Page 22 of Fractured Mates

I take the key that he offered before, this time being the first to walk away. Checking the nearest room number and the one in my hand attached to the key, I continue around the back side of the motel.

There aren’t any lights on this side, and the half-full parking lot leads out to a wooded area. I’m tempted to shift and run just to burn off whatever this tension is inside me but decide better of it. Pizza actually sounds damn delicious right now, and my scalp is starting to itch from the shit in my hair.

Finding our unfortunately shared room, I stick the key into the lock and turn the handle. The door sticks, the frame likely warped thanks to weather and time, but a solid shove has it opening.

I glance behind me before stepping inside. Kyler isn’t too far behind me, but I don’t wait for him. Like a petulant child, I kick the door closed and head straight for the bathroom, not taking even a second to check out the room.

Once I’m locked within the tiled space and have the lights on, I let out a groan of epic frustration. The place is surprisingly clean, but it’s Pepto pink. Everywhere.

The old porcelain, jetted tub. The walls. The counter. All of it, varying shades of pink. Well, except for the toilet that has graciously been upgraded over the decades since this place was built, likely in the 1960s.

I turn the showerhead on and get undressed before searching for towels that I find folded in the shape of hearts.

Something tells me this is their version of a suite, and I’m not pleased. Mostly because of the person I’m sharing it with.

You’re having quite the conundrum over your feelings, my wolf points out. Going from one extreme to the other. Maybe you should just settle on one and quit giving yourself whiplash.

A sneer forms on my face as I step into the shower. How about you just mind your own business?

We might be two souls, but we’re trapped in the same body, she says matter-of-factly. Your business is very much my own, fuck you very much.

My chest rumbles as I let the water run over my hair, sending red-tinged rivulets running down my body. I’ve already made my decision. Tomorrow, we’re going our own way. I’m going to sneak back onto pack lands, figure out what the hell is going on and why my family seems to be involved, then find the closure I originally went looking for. Alone.

I told Kyler I was done with him, and I meant it. Mostly. Because my wolf is right. One moment, I can’t stand him. The next, he’s making my skin ripple with feelings I haven’t felt in…maybe ever.

That alone makes this complicated, and that’s something I don’t do. He’s not my fated mate. I killed mine. More importantly, I’m not his. With the way my body and wolf have reacted to this man, I’m not willing to gamble with attachments when he could one day leave us without hesitation for the one made just for him. Hell, he might already have her. I could be overthinking this whole situation for no reason. Either way, I’m done.

This is my past that I need to deal with on my own. I need to know that I’ve moved on from my teenage trauma, and it needs to be done alone.

Why? My wolf asks, her voice—almost shockingly—filled with the utmost respect. We’ve been on our own for years and I’ve understood why, but if you’re truly ready to move forward with your life, putting the past behind you, then isn’t it time we start doing things differently?

She makes another good point, but not with Kyler. He’s still problematic, and I’m not going to waver from that decision. On top of that, I don’t trust him. I feel more than certain he’s hiding something from me. I don’t like that.

You don’t trust anyone, my wolf reminds me. But that isn’t what I’m arguing here. Dawsyn sent Kyler to help us. She said as much in her text. She’s your alpha. Or she will be soon. You should trust her.

I hear you, but?—

She cuts me off. No buts. You’re still part of the East Texas pack. If things go well here, that could change, but until then, trust your alpha. She warned you to stay away, knew you wouldn’t, and sent reinforcements for a reason. One that has already been validated when men were waiting for you to show up, ready to kill you.

Why can’t she just continue to be the horny, little wolf in my head instead of making so much fucking sense?

I’m tired and hungry and I don’t want to think about this any longer, is all I have left to say.

Thankfully, she accepts that and I finish showering without any other verbal slaps to the face. I dry off and wrap the towel around me, wishing I’d grabbed my bag out of the trunk before getting out of the car.

That is until I smell sausage and pepperoni filtering through the air. I have the bathroom door open a half second later, but I only take one step before I’m stopped in my tracks.

Kyler is standing there with his back to me, dressed only in a pair of black boxer briefs. My eyes dance over his wide shoulders, down his back that’s covered in more black and grey tattoos, over his sculpted ass, then across his muscled thighs that I immediately imagine straining as he holds me against the wall, pounding into me.

He turns around, showing off his broad chest and muscled stomach and… Nope. I refuse to look any lower when he can see what my eyes are doing.

“Pizza is here,” he says, as if I can’t manage to figure that out myself, but it’s the challenge in his eyes that gets to me the most. He’s nearly naked on purpose, and I refuse to let him win. Not even when he openly stares at my towel-clad body, raising one brow that can only be described as appreciation for what he’s seeing.

Fuck me. I’m in deep shit if I don’t get the hell out of here first thing tomorrow.

Chapter Nine

Kyler