Page 18 of Fire Touched

Despite a warning bell in my mind, which sounds like my mate’s voice, I pad around until I find a sign directing me to the infirmary. It’s probably after midnight now, but I need to see Carter and Ella.

When I find the Water wolves behind a curtain, Elijah on the next bed over, getting his wound checked, I smile weakly at them. ‘Moira’s kind of passed out in the courtyard. What’s that pink drink in the fridge? She had some of it.’

Elijah’s eyes widen and he sits up. ‘You’re joking, right?’

I raise my brows. ‘No? It seemed pink…’

Elijah dashes from the bed and out of the infirmary. I’m suddenly glad I didn’t drink any of it.

Ella offers a warm smile. ‘I’m sure she’s fine.’

I look down at the slight young man in the bed. Carter’s eyes are closed, his face drawn and pale. He’s shirtless, with several, thick bandages wrapped around his chest, a spot of red blooming in the middle. I swallow thickly. Somehow, seeing him here makes everything that happened earlier much more real.

I go and sit on his side and take his hand, warm but slim between my fingers. I’m still glad I didn’t kill Julian, but I’m equally glad for the painful burns I gave him. Tears spring to my eyes. ‘This is all my fault.’ I press my forehead to our connected hands.

‘Oh.’ Ella comes and sits beside me. ‘He knew what he was doing, Katie.’

I stare at her. ‘Thank you for staying with him. I should have come down sooner.’

Ella pats Carter’s leg under the blankets. ‘He’s been asleep.’

I heave a shuddering breath. Everything feels like a mess. That dichotomy. As I look down at Carter, it’s hard to believe I once thought he was my fated mate. That even though I wanted to at the time, I ever slept with him. No, that bond wasn’t real. A cosmic blip or mistake. Maybe something to ask Elga about, but it wasn’t real like it is with me and Killian. What Carter and I have is a bond forged in pain, a fondness and protective urge for the other. That’s all.

Ella gently wraps an arm around me, rocking me a little from side to side. She doesn’t have to say anything. She’s done her work for the day. She kept me from becoming a murderer.

Chapter Eight

Katie

At some point, late in the night—or very early in the morning—I padded quietly back to my and Killian’s room, surprised I found it again. I pried the door open quietly and went to bed.

My mate and I haven’t been like this before. One of us crawling into bed late after the other, following a disagreement. That’s real couple drama. Still, I’d climbed in beside him, under the covers, and let the warmth radiating from his body ease me to sleep.

Waking beside him is something I always cherish, but as I open my bleary eyes, remembering the day before, I might have expected tension or animosity between us.

Instead, there are flowers in my face, and, at the other end of them, a sheepish looking werewolf with a dorky smile. ‘Good morning,’ he says, quite softly. ‘I got you flowers. I picked them. I even asked a stranger if I was allowed to pick them. I told them I think I annoyed you yesterday, and I might have rambled on about it to a stranger, which might have been the only reason she let me pick them—’ He cuts himself off, a slight blush crawling up his cheeks. ‘I just… I hope you like them.’

‘I do. Even more when they’re not practically up my nose,’ I say, gently withdrawing them from my face.

Killian nods, his gesture given and appreciated, then seems at a loss at what to do with himself. He’s shirtless, wearing unfamiliar three-quarter black pants.

‘You’re clean,’ I notice.

‘Hmm? Oh. Yes. I am.’ He gestures to a side-door within our room I hadn’t noticed. ‘We have our own bathroom, and there are clothes in the wardrobes.’ He holds a hand out for me, hope dancing in his eyes.

I take it, setting the flowers down on the bedside. He doesn’t say anything as he holds me close, and I let the familiar planes of his body soothe me. Wordlessly, he takes my hand, leading me to the bathroom.

When we reach the threshold, he pauses, eyes bright and open. ‘Would you like some company, or would you prefer to bathe alone?’

I stare up at him. He’s not guilting me or anything. Just asking my preference. I glance down at myself, realising just how gross I am. ‘I’d like it if you found me something to wear, then join me when I’m a bit cleaner?’

Killian smiles, then presses a kiss to the crown of my head. ‘I’d be honoured.’

I catch at his hand as he turns to go to the wardrobe, realising what he’s doing. Last night, I had a go at him for not letting me make my own choices, and for him not respecting my need to. I squeeze his hand gratefully, acknowledging the little step he made.

He inclines his head and pads over to the wardrobe as I stare at myself (with some horror) in the mirror. ‘Would you prefer a dress, or jeans and a shirt?’ He calls as I find a toothbrush.

‘Jeans!’ I call back, muffled, as I brush my teeth. I climb into the shower and sigh in relief at the variety of pleasant-smelling products, and start lathering up. It feels like forever since I’ve had a proper shower instead of bathing in streams or waterfalls. I sigh, letting the water pound down my back. It’s amazing what a real bed and shower can do.

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