Matched

Kylie & Lew

Kylie was desperate to see her mother. She needed some company—other than Lew. A sane voice. But would she be reasonable? She was stuck in the same situation. Worse—she was permanently bonded. Kylie felt herself deflate. She hadn't considered that. Kylie might still have a way out but her mother certainly didn't.

'This is it, I've lost.' Kylie dropped her head into her hands. 'It's over.'

Lew stirred in his sheets. He was lying on his back, his hands folded upon his chest. His eyes were closed but Kylie knew he wasn't asleep. How could he be with her feeling like this? He looked sicker than he did when he was back in that hospital.

Kylie squeezed her knees together as she sat at the little table. All she wanted to do was cry.

Just do it, came a voice from the back of her mind. Your old life is gone. You have a new life now.

Kylie clawed her fingers into her cheeks as she watched him. Did he know she was looking? Could he feel it? She scowled under her breath as she recalled their conversation: What do you want me to do, Kylie? Kill myself? Do what fate intended? You would be free, then.

Kylie dropped her hands into her lap. She wished she could feel that way. To have her own thoughts and feelings without them being wrapped up so deeply in someone else. Someone she didn't even know.

And she'd drunk his sperm! Kylie turned her head with a grimace. Yikes! Grabbing at her throat, she clicked her tongue. And yet the thought didn't make her feel as sick as she should be. Vomit-worthy sick. What the hell was wrong with her?

'Kylie,' came his croak.

Kylie jerked her head over. He was staring up at the ceiling with his gleaming yellow eyes.

What?! she wanted to snap but the word died in her mouth. She knew what he wanted; she knew what she wanted. Kylie stood and went over.

He looked up at her. His lips were dry as he licked them. His eyes were sunken in his head. 'Water.'

Kylie frowned. She felt a stab of anxiety. There was a tear shining in the corner of his eye.

'You're sick.' She shook her head. 'I don't want that.' Then what do you want? He can't die. He can't live. 'I'll-I'll get the doctor.'

He gave a faint smile. 'You know that won't help.'

The fear was building now, like a pressure in her lungs. It made it difficult to breathe. 'Could you really die?'

He tried to shrug but didn't have the strength, grimacing instead. 'The Wriling should have killed me. It is your connection ...' He took a breath. 'I'm not recovered.'

'You can't die.'

'That's not my choice.'

Kylie stared. He could have called those medical people. He could have forced the "third stage"—but he hadn't. She suddenly thought of her mother's partner, Halo, and how he'd been unconscious and on a breathing machine. Kylie's stomach took a dive. Her throat swelled. The room blurred as her eyes turned hot.

She felt strange, like her mind was somewhere far away, like some other brain was controlling her body as she sat down beside him and took his hand. It felt so big and warm. Leaning over, she pressed her head against his arm with a sigh. With a second sigh, she reached down for the waistband of his pants.

'You don't—'

Kylie pulled down his pants. They were both quiet. It had been a long time since she'd been with a man. Even so, she was quite sure her memory wasn't this distorted. Even when limp, it was large. Very large.