Chapter 16 A love that Never dies

Chapter 16 A love that Never dies
Samara pov

"He loved her that much," Derrick finishes quietly, "that he didn't want to stay in a world that no longer had her in it."
The words settle deep, heavy and warm all at once.
"Do you think they ever found each other?" I ask. My voice comes out smaller than I expect.
"Yes." He doesn't hesitate. He holds my gaze like this isn't a question at all. "I believe they're together. That she's safe… and he's at peace." His mouth curves into something soft. "Sworn to a different kind of duty. The duty of caring for her heart."
My chest aches. The good kind. The dangerous kind.
And then—
"Wow. Smells delicious."
Catherine.
The spell shatters. She steps into the kitchen, inhales appreciatively, and then her eyes land on me, still perched on the counter like I belong there.
"Samara," she says flatly, "get off the counter. Good grief."
I scramble to obey, hopping down too fast, and my jeans catch on the cabinet handle.
Suddenly I'm dangling. Suspended. Legs swinging uselessly a good six inches above the floor.
"Oh my. SAM!" Catherine starts, then completely loses it.
Derrick bursts out laughing too, full and unrestrained, and I can't even be offended because the situation is objectively ridiculous.
"Stop laughing and help me!," I shouted, gripping the counter for dear life as I sway.
"I'm sorry," he says between laughs, "you look like a very angry ornament."
He steps closer anyway, hands warm and steady at my waist. He lifts me easily, like I weigh nothing, unhooking the denim from the cabinet and setting me down on my feet.
The contact lingers half a second longer than it should.

"Rescued," he says.
I straighten my shirt, cheeks burning, but I'm laughing too now, breathless, bright, alive.
His thumbs press lightly against my hips, and suddenly I can't remember how to breathe normally.

Catherine shakes her head and goes back to stirring something on the stove. "I leave you two alone for five minutes."
Derrick's hands fall away.
The space between us returns to normal.
But for a second, while the kitchen smells like garlic and something familiar and his warmth is still ghosted against my skin, I wonder if some stories don't really end at all.

 
I'm running again.
The forest is thicker tonight. Branches tearing at my arms, snagging in my hair like hands trying to slow me down. My lungs burn but the air won't fill them properly. It feels heavy. Wet and wrong.
Behind me whispers follow. Many voices layered, overlapping.
"Josephine…"
"Come home…"
"Daughter…"
The words slither through the trees, crawling over my skin. I don't look back. I don't want to see what's following me.
"I'm not Josephine!" I shout, my voice cracking. "You have the wrong person!"
The forest doesn't care.
Roots shift under my feet.
The ground dips and rises like something breathing beneath it.
I burst into the clearing.
It's wider than before. The sky above is torn open with thin streaks of silver moonlight. For a second I can breathe.
The trees stop pressing in.
The air feels thinner here.
Quieter.

Then the shadows slip into the clearing after me.
They don't rush.
They circle.
Low and slow.
Like wolves.
"Josephine…"
"Come home…"
"Come home, daughter…"
The word daughter hits harder this time.
It echoes.
It vibrates through my bones.
"I don't belong to you," I whisper.
A figure steps out from between the trees.
Jesse.
He doesn't look surprised to see me.
He looks like he's been waiting.
My stomach drops.
"What are you doing here?" I demand. "Why are you in my dreams?"
He tilts his head slightly, almost amused.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
The shadows brush closer. Cold against my ankles.
"I'm here to help you," he says. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"I'm not afraid."
That's a lie.
He takes a slow step toward me.
The shadows don't touch him.
They move around him.
"Come with me," he says quietly. "Come home."
"I already have a home," I snap. "And it's not with you."
His eyes darken slightly.
"You don't belong here," he says. "He's hiding you."
My heart stutters.
"What?"
"He's keeping you asleep."
The trees groan.
The shadows begin whispering louder.
"Wake up…"
"Wake up…"
"Josephine…"
My chest tightens.
"I'm Sam," I say, louder now. "My name is Samarra."
The clearing flickers and on the opposite side of the clearing light blooms.
Warm. Gold. Steady.
Derrick steps into view.
The air shifts immediately. The shadows recoil slightly, hissing like steam hitting fire.

"Samara." 
He doesn't shout.
He doesn't panic.
Just my name.
The anchor I needed.
I back toward him instinctively.
Jesse's expression changes. Not anger.
Urgency.
"No," he says sharply. "Don't go with him."
The shadows surge closer to me.
"He's keeping you small," Jesse continues. "Keeping you blind. You don't know what you are because he won't let you."
"That's not true," I say.
But my voice wavers.
"Come with me," he insists, stepping forward. "Wake up, Sam."
The forest trembles.
The ground cracks under my feet.
Derrick moves closer but the space stretches between us like rubber, distance warping no matter how many steps he takes.
"Samara," he says again.
The shadows claw at my wrists now.
Cold fingers.
Pulling.
"Wake up," Jesse says, louder. "Wake up."
The whispers merge into one distorted voice.
"Daughter…"
"Wake up…"
"Come home…"
"Wake up"
"Wake up"
The clearing collapses inward.
The trees lunge.
I scream—
And sit bolt upright in bed.
                  
