me? My wolf snarled at the thought, the sharp edge of 

jealousy cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. 

I could not remember. But I did not care anymore, Samantha was here, and that’s all that 

matters. 

Then there was Killian. That bastard. 

For years, I had convinced myself that Samantha had somehow planned our arrangement. A wolfless Luna? The thought had been ridiculous. My mother must have had her 

reasons, but I was certain Samantha had a hand in it. She had to. Why else would 

someone like her be paired with someone like me? 

And it threw me off. 

“Dominic.” A voice pulled me from my spiral, and I glanced up to see Olivia approaching. She smiled, her polished demeanor was still intact despite the late hour. 

“Samantha,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. 

“Whatever,” I muttered, standing unsteadily. 

 

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