Page 29 of Tide Touched

I stare at him, willing the tears back, daring him to say it.

‘As someone for me to fuck, to get pregnant, and produce the pups of the packs the witches want, with hybrid powers.’

My hand cracks across his face. I couldn’t help it.

Carter’s eyes widen, in both shock and a flash of fear. He moves away from me on the bed. I watch his eyes darken as he presses a hand to his red cheek. Anger dominates his features.

Looking at his face, I feel sure that his patience is gone—that he’s about to strike me back.

When he reaches for me, I flinch, pulling away. But his hand caresses my own cheek, turning my face to look at him. Surely to endure some threat.

But Carter closes the distance between us. He doesn’t move to kiss me. Instead, he lays down on the bed, gently tugging me down to meet him.

Stunned, we lay in silence for a long minute, neither of us talking. That is not what I’d expected. ‘I thought you’d be angry,’ I whisper.

Carter takes a deep breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I see him wince. Perhaps I’d struck him harder than I thought. ‘I was,’ he says. Finally, he turns on his side, facing me, propped up on an elbow. ‘Not at you,’ he adds quietly. He reaches out, a soft brush of his fingers against my hip, and I can hear his words in my head. Too curvy.

Carter inhales again.

I can’t, for the life of me, figure him out. I sit up a little. ‘Stay,’ I say impulsively.

He blinks. ‘What do you mean?’

‘We can fuck later. Just… stay. Talk.’

As though too tired to argue, he nods. ‘About?’

I press my lips together, surprised he agreed at all. I fold my arms over my chest, annoyance rising. ‘Anything, Carter.’ I gesture around the room. ‘I don’t have much to do around here, you know.’

‘So, you spend your days, what, painting?’

‘Yeah.’ My voice turns stressed, strained, thinking of the limited ways I have to keep myself sane.

Carter gets up off the bed, and goes to look at my art for the first time. ‘Nice colours.’ He looks around. ‘You don’t have much here, though.’ He touches a hand to the pathetic stack of books.

‘That’s what happens when you paint for ten hours a day.’

Carter turns to me, brow raised, as though this is the first time he’s considered what my life has been like when he’s not here. ‘Right,’ he says slowly. He glances out the window. ‘You should be able to run.’ He speaks so softly I wonder if I imagined it. Then he comes back to the bed. ‘We don’t have long before supper.’ Tonight, he takes his time, as though making up for the last couple of days.

True to his word, Carter lets me come to dinner. He even waits patiently while I change into something nicer—a dress—and brush out my hair. As I approach the door, I inhale, holding my breath. Is this a trick? Is Carter messing with me, getting my hopes up? Would he do that?

My mate unlocks the door to my prison. My breath saws out of me in a rush. Carter steps out, into the hallway, then spreads his arms wide. ‘What,’ he says with a smug look, ‘did you think I wouldn’t follow through?’

I press my lips together. ‘Oh, no. You’re a very thoughtful captor.’

Carter rolls his eyes, turns and struts down the hall. Well, he didn’t blanch at that.

Upon my arrival, I didn’t really take in my surroundings. Now, I notice the halls are wide, wooden and dark. My alpha doesn’t live at his estate. He goes there to escape the pack sometimes, for quiet, I guess. I’ve never seen it, though.

Here, there are water features everywhere: a fountain on a side table, a waterfall feature set into a wall—with lights and all. I jerk my thumb to it. ‘How ridiculous is this? You don’t see us setting fire to our walls just to show off.’

Carter pauses and turns to me. His face is carefully held together, a neutral mask. ‘Don’t say stuff like that at dinner.’

I sigh. ‘You’re probably right. Wouldn’t want to offend any delicate male sensibilities.’

Carter shakes his head. ‘Hey, if you want stay in that room—’

I scoff. ‘You’re no fun.’

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