Chapter Sixteen

Kal

 

We liked to joke that no one could throw a curveball quite like Xander Bane. He was a master of assessing a situation and hitting all the right spots to crack it wide open.

“What—no, you’re…” It took me several moments to orient myself, and Xander shot me a grim yet satisfied smile. Dismay shot through my veins. “You can’t think…” I shook my head, and my voice became harsh. “Xander, no.”

“Kal, when you were being healed on your bathroom floor, you were in so much pain, it was like you split open. I felt it.” His jaw clenched. “And you know what drove it back?”

“Beylore?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

“No, the woman holding your hand. The one who saved your stubborn ass.”

“Enough, Xander,” I said and waved a hand at him, standing up. “I’m going.”

“You broke all the rules to save her,” Xander said as I walked to the door. “Lie to yourself all you want, but eventually, you’re not going to be able to anymore.” He paused, and I did, too. “I just hope you won’t have completely ruined your chances with her by that point.”

“Nothing to ruin,” I said lightly. “One look in my head doesn’t tell you everything.”

“No, but one look at your face when you see her does.”

 

Leaving HQ, I walked all the way to the Point and paced down the beach. The waves were nothing but white smudges of foam when they rolled in, breaking up the great, heaving black mass. No stars were out. Nothing but heavy clouds and cold winds.

I’d meant to get to bed early. By the time I got home, it was past two a.m.

I hated when Xander got like that. When he was earnest and serious, instead of ruthless and direct. It reminded me that once, Brody had been the oldest, and he’d gotten into debates with him about shit like that. Xander and Beylore, as much as I hated to admit it, were right, though.

Brody would’ve kicked my ass and sold me out to Iris at the same time.

I clapped my hand over my face as I stood at the front door and groaned.

Dinner. Dammit.

Wasn’t this proof I wasn’t cut out to be a mate?

How could you hold onto something with no tangible evidence, anyway? That nebulous, indefinable bond that had interrupted my pack’s lives, sometimes nearly costing them everything. Causing all sorts of hell in Winfyre. No mate of the Alphas had come in without calamity in her wake.

Winfyre’s well-being aside, there was also Iris to consider. I had no illusions about myself. To me, hard-ass was a compliment. I was too rough, too grim and scarred, for that ray of sunshine. I loved my family and my pack, of course, but that was before I’d closed off my heart.

Before I’d lost my dad.

Sometimes I thought I could only love blood or those who came before. Even my stepdad David, a good and hardworking guy, someone who made my mom happy and without whom Charlotte wouldn’t exist. I’d known him for years, and yet there was always a distance between us. Probably because I was already out of the house when my mom and David had started seriously dating.

If Charlotte hadn’t been such a gentle and open little soul for a little kid, I didn’t know what kind of relationship I would have had with my own little half-sister. Corinna was different—I’d stepped in and taken on the role of a dad after we’d lost ours. But she’d been a baby when we’d lost our dad.

She didn’t carry the same ghost.

Corinna and Charlotte were outgoing, much more like normal Deacons, like Fallon and Rett. Warm and comfortable to be around. I took after my mother, quiet and reserved. But even my mother could be expansive once she warmed up to people.

Stepping back, I stared up at the house and sighed. To me, a predestined mate was a nightmare. How was it fair to foist that on someone? Or to force Iris to stay with me?

I had no problem being a bachelor for the rest of my life. It sounded peaceful, with no danger of disappointment or loss. A rhythm of lonely days you could count on.

Xander seemed to think that if I spent time with Iris, I’d change my mind. And yeah, maybe deep down, some part of me wondered what it would be like. But I wasn’t about to risk everything and undermine my own self-preservation for something that might or might not be.

Maybe if I had a guarantee, a promise that she’d be okay.

Because I knew that your own pain was nothing compared to the pain of the people you loved. How their heartbreak cut up your soul in ways you couldn’t imagine.

Worse, if you hurt them...

My eyes closed, and I inhaled the freezing air, not even bothering to wish things could be different. If Iris was my mate, I was going to do the best thing I possibly could for her.

