There was a good chance that Kal might not let me help. But I decided to use Beylore’s presence to my advantage. I took a deep breath and drummed my fingers on the door.
Immediately, the sounds inside stopped. “What?”
“You need a healer.”
“Iris?” Kal sounded incredulous and a bit pissed.
“Yes, it’s me,” I said and took a deep gulp of air. “I’m coming in.”
“What—no.”
Too late: I was inside, and my hand went to my mouth. Kal’s side was mottled purple, and there were bleeding lacerations across his muscled back. A gouge by his shoulder looked particularly gory.
“Why can’t you see a damn healer?” I demanded.
“I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Some bumps and bruises.” His glare didn’t stop me as I went to the sink and got a towel, running it under the hot water. “Uh, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I think I’m helping my mate.” I tried to sound as cool and collected as he did when he wasn’t being impossible. “Beylore thinks we’re the real deal. This is where I should be.” I marched over, and Kal backed away. “Hell, even if I wasn’t your mate, you need—”
“I don’t need anything.” His chest heaved. “Especially not from you.”
Bristling, I kept coming and snapped, “You haven’t even gotten your shirt off, Kal,” I said, nodding at the sodden piece of fabric around his neck. He reached up and tore it in two, throwing the pieces to the sides of the room. “Wow.”
“Leave.”
“Stay still.”
We stared at each other. I couldn’t believe those words had come out of my mouth, but with Kal standing there, bleeding and beaten to within an inch of his life, I couldn’t look the other way. Even though that was exactly what he wanted, what his eyes were begging for. He hated my concern.
Something about that struck me as strange, but I couldn’t think about it now.
“Iris, I swear—” Kal began.
“The sooner you stop acting like an idiot, the sooner I’ll be gone,” I interrupted, my mother’s fierceness rising up. Was it my imagination, or did Kal’s lips twitch? “Now, turn around and sit on that bench, please.”
Again, I had a sense of disconnect. Had I really just said that?
And, even more surprising, was Kal listening?
I watched as he moved stiffly, slowly, over to the bench and sat. Everything about him was rigid, from the hunched line of his shoulders to his hands gripping his knees and the slant of his mouth. In fact, he turned away, staring at the wall as I moved in.
“Cleanser and salve are on the counter,” he muttered, and I swiped them.
“I’ve never seen a Vorth,” I said conversationally as I set to work on his back. As I cleaned and dabbed salve all over him, I noticed both containers were getting low. “Let me guess—do they have horns?”
“Horns, claws, scales, fangs, you name it,” Kal said after a moment. “And they’re big.”
There were a million things running through my mind and trying to escape out my mouth.
Thought you said you weren’t a hero, and yet you went plunging into stupid danger.
Instead, I said, in a quiet and detached voice, “You’re almost out of this stuff.”
Then I paused and stared at it, my hands shaking and eyes blurring. It took me a few moments to realize what was wrong, and the realization was dizzying.
It was almost empty because Kal did this all the time. Treated himself instead of going to the healer. He was that stubborn when it came to accepting help. Or admitting weakness, I guess.
“Iris.” I took a deep breath and looked up, shaking myself. Kal was glancing over his shoulder at me and frowning. “Are you okay? Is it the blood?”
“No,” I said softly, and this time I was avoiding his gaze.
It’s you, you stubborn, impossible ass.
Because I’d realized that in addition to not wanting to ask for help or appear weak, Kal absolutely did not want to make room for anyone in his life. He wanted to be as alone as possible.
And that meant, the more time that passed, the more Kal would devolve into that hard-bitten loner instead of the nice, reserved man who’d saved a silly girl.
“Iris.”
“Hey, you have to stay still,” I said lightly and went back to work, trying to ignore the tremble in my hands. “Come on, I know you’re at least pretty good at that.”
This time I did get a loose, rough chuckle from Kal. His big shoulders flexed slightly as I deftly cleaned his cuts, trying not to notice the sheer bulk and strength of him under the blood and grime. Or the layers of crisscrossed scars. Unlike the rest of his pack, he had no tattoos, except for one line of script running up the inside of his forearm.
