Page 42 of Savage Fate

Why was he out walking alone in the middle of the night?

And why the hell did I care?

Chapter

Thirteen

Chills raked over my scalp,and I couldn’t ignore the truth practically slapping my face. I’d sensed Saint. And his presence was strong enough to stop me from projecting to Fane.

The urge to ram my fist into a wall tore through me, but watching Saint wander the street alone dulled my anger and turned it into heartache. He didn’t deserve to be treated like the enemy. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Of the two of us, he lost the most from discovering we were fated.

I sighed and left Fane’s art room, heading down the stairs as fast as I could before losing my nerve. By the time I opened the front door, Saint had already passed the Anderses’ house, but as if he felt my presence, he spun around.

“Tate?” He kept his distance as he shuffled from foot to foot. “What are you doing awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Good thing I’d grabbed one of Fane’s hoodies, or I’d be standing out here in tiny shorts and a thin tank top with no bra. “Actually, Iamasking you the same thing. Why are you out here?”

He winced. “I’m staying at Alpha Camus’s, and Marissa won’t leave me alone.” He raked his hand through his tousled black locks. “She’s already tried to sneak into my bed twice.”

I snorted. “She’s a persistent one.”

“Sleeping in the woods might be the only way to get some peace.”

“Want to come inside?” The words dropped from my mouth before I could consider the consequences. Fane would flip his shit if he came home and found Saint and me in the house together.

“Are you sure?” Saint rocked back on his heels, hesitating in the road. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Something told me Saint would cause a hell of a lot of trouble if he thought, even for one second, I’d give him a chance.

But that wasn’t happening.

I simply felt bad for the guy.

Fane had nothing to worry about. I had absolutely no feelings for Saint Grimstone other than sympathy.

And if Fane came home and caught us—not that we were doing anything wrong—I’d deal with him.

“Fane’s not here. He’s not even in Mohan Wilds.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder to the blue-and-white two-story house. “Come on. You can try some of Dylan’s delicious snacks.”

Could Saint handle the heat like Fane and me?

Doubtful.

Saint finally moseyed my way and followed me into the Anderses’ home, keeping at least a foot of space between us. I motioned for him to sit on one of the stools at the island while I rummaged around in the cabinets.

“Look, Tate, I would never force this bond on you. I know you and Fane are together.” He dragged his hand down his face, his somber expression hitting me right in the gut. “This just took me by surprise. That’s all.”

I grabbed the container of cookies Dylan made for me and the one he made for everyone else. “I’m really sorry I can’t be what you want. I know you were hoping to find your fated. And I’m one huge disappointment.”

“Don’t say that. You’re not a disappointment.” He reached toward me but let his hand fall. “These things aren’t always perfect, and not all fated mates end up together. I’m just glad I know now. I can stop agonizing over it and find someone without fearing that my fated might pop up at the worst possible time.” His humorless laugh echoed through the kitchen.

“So you’re the glass-half-full type.” I placed a few spicy cookies on a napkin. “We never would have worked out.”

Saint’s laugh was genuine this time, and some of the tension from his shoulders faded. “I’m not that big on spicy food either. I’m bland city over here. Black pepper is as far as I go.”

I snorted. “So vanilla.”

---