Chapter Thirteen

Kal

 

Iris’s panicked voice jolted me out of my daze, and 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?”

“Ask your brother,” I muttered, and the air in the room went taut. “Sorry.” I hunched over my mug. “I’m exhausted. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“It was prudent,” Xander said in a hard, brittle voice.

“So, they’re really going to pretend they’re mates, and then what?” Beylore asked. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of fated mates breaking up. And what if the other territories don’t take kindly to being duped?” She was giving Xander an intense and probing look. “Alex.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

“I mean, there is one solution that I think the two of them could live with. Maybe would have even wound up there if this silly charade hadn’t been thrust upon them with the best intentions...”

Xander glared at Beylore. “What was I supposed to do? The Burnfur and the Greyclaw were—” He broke off, and a small grin curved into his cheeks. “Wait, what did you…?” She shrugged, and his grin went wider, eyes flashing to me. “Huh. Well, maybe I will win that bet.”

“Tristan only wins bets when other people lose on purpose,” Beylore said out of nowhere. “He’s not as great a gambler as he thinks he is.”

My head was starting to hurt from pretending I didn’t know what these two were getting at. “While this is riveting, what about the book? Where is it?”

Beylore sighed and snapped her fingers. The book thumped onto the coffee table in front of me, and a fissure of ice seemed to go through the room. “It doesn’t take kindly to me.”

“So, no luck?”

“It going to require time and a lot of research,” Beylore said, and she waved her fingers carelessly. Big crates appeared around the perimeter of the room, and I tried not to groan. “These will help. But for right now, the Coven needs to focus on trying to find Orion and reversing the effects of the corrupted shifters.” Her eyes went flat. “We do not want another Stasis Bureau. This book, I believe, is Iris’s task.”

“Dammit,” I muttered. “I wanted to keep her away from this.”

“Be that as it may, it came into her possession. And Sarrow wanted to auction the two as a set, which meant even he realized she had the best chance of breaking Orion’s codes.”

“And what a strange coincidence that she ran into a master codebreaker, too,” Xander said innocently, and I sat back, hunching my shoulders. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lor?”

“I dabbled,” I protested. “Just another skill.”

“Like being a field medic,” Xander said.

“Hey, I told you I didn’t think your stomach could handle it,” I said, almost grinning. When we’d become Special Forces, Xander had become my poor, weak-stomached assistant.

“Kal, you know this is how these things work,” Beylore said, and my face tightened. “Think of your cousin and Laia. Happy coincidence or an excellent turn of the wheel in our favor?”

“A mate is a distraction I cannot afford to have,” I said. “How am I the only one who can see this? You two baffle me.”

“Reagan helped get Winfyre to the smooth operational point it runs at today. Laia brought us intel on Orion and the crian shards, and also helps keep the peace in Winfyre. Sierra helped us forge relationships with the Tiselk and helped us understand Slinkers and Scouts better.” Xander paused. “Honestly, I don’t want to picture where Winfyre would be without them.”

“Yes, but with Reagan came the Barrowmen and the vryke. With Laia…” I ran a shaking hand through my hair, thinking of the hell my cousin had been through. “She saw Rett succumbing to the shard, jumped to her death to prevent it, survived by the skin of her teeth, lost her memories for a minute there, and nearly destroyed my cousin’s heart.” My chest was heaving now. “And Tristan. I mean, Sierra had him distracted for five years while he tried to track her down through the damn Tiselk. He’d run off and disappear, then I’d have to go find him and drag his ass home. And even then, he almost died in Orion’s mountain prison cell. Tortured for information on how to destroy you.”

“You can’t blame yourself for any of that. Rett and Tristan made their own choices,” Xander said, sounding half-irritated, half-amused. “Glad to see you at least don’t blame yourself for Luke’s demons, though I’m sure you’ve tried. And you need to stop blaming their mates.”

“I’m not blaming anyone, especially their mates or myself,” I said, and Xander snorted. “I’m just not closing my eyes to the consequences of being distracted.”

“Glass half-empty,” Beylore said under her breath.

“I think it’s better to have at least one Alpha who is unattached,” I retorted, and rage rippled through my chest. “God forbid we need to have someone lay down their life for this territory again.” Beylore and Xander both stilled. “I’m not saying those three wouldn’t do it, but they can’t. Especially not Rett or Luke—they have kids.” My throat went tight. “We have to be practical. Think about what’s happening right now. What if these corrupted shifters…what if it’s worse?”

Xander shook his head. “We don’t know anything yet—let’s not assume the worst.”

“Someone has to,” I growled and folded my arms. “Someone has to be ready to face it.”

“There’s no telling what will happen,” Beylore snapped. “There are no guarantees of anything in life. You seize happiness when you can find it.”

“I don’t have that luxury.”

“You tell yourself you don’t.” Beylore was starting to lose her temper, and Xander was keeping still with difficulty. “You’re blind to what is right in front of you. You think it was a coincidence that Iris risked pissing you off to come upstairs and check on you? No, she sensed something was wrong. And even in all that pain, when you thought she was in trouble, I saw the way you reached for her.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Xander let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Yes, it does.”

“So, you’re going to close off your heart and live alone because there might come a time when Winfyre is in danger?” Beylore snarled. “And you might have to die for it? Honestly, Kal.”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Yes. And I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

“What about you, Kal?” Beylore demanded. “What about your own damn heart?”

“I’ll be fine,” I muttered. “Winfyre comes first. It has to.”

“Kal, you know I’ve never asked you to take on that burden,” Xander said.

“I’m not getting into this argument with you again,” I retorted. “You are essential to Winfyre. Without you, the wards come down, and the territory would be decimated like that.” I snapped my fingers. "We've already been on the brink of that once—you want to risk it now? With thousands living here in peace, families, children, and infants?"

Xander let out a hiss of breath but didn’t argue. He couldn’t.

“One day, we might be able to change that,” Beylore said faintly.

“One day,” I said. “Until then, Xander needs someone like me.” My eyes briefly met hers. “We had someone else who thought the same way. And he shouldn’t have been the one to die that night.” I stood up and went towards the stairs, fury and guilt surging through me. Why was everyone being so damn blind? “It should have been me.”

“He’d disagree,” Beylore said, and I paused at the bottom of the stairs.

This wasn’t something we’d ever discussed before, and I wasn’t sure why or how we’d wound up here. Xander’s temper was fraying, I could sense it. But Beylore’s had vanished. Now she sounded sad, and her voice wobbled when she spoke again.

“He’d tell you that you can’t live like you’re already dead. And he’d call you an idiot for even thinking of letting Iris go.”

“Nah,” Xander said in a thick voice. “He’d slug him.”

I looked back, anger and grief warring in my chest. “Well, seeing as how Brody can’t do either at the moment, I’m going to do what I think is right.”

A strangled breath escaped me as the air in the room seemed to evaporate. Beylore looked down, and Xander glared at me. His knuckles had gone white, and how he hadn’t lunged across the room, I didn’t know. Maybe through the same steely self-control that kept this territory in one piece.

“And besides, Iris doesn’t think of me like that,” I heard myself say and swallowed hard. “She never will, even if I have to make sure of it.”