My heart is slamming so hard it feels like it's shaking my ribs loose. Every nerve in my body is buzzing. Vibrating. The room spins when I try to focus, shadows smearing together. My vision won't settle.
For one terrifying second, I wonder if I'm having a heart attack.
The forest feels closer than the walls.
My hands are clawing at the sheets. I'm breathing too fast. The air won't stick in my lungs.
"Wake up, Mouse."
The words cuts through the static.
Low. Familiar. Steady.
I blink hard, vision still blurred at the edges, and make out a shape sitting beside me.
"Mouse. It's me."
Derrick.
His hand is already on my shoulder. Firm. Grounding. His thumb presses lightly against my collarbone, anchoring me to something solid.
The room comes back into focus in fragments. The dresser. The door. The lamp.
Not trees.
Not shadows.
Just him.
I drag in a breath that finally fills my lungs.
"I'm awake," I whisper.
My voice shakes.
His hand doesn't move. He studies my face like he's checking for fractures.
"Was it the forest nightmare again? It's okay, you're safe, I'm here." he says quietly.
Mouse.
The word lingers in my mind longer than it should.
Small.
Hidden.
Something that survives by staying quiet. By staying unseen. Something that needs protecting.
My chest tightens for a different reason now.
I nod anyway.
"I'm awake," I repeat.
But I don't know if that's what Jesse meant.
\----------------------------------------------------------
Jesse p.o.v
                   
I'm walking through the forest.
It parts for me. Branches shift out of my way. The ground doesn't grab at my boots. The air is thick, heavy, but it doesn't suffocate. It feels aware.
Like it knows me.
I move toward the clearing like I've done this before.
Because I have. In dreams. In memory. In places that blur together.
The whispers start before I see her.
Not loud.
Curious.
"Josephine…"
"Daughter…"
They're calling to her. Circling her.
She bursts into the clearing like she's being hunted. Breathless. Wild-eyed. Looking over her shoulder like something is about to tear her apart.
She looks smaller here.
Vulnerable.
Something sharp and possessive twists in my chest. The need to protect her, to shield her from all of this is instant.
She stops in the center and turns slowly, trying to understand where she is.
"I'm not Josephine," she says, her voice shaking. "You have the wrong person."
The shadows slide closer to her ankles.
I step forward.
She sees me and freezes

"What are you doing here?" she demands. "Why are you in my dreams?"
I don't answer that.
The truth is simple.
I go where she goes.
"It's okay," I tell her. Calm. Certain. "You don't have to be afraid."
She doesn't believe me.
The forest tightens around the clearing, trees leaning inward like they're listening.
"I'm not here to hurt you," I say. "I'm here to help."
That part is true.
She just doesn't understand it yet.
But I feel it. Every time she's near me, the noise inside my skull stops. The pressure eases. The chaos quiets.
She steadies me. She is part of whatever this is. Part of me.
That means something.
"Come with me," I say.
The shadows whisper louder.
"Come home…"
She shakes her head.
"I already have a home, and it's not with you."
The words land harder than they should.
"You don't belong with him," I correct.
The light comes next.
Gold bleeding through the trees like an infection. I turn before he steps into the clearing.
Her brother.
I don't even know his name, but I hate him already. Not because he gets to be near her when she hardly gives me the time of day. No, it's because of the way she reacts to him.
"Samara."
He says her name like it belongs to him.
She moves without hesitation, backing toward him like gravity shifts in his direction.
My jaw tightens.
"He's keeping you asleep," I tell her. "You don't even know what you are because of him."
The clearing trembles.
She hesitates and I seize the moment of doubt.
I step closer. The shadows coil around her wrists but do not harm her.
They're waiting, for permission.
He reaches for her.
I reach too.
I take her hand first. Softly. My thumb grazing her knuckles.
"Come with me," I say.
The distance between him and us stretches unnaturally, bending the space so he can't quite reach her.
I despise him in that moment.
Not because he's strong.
Because she trusts him.
She looks at him like he's safety.
She looks at me like I'm a risk.
I refuse to be a risk.
"Wake up, Sam," I say, louder now.
The forest hums.
"Wake up."
The shadows echo it.
"Wake…"
"Daughter…"
She flinches.
The light surges.
He grabs her wrist.
The connection snaps like a wire pulled too tight.
The clearing fractures and the forest recoils.
And she's gone.

The noise returns immediately. Loud. Violent. Crushing.
I wake with my teeth clenched so hard my jaw aches.
My room is dark but the quiet is gone.
The noise is back.
And I know two things with absolute certainty.
We are connected.
And he is standing in the way.
I will not let him keep her small.
Not when I can feel how much bigger she's meant to be.