A week or so ago, I would’ve asked him why. Or at least about the one he had.
But the silence between us was too big and held its breath, as though waiting for the moment when something snapped. The bruise on my heart was acting up again.
Missed you, I wanted to say. Only Kal didn’t want that.
“This is nothing,” Kal growled and glanced back at me. “Don’t look so worried.”
I forced myself to smile and nod. “I know. I know you can handle anything.”
Doesn’t mean you have to.
“Not everything.” Kal’s voice was so low, I almost thought I’d imagined it, but he turned and patted my leg. "Thanks, Iris. I've got it from here."
I twisted the towel in my hands. “You sure?”
This was the closest I’d been to Kal in days, and the first time I’d ever been able to look down at him. From this angle, I could see the silver starburst around his iris, the light that came and went that revealed him as a shifter. Water droplets clung to his scruff, and my fingers tingled to imagine what it would be like to—
Whoa, I thought, and heat rose in my face. Something further exacerbated by the fact that Kal and I hadn’t broken eye contact. Nor had he answered my question.
He was probably spacing out on me. I’d forgotten up till now he sometimes had done that on the way to Winfyre. The remembrance sent a sharp ache through me.
“Did you say something?” He blinked and gripped his neck. “Sorry.”
“No,” I lied. Then I noticed the cut over his eye was starting to bleed again, and, without thinking, I pressed the towel to it. My other fingers skimmed his jaw, tilting his face up to mine. “Well, you’re bleeding, but you already knew that.”
I thought Kal would pull away or bark at me. Instead, his eyes closed, and he seemed to lean into me. Only the slightest bit, so it was hard to say whether it was happening or not. His scruff was soft and damp against my palm. Warm breath caressed my wrist, and my heart began to pound.
Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. That I was only making things harder for myself. That I was on a one-way street to heartache. That none of this was real.
The sooner this is over, the better.
I went to pull away when Kal gently circled his hands around my knees, his fingers brushing against the backs of my thighs. I realized I was standing between his legs, his calves pressing into the sides of mine, and then his thumb began to circle the inside of my knee.
“Thank you,” Kal murmured, and a sigh of breath tickled my arm.
At that moment, I realized that the skin I was touching was starting to burn under my fingertips. “Kal,” I said in alarm and dropped the rag, pressing the back of my hand to his forehead. Heat seemed to pulse from his skin. The instinct that had brought me up here flared again, and a tremble raced through me. “Kal, I think you’re burning up.”
He shook his head, but he was sagging a little, and his breathing was uneven. “Iris.”
“Kal, something’s wrong with you,” I said and shook him. Terror clawed through me when he didn’t respond. “Are you listening to me? Kal!”
Chapter Thirteen
Kal
Iris’s panicked voice jolted me out of my daze, a
nd I blinked up at her. “Since when are you taller than me?”
“You’re sitting down.” She was holding my face, and it felt nice, but her frantic eyes were all wrong. “Kal, I think you’re sick. Or poisoned. Or…”
“I never get sick,” I growled, and my head drooped. Vaguely, I realized my fingers were cupped around Iris’s legs. “I can fit my hand all the way around your knee.”
“You’re sick,” Iris said, and she tried to step back, but I tightened my grip, smirking. The room was broiling, and I needed her cool skin. “You need a healer.”
“I need you,” I murmured, and I pressed my face into her hand. “This is a nice dream.”
“Great. He’s delirious and has a grip of iron,” Iris muttered, and she lifted my face to hers. “Kal, please let me go.” I shook my head. “I have to get help.”
A shudder ran over me, and the room was icy cold. Shadows pressed at the corners of my eyes and spun the room around. Unsteady, I gripped the bench, and Iris pushed on my shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I muttered.
“Keeping you from keeling over, you giant,” she said, and I leaned against the wall. “Stay.” Soft fingers brushed against my forehead. “I’ll be right back. Please be okay.”