Continue keeping my distance so she didn’t get hurt.

 

When I came downstairs the next morning, I wrestled with whether I should apologize on every other step. The brief, crisp good morning I received from Iris decided it for me, and I ducked into the kitchen with a sheepish smile on my face.

Second go-around, and dinner had still been a bad idea. I’d never do that again.

Sometime later, I'd work the meeting running late into the conversation. That would suffice as an apology.

It’s tough for Alphas to have mates, I argued in my head with an imaginary Xander. We always have more on our plates than we can handle. The other three are distracted enough.

After a quick breakfast, I made my way into the living room and settled on the one armchair free of books and paper. Iris was perched on a pillow next to the coffee table, her legs tucked up against her and books piled on the floor next to her.

Iris briefly glanced up, made a note, and closed the book. Folding her hands, she didn’t quite meet my eyes as she asked, “Need something?”

“Actually, I’m here to see if you do,” I said, and Iris straightened her shoulders. “Last night, those of us lucky enough to run this territory met, and we need to speed up the work on the book.” She nodded. “Uh, my bad. It went later than I thought it would.”

“Yeah, that’s what Xander said when he stopped by with Fallon,” Iris said.

I froze, and guilt unspooled in my gut. Damn those two—they could never leave anything alone. If they’d come here after the meeting, they would’ve been here by six-thirty or so at the latest. Now I looked like I was lying. Keeping my face still, I shrugged and said, “Didn’t know they were gonna stop by, especially since I’d just seen them.”

“They were surprised you weren’t here,” Iris said and looked at the fireplace. Something in her tone implied that she hadn’t been. “They were here to see me. Explained everything.”

A sharp panic flared up my spine. “Everything what?”

Not that we actually might be mates?

Christ, no, Xander wouldn’t…

Maybe he would.

Was that why Iris was being so weird and formal? Was she that horrified? A laugh almost burst out of me. Deep down, I’d been arrogant enough to assume that she'd be upset I was against it. Well, I’d gotten what I wanted, hadn't I? She was also repulsed by the idea of being mates.

Lies. You’re not repulsed. You want it, but you know you can’t have Iris without hurting her.

“Everything about the translations.” Iris’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I blinked, staring at her. “I gave them an update, and they said you would be around more to help with the book.” There was a heavy layer of skepticism in her voice that made my jaw grit. I may not have wanted to be around, but if I gave my damn word, I was around.

Except for dinner last night.

“Right,” I muttered.

“Did you think I meant something else?” Iris asked.

“No,” I said and cracked my knuckles, avoiding her eyes.

This side of Iris was a bit spooky. She was acting like a stern librarian who’d caught me goofing off and was about to slap me upside the head. Hell, she even looked like a stern librarian with her curls pinned into a messy bun on top of her head, wearing a collared shirt and glasses. 

“When did you get glasses?” I blurted out. This look was oddly kind of a turn-on.

Iris let out a soft sigh and slid the frames up her nose. “Not long after I got here. I’m a bit farsighted, and the girls brought me to see Niles, who whipped them up for me.”

“Right. They got you clothes and stuff, too,” I said and ran my hand through my hair.

It suddenly occurred to me that not only did I know nothing about Iris, I also knew almost nothing of her life in Winfyre. Now I could see why the gossip mill had been so busy. I’d figured that they’d assume I wanted to keep this to myself, too. But they probably thought Iris was a way in.

I didn’t know how to ask about that, though. Iris gave me a searching look and flipped open her book, picking up her pen again. I waited a few moments for her to say something.

Then it slowly dawned on me that she was giving me the cold shoulder. Or the lukewarm shoulder, because it was Iris. I bit back a grin. However, as I watched lines appear around her eyes and mouth as she worked, my amusement warred with remorse.

“Iris,” I said, and she looked up. “Where should I start?”

She blinked. “You’re really staying here today?” I nodded. “Really?”

“Yes,” I said with more emphasis than I’d intended, and Iris half-rolled her eyes. “I’ll be around as much as you need me.”

