Page 14 of Fractured Mates

Chapter Six

Sophie

Iwalk away from Kyler. Not because I want to, but because I have to. He’s been in my presence for mere minutes, and he already has me flustered.

The way he handled me—like, really fucking handled me—awakened a part of me I didn’t even know existed.

I’ve been trying to tell you, my wolf says dryly. You haven’t truly been living.

My eyes roll. Hard. And attraction doesn’t equal living, Wolf.

Maybe not, but the high you get from it sure makes life more enjoyable.

A growl lightly rumbles in my chest. My annoyance increases, because she makes a point. It’s a point I’m not fond of, but I don’t make a habit of lying to myself.

It might not be him, I say, hoping that another scenario might make my erratic thoughts and the desire pooling at my core make more sense. That was the first time we’ve been home in over a decade.

That place isn’t our home, she snaps back.

My wolf is right—again—but that doesn’t mean being in that house after all this time hasn’t brought back memories from my childhood.

I catch Kyler walking in front of me, but he doesn’t say anything. I decide to follow him so that he doesn’t attempt to trap me in his arms for the third time. Overbearing bastard. I also don’t stare at his ass or notice the way his muscles shift beneath his shirt as he moves. Not even the way his dark strands brush over his neck.

While definitely not noticing all that, I keep a decent distance between us and try to figure out why those men would have been watching the house. The window I went through was my little sister’s room. Nothing had really changed there. White bedding, white walls, and wooden accents. Simple yet pristine. That seemed to be the family motto growing up.

In the hallways, I tried not to notice that none of the pictures on the wall contained my face. Not a single one. In the living room, everything was pristine, as if the place is just a model home on display. I know better, though. My mother is just a controlling neat freak. At least, she was…

I didn’t get to inspect the cabinets to see if there was any fresh food, because as soon as I’d entered the kitchen, another shifter threw a glass at my head, then attacked.

My instincts had kicked in—kill or die. That wasn’t the first time I’ve had to fight for my life, and I know it won’t be the last. Yet having Kyler walk in and see me with a man’s heart in my hand gives me conflicting feelings.

Mixed with the attraction that I undoubtedly felt when pressed against his body, I start to wonder what someone thinks of me for the first time ever. What he thinks of me after seeing what I’d done.

It’s been years since I’ve given a single shit over anyone else’s opinion. But his, I’m curious about. Especially because he hasn’t said a thing about my bloody hands and clothes. Hell, there’s even splatter on my face that I can feel drying.

All that aside…I don’t trust him. Call me crazy, because I have no reason to have decided this yet, but something about him puts me off.

The fact that he makes you feel is a really stupid reason, if you ask me, my wolf says with extra snark.

Good thing I’m not asking.

Sometimes I wish the fates had gifted wolf shifters with mute buttons for our inner beasts.

Kyler is too insistent about being here and stopping me. He doesn’t know me. He shouldn’t give a shit about what I do.

It’s his job, my wolf chimes in again. Don’t you think that he maybe just doesn’t want to get fired? Not that he has an ulterior motive?

I cross my arms and stare at his back as we travel the woods. It’s getting dark out, but that doesn’t mean my eyes stop staring and enjoying what they’re seeing.

My nails dig into my forearms. No. This attraction is fleeting. Whether I can’t trust him for reasons unknown or he’s only doing his job, he’s still not here for me. Plus, I don’t mix business and pleasure. Hell, I don’t even mix personal with pleasure.

Whatever images I’ve conjured of him since he had me against that tree…like us being naked instead of clothed and breaking everything in our path as we devour each other… None of it matters.

None. Of. It. Matters.

Plus, that asshole threw me out a window.

He deserves a little payback for that, which I plan to dish out very well. At some point.