Page 17 of Tide Touched

I grab his hand, desperate for some kind of connection. ‘No, what? Tell me.’

He pulls his hand away. ‘I… was thinking about my girlfriend. How… you’re not her. How you’re… Fire.’ He shakes his head, a hand tugging through his own hair. ‘This… is hard. I don’t…’ He exhales a shaky breath. ‘Look, just, get settled. I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.’ With that, he leans down and presses a swift, cold kiss to my temple and marches to the door.

I sit up, my dress partially covering me. ‘What?’ My voice cracks. I swallow. ‘Where are you going?’

He holds the door open, his head hung. ‘To… my room.’

‘With Courtney.’

Without turning or answering, he closes the door behind him with a thud.

Something in me cracks.

I open and close my mouth several times before my brain catches up. He… just fucked me. Then left. I wipe away angry tears that spill down my cheeks. I don’t understand. He’s my mate. But he’s going to keep screwing Courtney?

I get up, wincing a little at my newly-used pussy, and stare into a long mirror, taking in everything he said. He might not be a bad guy, but it’s clear he doesn’t think we’re right for each other.

As I stare in the mirror, a naked young woman stares back, her eyes cracked open and vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen. I sniffle, pushing my shoulders out. Why am I being all weepy? I blame the mate bond. I take a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.

That… wasn’t bad. It was intense. It just wasn’t what I expected. I expected warmth and tenderness. I growl, staring in the mirror. I know I’m Fire and he’s Water. I know we never would have expected to be mated to the other, but somewhere deep down inside, my self-esteem winces.

My red hair. I pull it gently out of the ponytail, my hair spilling around my slightly sweaty shoulders. I trail a hand over my hips. Too wide. Too curvy. I fold my arms over my chest, hiding my slightly red nipples from his ministrations. My very skin. Too warm for him.

To be fair, I felt his skin was too cold. His hair strangely light, like sunshine instead of flames.

I let the tears fall, angry and warm against my cheeks. I pull my clothes back on and reach for the door. Maybe a run will help get rid of some of these awful feelings. Something else to exert my body. To burn away the thoughts as I run as fast as I can in the woods. Maybe I could even run home.

Carter was gentle enough, considerate and soothing, but I’m left with this achingly empty—rather than satisfied—feeling after being with him. We need each other physically, and our souls demand each other, that much is clear. But perhaps being fated to someone doesn’t immediately come with love. I don’t know.

My hand grasps the doorhandle and twists.

It’s locked.

A bolt of panic. I yank on the door, twisting and turning, even calling on my wolf strength to force it open. Nothing.

The door is shut. I’m not getting out. My hands start shaking as a hopeless sob racks my chest. No. I bang on the door. ‘Carter!’ I shout. Even as anger makes me see red, hurt burns through my chest. I sniffle, sliding down the door.

I’m trapped.

‘Are you kidding me?!’ I shout to no one, my voice echoing through the empty room.

Chapter Nine

Katie

The insatiable need that had taken control of me, mind, body and soul, has dissipated, leaving me resentful, angry. Disappointed. I’ve never had sex before but that—that was not how I’d pictured it.

Now that Carter’s cock is out of me, I can think more rationally again. That wasn’t a give and take of pleasure as it should have been. I crouch on the ground and wrap my arms around my naked legs, his seed still sticky between my thighs. He didn’t bring me to pleasure. I should have reached it anyway, but, god, I was just so overwhelmingly focused on him.

As was he, apparently. I know he was probably consumed with thoughts like, I’m fucking a woman who is not my girlfriend and I don’t know how to deal with that, but still. Come on, man.

If I’d realised my fated mate would be him and I had enough time to worry about it, I might have looked at Carter’s cold eyes and worried that he wouldn’t exactly be patient or gentle with me. He has this cool look which makes me think he’s perpetually irritated. I guess the point is, I don’t know him.

I get slowly to my feet, my body aching, my head pounding. To my great relief, there’s a small bathroom attached to my room. I kick it open. My prison, I should say. For I cannot leave. I turn the shower on, letting the steam fill the room as I climb in, relishing the blasting water that rains down on my body.

This is all so weird and new. I rinse his scent off me. I don’t even really know what his scent is. All I feel is cold where he touched me. I try to push away the things he said to me. How I’m not her. I mean, I pushed him to tell me, but ouch. My throat burns anyway, swallowing the heavy lump in my throat.

I’ve never been overly worried about my appearance; my worries had always focused inward. That I was too connected with the tide, the ocean. Water. But he kept looking at me like I was just wrong. I choke out a laugh.

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