Page 3 of Twisted Ties

Where was my choice? Where was all my say in this? What does this mean for me now? Chained to the side of a man who clearly doesn’t want me. Fated to be dragged around after him wherever he chooses to go.

No, no way. There has to be a way to undo this.

As the morning light filters through the clinic window, the blackness fades to a charcoal, then a murky gray and I see he is awake. Awake and watching me.

“You didn’t sleep,” he says.

“No,” I say.

It’s harder to stay angry at him when I can see his face.Because, damn, it is a beautiful face, and his eyes, his eyes possess a power all of their own, making every part of my body tingle with anticipation.

“How do you feel?”

I chew on my lip. How do I feel? Angry, yes, but also tired and confused.

He leans forward, and that hook in my stomach grows stronger, the tingles across my skin more rampant. He lifts his hand and, after a hesitation, touches my cheek.

I gasp, closing my eyes, because I don’t want him to touch me and yet I do. It’s all I can think about. His touch on my skin. His touch everywhere.

He slides his fingertips down my cheek, and the pulse in my throat leaps.

“They’re going to fix your leg this morning.”

They didn’t want to do it yesterday. Not after the draining of my magic, not with the newly formed fated bond so raw and … I blink my eyes open and stare up into his face. How had the doctor described it? Unstable.

“Will you be here?” I ask, because I can’t bear the agony I felt yesterday when he stepped out of the room.

“They’re going to give you something for the pain, Rhi,” he reassures me. “But … I’ll stay if that’s what you want.”

I glare at him. I don’t know what the hell I want.

“I want to be alone,” I snap. Do I? The sensations in my body say otherwise, but I’m so damn angry with him. “I want my pig. I want to see my friend. I want–”

A knock sounds on the door.

The man in black, Azlan, turns toward it, then back to me. “Come in,” he says.

It’s the nurse from yesterday. Her gaze swings between us with a sort of awe, like we are the most amazing thing in the world.

“Good morning,” she says, brightly, “I’ve come to get you ready for the procedure.” She walks towards the bed. “How are you feeling?” Before I can answer, she leans in to whisper, “Do you need to use the bathroom?” I nod. “Do you want him in or out for that?”

I blush so hard, I’m pretty certain the nurse must feel the heat from my cheeks. “Out.”

“Would you mind waiting right outside the door, Sir?” she asks.

His eyes dart to mine and anxiety flickers across his expression. Does it hurt him as much as it hurts me when we’re apart? Somehow I doubt it. Somehow I suspect that lucky gift is reserved entirely for me.

“I need to pee,” I say.

My fated mate stares right back at me. “I’m not leaving.”

“And you are not watching me pee.”

“I’m not leaving you in agony again.”

“The pain shouldn’t be as intense today,” the nurse reassures him.

“But it will still be there.”