I blinked, and the room was empty. No more Iris.
A sick, twisted feeling went through my gut and snapped against my spine.
“That’s not what I wanted,” I muttered. “But I don’t get what I want. Or do I?”
The shower was nearby, and I knew I had to get to it. Staggering to my feet, I got in and twisted the knob, then sank down to the floor. Water rushed over my face, and I opened my mouth. Thirst was clawing up my throat, and I shivered, suddenly cold.
“Kal!”
Iris was there and lightly slapping my face.
“What are you doing?” I growled at her. “I’m in the damn shower, woman.”
“Iris, you’re getting soaked.” Xander was now in here, and the water stopped. “Lor?”
“Get out of my bathroom,” I snarled, and there was a silvery swish of hair as Beylore appeared. “Jesus, can’t a man have a little peace in this damn territory?”
“Poison,” Beylore said grimly, and Iris made a pained sound in her throat. I started up, worried, and Beylore pushed me down. “She’s fine. You’re the one in trouble, ice bear.”
“Since when are Vorths poisonous?” I thought I heard Luke ask.
“Can everyone get out of my damn bathroom?” I barked.
“They’re not,” Beylore said, and I winced as a ripple of heat went through my body at her touch. "This is the poison from the Stasis Bureau mixed with augris blood and something else. Reagan.” I saw Beylore hold out her hand and Reagan step forward. The pain increased, and I let out a groan of pain, closing my eyes and feeling like my veins were going to tear from my skin. “Kal, I’m sorry—I have to burn it out of you. It’s acting fast, faster than your shifter abilities can heal it.”
Pressure on my other hand was helping, and I gripped the hand holding mine. “I get it.” Some lucidity was coming back to me, and I recalled how shitty I’d been feeling the whole way home. “Do what you have to do.”
“Was this a test to see if they could take out an Alpha?” I heard Luke ask.
“In the end, he might have made it, but he would have been in a lot of pain if we weren’t here,” Beylore said, and I squeezed the hand holding mine more tightly. Agony screamed through my body and ripped apart my flesh in a nauseating burst. “Almost done, ice bear. Hold on.”
Two hands were now holding one of mine, and the pain lessened a bit.
With a gasp, my eyes flew open as consciousness and strength returned to me.
Xander standing over me, arms folded and mouth tight, Luke at his shoulder, and Reagan in front of him. Reagan was holding Beylore’s hand, who was crouched in front of me and had her hands out. And next to me, dripping with water, was Iris, holding my hand to her chest.
“Ouch,” I said weakly.
“You’re lucky,” Beylore said and rose to her feet. “Your mate may have saved your life.”
“Thought you said I would’ve made it.” I grimaced and sat back, closing my eyes. Chest heaving, an echo of pain rippled through me. Iris squeezed her hands around mine, and I squeezed back. “And thanks, honey. Good thing you were so damn bossy and barged in.”
Luke let out a small laugh and then groaned as an elbow collided with his ribs. Probably Reagan, although I wouldn’t put it past Xander.
“I said,” Beylore said, and her voice echoed loudly through my skull, “you ‘might have made it.’ Didn’t help that your body had been fighting it for hours, and it was slowly killing you. You need rest.” I cracked open an eye as Beylore left. “I’m going to send for Rogda, just in case.”
Reagan followed Beylore out, while Iris let go of my hand and stood back as Luke and Xander helped pulled me to my feet. Everything hurt, but I shook them off.
“I still gotta take a shower.” I made a face as they hesitated. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Get out.”
“The goddamn gratitude of this guy,” Luke said and left.
Avoiding both Iris and Xander, I said, “I swear. I’m standing, aren’t I? I’m okay to take a damn shower. Trust me—after that ordeal, I need it.”
“We’ll be right outside, I guess,” Iris said and slipped out.
“That’s not necessary,” I called after her and looked at Xander. “Stop her, I beg you.”
Xander shook his head and sighed, his arms folded tightly against his chest. Dark stubble ran the length of his jaw, which was unusual. He usually kept a trim beard or was shaved clean. When he looked at me, I could see the shadows under his eyes.