Her lips pursed in a stiff smile as though she found that a good joke, and she stood in one fluid motion. I couldn’t help noticing that she was wearing black jeans that flattered her legs and that her collared shirt was slightly sheer in the light.

Looking away, gulping a little, I squeezed my knees and sank down into my icy self-control. Iris was rustling through papers and books. “Where do you want to work?” she asked.

“Uh, table by the window,” I said and stood up, looking over at it. It was in the corner of the room, far enough that I wouldn’t be distracted by Iris, and close enough that I could reasonably be helping her. Iris stood, scooping another book into her arms as she did so, and walked over, arms stuffed with material. “What’s all that?”

“A main key for Orion’s stuff, some half-done translations, two empty notebooks, and some pages that you can start working on,” Iris replied.

Walking over, I noticed the heavy pages inked over with strange drawings and symbols. “Wait, these are from Orion’s book. You tore them out?”

“They reattach,” she said. “In fact, if you leave them for more than twenty-four hours, they vanish and replace themselves back into the book. Beylore told me about it.” I didn’t know what to say to that, just raised my eyebrows as I looked everything over. “You’ve been busy.”

“Almost one fifth of the way done,” Iris replied.

“Damn,” I muttered. “Do you even need my help?”

“No,” Iris said, and I looked at her, half-shocked. For the first time all morning, Iris tossed me a soft smile, and the world righted itself. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until that moment, and I almost didn’t hear what she said next. “But things will move faster with two pairs of eyes. Isn’t this a top priority now?”

“Something like that,” I murmured. A whiff of her caramel scent hit me, and I hastily sat down, rifling through the papers. “I’ll do my best to keep up with you.”

Iris linked her hands behind her back. “Great. I’m going to make tea. You want anything?”

“No, thanks,” I said and got to work.

A few hours later, cramped and annoyed, having barely translated half a page, I stopped to make lunch. It was already late afternoon, and I went to ask Iris what she wanted, then stopped.

She had her head pillowed on her arms, curled up like a cat on pillows on the floor, with a book resting by her head. Gold hair was escaping her bun, and her lips were slightly parted. Asleep like this, with no smile or pursed-lip airs, she looked different somehow.

Vulnerable. Lonely. Sad.

Crouching down, I carefully slipped Iris’s glasses off and put them on the table. There was a throw nearby, and I grabbed it, then tucked it around her. But I didn’t get back up and walk away.

I studied her, that expression on her face eating away at me, and a protectiveness rising up.

Had I ever stopped to consider that maybe Iris was fooling me with that bubbly, flustered, and friendly act? I knew she'd lost family young like I had. So, why did I keep forgetting that, unless that was exactly what she wanted?

She murmured in her sleep, and I rocketed silently upward, vanishing into the kitchen.

I was doing it again. Letting myself get too close and concerned.

Focus on the book.

When I walked back into the living room with my lunch, Iris was sitting up, and the blanket was sliding off her shoulder. She reached up and tugged her bun free, her thick hair cascading around her face. My stomach knotted when she looked over at me and gave me a tired smile.

“Thanks,” she murmured and plucked at the blanket. “Didn’t sleep so well.”

Bones creaking from keeping my jaw closed, I nodded and went back to my table. But now, it was even harder to concentrate because that concerned me. Why wasn’t she sleeping well?

“Oh, and Kal?” Iris called after me, her voice low and sweet. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I glanced back and nodded, somehow pretending those words hadn’t absolutely gutted me.  Because the last thing I deserved from Iris was gratitude.

 

Over the next few days, Iris was chilly half the time, polite the other half, and friendly when she forgot herself. The distance between us was a splinter digging into my soul. Even her friendly moments dug the splinter in more. It made me gruffer than usual, too.

Iris’s lukewarm shoulder became noticeably colder as the days wore on. Worse, she’d already translated five pages in that time. I was still working on the first one.

Once, she offered to help, and—well, she wouldn’t be offering to help again, that was for sure.

