Page 3 of Twist of Fated Mates
Words fail me. “This isn’t how I imagined things going.”
“Me either.” He drags his gaze away from me and stares at the drink he can’t consume.
I hazard a guess. “You like the smell?”
A barely noticeable movement that might be a nod is his only response. He sighs, scattering the rising steam. “And the warmth,” he says, voice low.
“So, erm…” I’m not normally tongue-tied, but I’d falsely assumed this moment would be easier.
In my dreams, it goes like this. I lay eyes on my mate. He gasps. We’d be all smiles and hugs and easy conversations until we jump into the nearest bed to cement our bond like a proper pair. Instead, he doesn’t even seem pleased to meet me. What if he doesn’t want a mate?
And am I really going to settle for small talk? I suppose I am. “What brings you to the tavern?”
He raises his amber eyes to mine. He might be undead, but his eyes sparkle with life.
I could lose myself in their beauty.
“You, apparently,” he says. “Though I didn’t realize until now. Your scent drew me in.”
A swooping sensation of pure joy dances in my chest. “So you do feel it? Our connection.” I can’t hold back from touching him a second longer, but instinct warns me to be cautious. That this one spooks easily. I lay my fingers on the back of his hand. Cool to the touch. But I don’t mind.
He jerks his hand away, spilling his cider in the process. Now I mind. The rejection stings like salt in a wound, burning deeper with each breath.
Henric, the barkeep and also my cousin, appears out of nowhere with a damp towel and wipes away the spill. “I’ll bring you another.”
“No need.” Nigel stands. “I should be going. Sorry for the mess.”
He can’t be serious.
“Going? Going where?” I hop off my stool to follow. No way am I letting my mate out of my sight now that we’ve found each other. Even if he did just flinch from my touch.
Nigel drops a few bills on the counter and walks to the door.
He is serious.
But so am I.
Bells chime as he leaves, then chime again as I rush to keep up. “Wait. Nigel.”
He whirls on me, and I come to a dead stop, my nose an inch away from his chest.
“This will never work.” A flicker of sadness wavers. Then his expression hardens. “You’re better off without me, Charlie. I won’t bother you again.”
Nigel disappears.
My heart sinks. I didn’t even get to see his fangs.
I’m left standing stupidly, gaping at the empty air where Nigel vanished in front of my eyes. Except he didn’t exactly. Not quite. Rather he ran away so fast my vision was tricked into thinking he vanished.
But he’s left footprints in the sandy lot outside the tavern that lead off toward the river.
And more importantly, he’s left a scent trail.
He may be faster, but I’m the best tracker in my pack. I’ll be damned if I let Nigel get away that easily.
If he’s going to break my heart, I deserve to know why.
Yeah, maybe I’m short. Maybe I’m a little too eager. Maybe I’m not what he expected. Maybe he thinks I’m too young. Or too silly. Or not his type.
