Page 3 of Tide Touched

Moira has the attic to herself, and she’s always called it ‘our’ room. There are two single beds and a separate little bathroom. Moira’s side is painted baby pink and white, a little armchair beside her bed with clothes piled on it and different nail polishes scattered over her side table.

My side is scantly decorated. Anna did pick the sunburnt-orange quilt cover, knowing I would like it, and I have a toothbrush and moisturiser here, as well as a few changes of clothes, but that’s about it. I go and climb gratefully onto the bed.

Both Moira and I are only children. I’m kind of glad for that. My life sucks enough. I can’t imagine dealing with a sibling. I’d probably end up having to raise them, which I would not be good at. But having Moira is different. A sister of choice. There’s a painting under her bed we did when we were kids, of us, as grown-ups, with our wolves, playing together. I look forward to that being a reality.

I offer Moira a tired smile as I change behind the divider and climb into the second bed. At least half the time, this is where I sleep. Every now and then, Moira’s father will come home from a hunt and chase me out, refusing to house the pack freak, but until then, I snuggle deep into the covers.

I close my eyes, wondering what tomorrow will bring. Part of me desperately hopes I get a mate. The other part hopes the exact opposite. What if he’s a total asshole? What if it’s Levi? Nooooo.

Moira sits up in bed. ‘You know, whatever happens tomorrow, I’ll be there for you.’

I purse my lips at her lovey-doveyness. ‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it.’

I roll my eyes. ‘I know you do.’ Restlessness washes over my body. I toss and turn under the covers, picturing the waves lapping on the beach. Sometimes I wish my own mother were still alive, so I could ask her what she was like when she was my age. I don’t even really remember her. Dad told me she died when I was four.

Moira flicks off the light and says goodnight.

I wait for her to fall asleep, then push the covers back. I tiptoe to the window, then slide it open and crawl outside, onto the cool tiles of the roof. I can’t get my mind to still, and there’s only one way to fix that. Water. The ocean. I need to see the tide. To feel the water wash over my skin. To embrace me.

I jump down from the roof, rolling on the soft sand, and jog down to the beach. This side is rocky, and I want a good diving jump, so I start climbing the cliff face, ignoring the sting of my already-grazed palms as I grasp the rocks.

I’m used to climbing in bare feet, so the small cuts and scrapes don’t bother me. Thankfully, I can see by the light of the near-full moon. One foot in front of the other, and I’m climbing higher and higher. I love the height, overlooking the ocean. There’s a ledge not too far up. From there, I’ll jump in.

Chapter Two

Killian

My bare feet leave prints in the sand as I run. My eyes travel over the shore. There’s no one else here. Usually, the outcast girl sits near the waves, staring out into the ocean.

The moon shines brightly on the rolling waves, the foam glinting like the edge of a knife. The lapping waves and my breathing are the only sounds. Until something shifts at the end of the beach, along the rocky cliff face a mile ahead.

I squint as the moonlight catches on red hair—that doesn’t narrow it down much, as everyone in the Fire Pack has a shade of red. But as I slow my jogging and inhale, I know who it is. Her scent has become increasingly familiar over the last couple of months, since I got my wolf. I stare up at the jagged cliff face, watching her.

Sand flies behind me as I run, with my new wolf-strength and speed, I’m staring up the cliff face in just a few breaths. Katherine is scaling the cliff. She could get hurt.

Why is she scaling the cliff?

I tilt my head back and think twice about calling out to her. If she hasn’t seen me, I could scare her into stumbling off. What the hell is she thinking? I glance around, but there’s no one else about. Where’s that other girl, her friend, who always hovers around?

I sigh, dragging a hand over my face. I bite my lip. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t get involved. If I knew what was good for me, I would stay away from her.

There’s a reason most of my pack ignore her. She’s not like us.

Every day, I ignore her on the beach, run past her silently.

My breath hitches in my throat. But what if she gets hurt? I’ll have to go up there myself.

I start to climb quietly so as not to startle her, but before I can, she leaps forward, sailing gracefully through the air as my heart slides up my throat. She plunges into the depths of the water with all the grace of a Water Pack wolf.

What the fuck is wrong with this girl? And why couldn’t I have just kept running?

Chapter Three

Katie

Water embraces me, holding me close, protecting me against any harm. The heaviness of the ocean presses around me, and I open my eyes as I return to the surface, kicking to propel myself up, up, up.

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