Page 18 of Tide Touched

Perhaps Fate has a cruel sense of humour. Only a Water Pack wolf could want me, it seems. Anger makes my jaw clench, and I finish washing my hair, lathering my body up in whatever this soap is to get rid of Carter’s scent. As my hands wash the apex of my thighs, at the cursory stimulation, my need rumbles back to life.

Here I am, mentally bitching about my mate, and yet, I wish he would come back. Would use those fingers on my clit. Would bring me to climax in a way I hadn’t realised I’d taken as a given. I rinse my body, keeping my hands away from my pussy, too tired and annoyed to bring myself pleasure.

So, how does this work? We’re insanely attracted to each other physically, but since he doesn’t like me, and has a perfectly blonde, skinny, cold, fuckable girlfriend, I’m to be kept in a guest room? Way to make a girl feel special.

I turn the tap off with a thud and thankfully find a clean towel. I now realise that I only have the dress Moira handed me. I stare at the ground, the dress crumpled up on the floor.

My belly growls in hunger. I haven’t eaten since this morning, that sandwich Moira had given me on the beach. I miss her.

I wrap the towel around myself, grateful for the comforting fluffiness. I stare around the room. The bed takes up most of the space, side tables framing it. There’s a single armchair on the other side with a little table and a dresser at the foot of the bed.

I go to the dresser and pry it open. ‘Of course it’s empty,’ I mutter to no one.

A soft knock on the door has me clutching the towel around me. I frown. ‘Who is it?’

‘My name is Ella. I’ve brought you clothes and supper.’

‘Oh.’ I clutch the towel around me, hoping I’m all covered. ‘Come in.’

There’s a young woman on the other side of the door, perhaps only a year or two my junior. She’s holding a tray of steaming food and has a bag over her shoulder. She offers a tentative smile.

‘Hi, nice to meet you.’ Ella steps inside—quickly closing the door behind her with a click—sets the tray down on the dresser and places the bag on the bed, which she proceeds to unpack efficiently.

‘So, who are you?’

‘I’m, uh, your lady’s maid, for want of a better term.’ Her short, golden hair reminds me a touch of Moira. She looks warmer than any other Water wolf I’ve seen so far. ‘Our alpha is a little old fashioned. He suggested I work with you since you’ll be staying here from now on.’

‘Yeah,’ I spit. ‘That’s kind of what happens when you kidnap people.’ Resentment boils in my belly. My grip tightens on the towel covering me.

Ella straightens, alarmed, and turns to me. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

Loneliness seeps into me. Carter doesn’t want me. Not really, and I miss my home, even if it wasn’t perfect. ‘I don’t want to be here. I mean, kind of. I don’t know. I just—Carter’s… look, whatever.’

Ella tilts her head, and I notice that her eyes are blue, but darker, warmer than Carter’s. To my relief, she turns, realising I’m having trouble with my words, my thoughts. ‘You must be exhausted.’ She steps back, and I realise she’s laid out a set of pyjamas for me with a toiletry bag next to it. Including a hairbrush which I should use now.

I take the brush and lift it to my hair, then flinch. The memory of Carter tugging on it comes back, my head stinging. I know he hadn’t really meant to hurt me, that I’d begged him to do something to distract me, but I set the brush aside.

Instead, I use my fingers, combing it out mid-way down—away from my scalp. The door to the bathroom is open. In the mirror, I watch Ella move about my room, setting folded shirts, jeans, underwear, bras, socks, and jumpers in the dresser. ‘Come, eat your food before it gets cold.’ In her navy-blue dress, she indicates the armchair, moving the tray over to the little table there.

‘I think I’ll change first.’

Ella nods. ‘I need to go, but I’ll return with breakfast in the morning. Let me know then if there’s anything else you need.’

I turn and face her. ‘Am I a prisoner here? The door was locked.’

Ella’s long, golden lashes fan her pale cheeks. ‘That—’ She makes an uncomfortable sound. ‘You are Carter’s mate,’ she says.

That’s a yes. ‘Get out,’ I say softly.

Ella’s dark gaze meets mine. Instead of surprise or hurt, sympathy graces her pretty, round face. She inclines her head and takes her leave.

I shouldn’t bother, but I can’t help myself. I rattle the handle. Locked.

After changing and eating, exhaustion weighs heavily on my bones. I climb into the large and comfortable bed. It’s way fancier than anything I’ve ever seen before, let alone used. But I don’t like it. It’s too big. Too empty. I turn, facing the window. Too lonely.

I sit up and go over every inch of the room, searching, searching. I look at each item of clothing Ella left, reluctant to admit that I’m grateful. I go through the toiletry bag, rifling through the single cupboard in the bathroom, but it only holds toilet paper, soap and spare towels. I go to the table and chair and move it around, the loud scraping shrieking. I set it all back.

Finally, I look out the window.

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