foreign hands. sam uley ✓

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

He goes back to his house with a plan. Sam grabs a bag, fills it with clothes and then goes into the woods and shifts. In his wolf form, he can trace Sage's scent, and he picks up the bag with his mouth and follows it. He's not letting her go without properly explaining to her what happened. He's not letting her go when he just now realized what she meant to him.

Four hours later, he's in the northern forests of Canada, and his paws are on each side of her face, framing her in. Sage held up a fight, but Sam growled at her with a plea, begging her to consider talking to him before she held her hands up.

He shifts off of her, letting himself turn back into a human before reaching for the bag with clothes in it. Sam glances at Sage, who diverts her eyes somewhere else, and Sam changes as the sun starts falling below the horizon.

When he's done changing, he stares at her for a moment, feeling lost and helpless. He wants to reach out, to hold her together because it looks like she's unraveling right before his eyes and he doesn't like to see her so fragile, especially knowing that he caused it.

"Sage," he calls. "Sage, you've got to let me explain."

"I never had a choice," she retaliates, her eyes hard as she glares at him. Sam's eyes hold hers, but he doesn't think she's talking about the imprint. "My entire life, I have never had a choice, Sam. It's always been someone else's hand forcing me to do their bidding. I've been a puppet my entire existence."

No, that's wrong. The imprint isn't something that controls a life, Sam thinks. It doesn't do that. It just brings people together, brings two halves to each other to become a whole.

He reaches for her. "Sage. I should have told you."

"I do not know you, Sam Uley!" Sage's fingers get tangled in her hair as Sam pauses, gaping at her, his chest hurting like someone ran into him full force. "And I thought, why am I thinking such odd thoughts about someone I don't even know? Why do I wish to make him happy when we have spoken sparsely? Why do I enjoy seeing him smile? Why did it hurt when he spoke of Leah the way he did?"

Sam knew that talking about Leah would have consequences. "Sage, please. . ."

"But it was all a part of the bond, wasn't it? It was this-the imprint! In the forest, when you were about to kill me, you imprinted, didn't you? Seth said eye contact was the main reasoning for it, and we locked eyes, Sam. And you imprinted."

Her eyes are the coldest he's ever seen them. Even when they were painted red, they were filled with emotion, but now they were cold and heartless, and Sam doesn't know what to do about it. He drops his head and runs a hand through his hair. It feels like someone is shoving knifes into him, and he's healing but the sharp blades keep coming, over and over again, piercing his skin until he's left bleeding.

"I did," he whispers. "Sage, I did, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just. . . There wasn't a right time. You were settling in and I had just come to terms that I had imprinted on someone-on a vampire."

As soon as it exits his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say. But he can't take it back now. It's too late.

Sage asks, "What does my being a vampire have anything to do with your imprint?"

In her eyes lies something else besides the cold anger she had sent his way, and Sam feels even worse for it.

"I just-Sage, my whole life I was meant to hate vampires." He knows his eyes are watering, and that should be shameful, but it feels like he's about to lose everything so what does it matter now? "I became the very thing that protected people against them. I wasn't supposed to imprint on one. Especially someone who I thought was-was evil."