I knew working together would be awkward. However, I’d thought after a few days, we’d find a routine. Instead, things between us unraveled to the point where Iris and I barely spoke.

Now I was the one who was having trouble sleeping.

After another bad night, I rolled out of bed earlier than I wanted to due to a terrible headache. Thunder rumbled in the distance, souring my mood even more. Standing at the window, I scowled, hoping that there wouldn’t be flash floods in Veda. We’d shored up the problem areas, but I still worried it wasn’t enough. Even the Coven’s collective power couldn’t tame Mother Nature.

Between that and trying not to worry about Iris, the pain in my head was explosive. Dammit, I had to head it off before it became a migraine. After I threw on a shirt and sweats, I clomped downstairs and began to look for medicine.

Of course, I didn’t have a damn thing.

Throwing myself onto one of the stools at the bar, I briefly considered asking one of my brothers to get me something. Or maybe send for Rogda. The pain was getting worse by the minute, an ache that was driving through the left side of my skull and into my jaw. Nausea cramped my stomach, and my vision blurred. The light in the kitchen was growing too bright.

Pre-Rift, I’d had trouble with bad migraines sometimes. It was one of the few things I knew I couldn’t grit my way through. Didn’t stop me from trying and had gotten me into trouble with superior officers a few times in the service. I’d hated being quartered, but there was no help for it except rest, ice packs, and meds.

I knew I had to get up and get an ice pack, at least. Maybe go back to bed.

Any minute now, I was going to get up and do that…

Light footsteps came down the stairs, and the sound ricocheted through my head. I couldn’t think. Great, now Iris was awake, and she was going to be a pain in the ass.

Sure enough, she came into the kitchen and stopped. “Morning, Kal," she said. I grunted. "You okay?"

“Friggin’ dandy,” I said and blinked my eyes open, wincing as lightning flashed in the distance. “Goddammit.”

Shoving the stool back, I lurched over to the fridge, pulled out an ice pack, and slapped it over my shoulder. Closing the freezer door, I got the water jug out of the fridge and nearly dropped it as my head throbbed with pain. Placing it on the counter, I rested my head on the cool metal and tried to telepathically nudge one of my brothers. But even that hurt too much.

“Are you hung over?” Iris asked, puzzled. “And here.” She took the water jug from me and poured a glass. When I pulled away, I could make out her blurry expression and rubbed my eyes, willing the pain to stop for one goddamn minute. “You don’t look so good, Kal. Should I—”

“No,” I growled and grabbed the glass. “I’m fine.”

Iris frowned and folded her arms across her stomach. “You’re pale and sweating, and you can barely open your eyes. “Does this have something to do with the poison from a few weeks ago?”

Something hit me at that moment, and I reared back, shoving it all away. "No. Dammit, Iris, you're not—" I couldn't get the words together as the pain increased. "Don't be naïve enough to think you have to care." I put a hand to my forehead. "In fact, stop caring before you get hurt. It’s annoying. Or did you forget that this was a fake relationship?”

Iris looked down, and, even in the midst of my raging headache, I knew I was being an unforgivable asshole. Worse than an asshole. Too harsh, too full of myself, and too cruel.

“It’s not a weakness,” Iris said after a moment, and I heard her voice shake. “Strength isn’t always silence. Sometimes it’s a scream.” A shudder went over her. “I need to go.”

"Wait, Iris," I said and winced, a line of fire spearing through my brain. When I opened my eyes again, she was in the front hall. "Iris, it's going to storm…"

You don’t like storms—they bring up bad memories, I wanted to say, but the words got stuck in my throat. I sensed that before you even told me, and I carried you…

And even in her pain, she’d been kind to me about my loss.

“I hope you feel better,” she said as she pulled on a coat and hitched up a bag on her arm.

“So damn stupid,” I muttered under my breath, and Iris’s back went rigid. “Wait, I didn’t—”

The door slammed shut, and I groaned, my head throbbing.

“I didn’t mean you,” I muttered. “I was talking about me.”