Chapter 36 Part 2-2

“Samantha!” her father exclaimed. “What do you think you’re doing?” She ignored the duke. “Get up,” she snarled and rotated around the table until she was on the same side as Braeden, her blade still at his neck.  Tristan started to rise from his seat, reaching for his sword, but Sander stopped him with a look. “Let her go,” she heard Sander say. “Get up,” she repeated, and Braeden rose wordlessly from the table. If his eyes had once registered shock, he had buried it well. Sam slid the scimitar so that the edge of the blade’s middle rested against Braeden’s neck. She grabbed his wrist with her free hand and dragged him across the room. Letting go of his wrist only to open the door to exit the domed tower, Sam called, “Eat without us!”—and then reclaimed Braeden’s hand. “Where are you taking me?” Braeden asked as she hauled him down the stairs. “Somewhere we can talk without interruption, and somewhere you can’t run away.” Leading Braeden through a long corridor, Sam dropped his hand and fumbled in her belt pouch for the key to her chambers. “This will do.” She fitted the key into the lock, pushed open the door and shoved Braeden backwards onto the bed. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Pink sheets, Lady Samantha?” Her lips threatened to curve. Braeden, imposing as ever in his somber black robes, looked a little ridiculous sprawled out in her bright pink bed. She schooled her traitorous lips into obedience. “Do I amuse you, Braeden? Do you enjoy toying with my feelings?” His mouth lost its smile. “What are you talking about?” She stepped up onto the mattress and stood over him, bringing the tip of her sword to his heart. “You’ve avoided me for weeks, and now I find out you’re leaving. Would you have left without telling me?” Braeden twisted his neck, looking away. “It would have been easier.” “I hadn’t realized I meant so little to you.” She cursed the tears that welled up in her eyes and willed them not too fall. She laughed softly at her own folly. “You know, I dreamed of you while I lay unconscious. And then I woke up, and you weren’t there. I kept waiting for you to come, but you never came.” “You had Tristan,” Braeden said gruffly. “You had no need of me.” “I didn’t want Tristan! I wanted you!” The tears she’d tried to will away spilled over. “You promised me once you’d never hate me. I should never have believed you.” Braeden knocked her sword point off his chest and sat up quickly, grasping her knees. “Now who’s toying with feelings? You’re to be a married woman, Sam. You shouldn’t tell another man you want him.” He loosened his grip on her legs. “I…overheard Tristan’s proposal. Forgive me for not extending my congratulations earlier.” She glared at him. “I’m not marrying Tristan. I said no.” Braeden groaned. “Why did you do that? He was supposed to look after you.” “I don’t need to be looked after, by a husband or anyone else. And why do you think I said no, you great lummox?” Braeden’s eyes flared and then he shook his head. “Sam, you need to let me off of this bed. I have to leave. I’m bound to hurt you if I stay.” You’ll hurt me if you leave. Out loud, she said, “That’s shite. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.” Exasperated, Braeden ran his hands through his hair, pulling silver strands loose around his face. “Sam, you don’t understand. The High Commander and my master—they’re one in the same. This tattoo—” his hand traced the wings of the firebird—“is my master’s work, and it binds me to him, as surely as the last. I can’t get rid of it; I’ve tried. He could tell me to kill you, and there’s a very good chance I’d obey.” “I’ll take my chances. Braeden, don’t leave.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Maybe you’re willing to take risks with your life, but I’m not.” Sam dug her fingers into his scalp and tilted his head back. She bent over so her eyes were inches from his.  “Get this through your thick skull: I am not some fragile flower. I don’t break easily. I can defend myself from anything. Even you.” Braeden growled in frustration. “Gods, Sam, you’re not invincible. You almost died once because of me.” She moved her head so that her mouth brushed his ear. “You’re not invincible either, Braeden.” A half-baked idea formed in her mind. “I’ll prove it to you.” She jumped off the bed and raised her scimitar into the en garde position. “Fight me.” “Why would I want to do that?” Sam sucked air into her lungs and breathed out. “Because if you win, I’ll let you leave, no questions asked. We’ll say our goodbyes and that will be it.” “You know, I don’t need your permission to leave.” She lowered her sword, hurt. “I know that.” Braeden muttered an oath and then stood up from the bed.  “You’re still recovering from an injury, Sam. You haven’t any hope of winning.” She knew that, she did. She would try anyway. Braeden sighed, slipping a dagger into his right hand. “On the off chance that I lose, what do you get?” Sam straightened her shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “If I win, you stay.”