Page 3 of Fire Touched

He hugs me close. ‘You are improving. Just… slowly.’

I snort into my coffee. ‘Yeah.’

‘Hey, it will come. Don’t worry. It’s half of who you are. It’s inside you, I know it.’

I set the thermos down, wiggling the mug so it digs into the sand. Sitting between Killian’s legs, I stare out at the water, the familiar call to the tide running through my veins. I want to run and dive in, breach the surface, and submerge myself within the cool, dark depths. I know what that means now. Where those instincts come from. I’m half Tide Witch. That was a fun surprise I found out not too long ago. But now it’s time to focus on my dormant half. The fire power I have, somewhere deep, down inside me.

I close my eyes, visualising a spark. That’s all I’ve ever really managed. Sparks. I open my eyes, trying to force something more. A flicker of a flame. A glimmer of heat and light. Something. Come on, lazy, dormant power!

A handful of sparks burst from my palm, skittering into nothing before they hit the sand. I pout. ‘I suck,’ I declare.

‘You do not,’ Killian says firmly. ‘It will just take time.’

Chapter Two

Katie

We’ve been travelling on foot for a week, but I’m still not used to our new group. Ella has become a reliable friend, the Water wolf who served as my handmaiden while I was trapped at the estate. Ella never wanted me there, let Killian take me away, and jumped at the opportunity to escape with us.

Now, she sits close to Carter by the stream. I rarely see them exchange words, but they’re of the same element, the same home. I wonder how well they know each other.

Ella has become our resident cook. Elijah and Killian go off to hunt every couple of days, bring their hunts back to wherever our camp is, skin the game, and Ella already has a fire set up and waiting, and manages to prepare scrumptious meals with herbs and roots she finds. I try not to be envious that even a Water wolf can make better fires than me.

Now, Ella hands a bowl of breakfast stew to Carter, who is perched on a rock on the edge of the stream. It’s odd seeing him every day, out here in the wilderness with us. I’ve been surrounded by the same red-headed people my whole life, and in a matter of weeks, my world has changed in ways I could never have imagined.

Every day, Carter looks the same. His shoulders are hunched, eyes downcast, face a little too vulnerable to be blank. He’s still healing from the beatings his uncle, Julian, gave him.

I watch Moira’s gaze on him, too, guilt all over her face. Neither of them have told me what really happened back at the estate. All I’ve gleaned is that Carter protected her. The details are something only the two of them share.

‘You can only do so much for him,’ Ella says quietly, handing me a bowl.

The sun spills over the horizon, warming the back of my neck, my long hair in a messy bun on the top of my head. I’m dressed in very-worn jeans and a t-shirt. I take the bowl, lowering myself to sit beside her.

The others are packing up, preparing for us to leave. I meet Ella’s gaze. When I first met her—and Carter—it seemed to me that all Water wolves looked more or less the same. A mistake, I now realise. As though all red-ish-haired Fire wolves look the same. I mentally roll my eyes at myself.

Ella’s hair is cut in a sharp line just below her chin, her golden waves like the pale light just as dawn breaks. Her soft, round face and warm, deep-blue eyes make her kind and approachable. ‘I know,’ I murmur. ‘I just… I feel awful. I don’t know what to do.’

Ella nibbles on her breakfast. We’ve given up complaining about the lack of bacon and toast, though I’m holding out for a coffee shop to miraculously appear over the next hill. ‘I’ve known Carter, from a distance, all my life. I’ve never seen him like this. He usually has this… I don’t know, bravado. Like, a cool-calm façade, I guess. It’s gone, now.’ Ella’s voice is filled with sadness.

I stir my food without eating it, my gut churning. I glance at Carter out of the corner of my eye, his bowl set aside. He always takes the food Ella gives him, but I don’t see him eat it nearly enough. ‘Did Julian ever hurt you?’ I blurt out. I know it’s blunt, and none of my business, but curiosity won the battle over propriety.

Ella doesn’t start, as though she’s long expected the question. ‘Not really. When I was younger, he’d sort of brush past me roughly, as though I were a piece of furniture.’ Her gaze finds Carter. ‘No, his wrath was mainly for Carter. I think he resents his nephew for being his only heir.’

‘That’s awful.’ I watch Carter’s shoulders, hunched and taut, as though something is about to snap in him. ‘I have to at least try.’

Ella’s eyes dart up, over my head. She holds a hand out to stop me. ‘Are you sure?’ I know her gaze is on Killian, somewhere behind me. It’s true. Carter being here has put a strain on our relationship. A cord of anger, discomfort that writhes through my mate. She’s asking me if it’s worth making that worse.

I meet Ella’s gaze. ‘He saved Moira.’ I don’t know much more than that, despite my pestering them both about it. But I guess that’s all I need to know for now. ‘I owe him.’ I set my bowl down with a tight, grateful smile to her and get to my feet.

I pad over to the edge of the stream and lower myself onto the bank. I know better than to confront Carter directly, so I try something subtler. ‘You know, Ella’s going to think she’s a bad cook if you keep avoiding her food.’ I nudge the bowl a little closer.

Carter’s gaze flicks to me. He doesn’t say much these days, but he presses his lips.

I wade into the water, the bowl in my hands. ‘Come on, don’t let the poor girl suffer. You know she’s a good cook.’ I wave the bowl in his face until his brows scrunch in annoyance and he takes it. ‘A-ha. I knew I could bug you into eating.’ Every part of me wants to set a hand to his shoulder, to offer some reassurance, but I learnt that lesson the hard way. I don’t want to see him flinch. So, I keep my hands to myself and celebrate my minor victory when he shovels a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

Unlike Elijah and Killian, who aren’t shy about walking around shirtless, Carter keeps all his clothes on. I don’t know if it’s to hide the bruises or how skinny he’s becoming—likely both—but it’s hard for me to tell how much he’s healing. I have a sinking feeling that his wolf powers aren’t helping much. I don’t know how that works.

I duck my head so I can look up into Carter’s face. ‘Did you sleep?’ I ask seriously.