A different agony hit me squarely in the chest.
“You know what we’re up against,” Xander said, and there was an accusing note in his voice.
“Yeah. Sorry, man.”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t pull this shit,” my friend said. “We already have Tristan.”
He went to leave, dragging a hand across his face, and I held up a hand. Xander paused and gave me an inquiring glance. “Did you think about what I said?” My eyes flicked to the door, to where I knew Iris was standing and probably trying not to eavesdrop. “Isn’t what happened today enough evidence that…” My voice was barely above a whisper now, and I gave him a meaningful look. That it’s time for Iris to go? I asked telepathically.
Xander’s jaw twitched. “No. And if I had, I’d probably say today is enough evidence that…” His voice dropped off, and a telepathic thought sliced through me, making me wince. That she needs to stay. I huffed out a sigh, and he raised an eyebrow. And I think you two are even.
With that, Xander left.
The only thing that prevented me from putting my fist through a wall was the fact that at this moment, I didn’t have the strength.
After a stiff and painful shower, then a hobbled walk to my bedroom with Iris trailing behind, and then being chewed out by Rogda Orlov in Russian, I’d finally been allowed to eat and get some sleep.
According to Rogda, I was lucky to be alive and should thank my mate every day for the rest of my life. Then she’d marched off to figure out an antidote to the poison in case someone else got hit with it. Xander had already warned the patrols.
However, the poison burnout lingered and woke me sometime before dawn. Unable to get back to sleep, I came downstairs to find Xander and Beylore in serious conversation.
It had been a while since I’d seen Beylore and an even longer time since I’d seen her not putting on her mysterious Coven airs. She looked like a normal young woman, and it twisted my heart a bit. After we’d lost the sixth Alpha of Winfyre, right after the Rift, Beylore had become the shadow that filled his shoes. The territory wouldn’t exist without her, her Riftborn ranks, her research, and her prodigious gifts.
“I told you he’d wake up,” Beylore said and smiled at me. “Feeling better?”
“So long as
I never have to experience that type of healing again,” I said, “sure.”
“I hope you’re not expecting me to apologize for saving your life, Kallen Deacon.”
“No,” I said and shook my head. “I’m sorry. It was awful. Our shifters have been warned?”
“Fallon is taking care of it,” Xander said. “Lor and I were discussing the other unpleasantness from our border trip.”
“Right,” I muttered and went into the kitchen, getting water and a snack.
A few days ago, Xander had detected a flare-up of Excris activity to the west. Patrols had searched the area and found nothing. Worried our patrols were getting predictable, I’d slipped off to do my own investigating and found something far worse than Excris.
Packless shifters, fighting for sport and acting unusually violent. They’d been sparring in a clearing not far from the border. Whether to flaunt it or out of ignorance, I didn’t know. I’d called for backup, but they’d gotten away. But their behavior and that putrid scene were unmistakable.
I’d seen it before, in Orion’s last refuge at Kizin Mountain, when we'd suspected him of tampering with shifters to make them into the monsters the Stasis Bureau had wanted them to be. Doping them with Excris blood and giving them demon powers.
Yet after he'd disappeared, so had the corrupted shifters. In nearly a year and a half, we hadn’t seen or heard of them. If they were back, that couldn’t be good.
“I’m sure Orion is back, Alexander,” Beylore was saying to Xander when I came back into the living room, and I stopped. She was the only one who called him that, and usually never in front of anyone else. “You need to accept that and start making plans.”
“And you’re sure he didn’t want that book to wind up in Winfyre?” he asked.
“We’ve been over this,” Beylore said. “No. I think it was our good fortune, maybe with the help of Ayani and Lazu or some other good guardian, that it wound up in the hands of a Riftborn translator, and then she wound up in the hands of our Kal.” I grunted as I sat down in a chair across from them. “Speaking of which, what is with the farce of being mates?”
Ice Bear's Bid (Northbane Shifters Book 4) Page 11
