Katsu kisses me.
It’s sudden and toe-curlingly good. I arch up into him, grabbing his shirt in my fists to hold my shaking body upright. It doesn’t last long, just long enough to ruin my world.
“You are adorable, Cordelia, but in this instance, wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“His family would understand and forgive him. We’ve already spoken with his parents, and Sebastian has apologised.”
“He has?”
I feel this strange pang, like I’m being left out or forgotten again.
He strokes my cheek with his thumb, and when he pulls it back, I see he’s captured a tear. I lift my hands to my cheeks, swiping them away as he sucks on his thumb, taking my tear, stealing it.
“I’m coming back tomorrow for our first official date. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
It takes just a few minutes to wash the dishes, and I stand where he left me, watching the efficient way he moves around the kitchen.
I don’t know what people are thinking. Katsu in real life is nothing like the character I created. He makes my creation look flimsy, weak, and fragile.
This alpha is a wall of strength, complex and deep with interesting thoughts and knowledge, and that kiss was nothing my imagination could conjure.
“Goodnight, Cordelia.”
He touches his lips to my cheek, and then this alpha that I tried to dream up turns and walks out of my home. I sag against the kitchen bench, my fingers touching my lips, his words echoing in my head.
And again, I remember belatedly, that I can’t have them.
Chapter 8
Sebastian
I’m staying at home one more night; that was the deal I made before I agreed to their madness. I can hear all my family moving quietly throughout the house. Mum has been crying. She doesn’t want me to leave. It took meeting Katsu before she finally listened and agreed to let me go without fighting.
I hate that I made her cry; the only thing worse was my dads when they were looking at me with fear.
Even my sisters have been avoiding my temper. I lay on my bed with my arm under my head, staring at the ceiling. My room is large for a kids bedroom but most of the room is taken up by my art stuff. There’s a poster on the roof of a band I liked when I was thirteen, and I keep figurines of movies on my bookcase. My favourites are the dinosaurs, but as I turn my head to stare at them, I can almost feel their accusations. I shouldn’t have shouted at her again. I huff and get up and load the laptop.
I read her reply and smile.
“Now, that is going to cost you extra.” This saucy minx is my absolute only escape. Becoming friends with her has been anabsolute highlight and maybe the only reason I’m managing to hang on.
I type back, speaking my answer out loud as if I were talking right to her. “Starting work on the cover tonight. Are you sure you want to go with a safe version? I can use myself as a model? Curious?”
I glance up and see her window. The light turns on, and my heart thuds hard in my chest as I reach down and pull out my copies of Lynn Marino’s books.
She never looks at me with fear.
Cordelia Lake doesn’t see me as a threat, and she never has, not when I’m yelling, breaking things, not when my rut is riding me, and not when I’m showing her all the parts of me she should run from.
Why haven’t I told her who I am? Why hasn’t she revealed who she is? This stupid flirting game. I thought a few years ago that our friendship might break from the tension between us, but these emails have been a release. We can keep fighting and pretending to the rest of the world, but at night, when no one else knows who we are, I see her.
And she sees me.
I don’t have to be strong or into fishing.
I don’t have to go drinking.
