Chapter Eighteen

Iris

 

By the time I left Rogda’s, it was raining in earnest and almost time for lunch. Cassidy lent me an umbrella, as well as a swishy skirt that hit right below the knee. She also lent me knee high socks as the temperature was far too cold for bare legs.

Wandering through Cobalt, I wondered where I should have lunch. Then I stopped, watching a couple ahead of me. They were sharing an umbrella, wrapped around each other, and their heads were bent together. Their steps slowed, and, as they faced each other, I recognized them.

Tristan and Sierra, his warm, tawny head bending closer to her dark one. The two of them were in earnest conversation, then he said something, and Sierra laughed. She lifted a hand to Tristan’s face. He exuded a sigh and pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing. The look on Sierra’s face was soft and happy, almost awed. She tilted the umbrella down as she pulled him in for a kiss, hiding the two of them.

That jolted me, and I lowered my umbrella, hoping they wouldn’t catch me snooping. A knot was forming in my gut, a knot I didn’t like and didn’t want to acknowledge. Yet at the same time, a treacherous thought slipped through my mind.

Kal would never share an umbrella like that.

I stumbled, and a hand caught my elbow, steadying me. “Iris?”

It was Tristan, blinking down at me and smiling, while Sierra peered around him, holding the umbrella up high to shelter both of them.

“You all right?” Tristan asked again, and I could see how he could’ve undermined even Sierra’s effortless cool. There was an earnestness to him you couldn’t help but like, and the way his eyes lit up made you want to hear the joke. “Where are you going in such a hurry? Home?”

The word made my throat tighten, and I shook my head, smiling. “Lunch, maybe.”

“So are we,” Sierra said and stepped forward, handing her umbrella to Tristan and ducking under with me. “Come and eat with us. Feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Um, well…” I said as Tristan laughed.

“Better say yes,” he said gravely. “You can’t argue with her. And yeah, come on, our treat.”

My heart lightened as Sierra squeezed my arm and smiled. “Okay. Thank you.”

They took me to a restaurant that was cozy and not too crowded, filled with the delicious smells of fresh bread and savory stew. Tristan laughingly told us about how Winfyre had survived on a lot of fried onions for a while, and almost zero booze. Then Sierra regaled us with some of the weird cuisines she'd eaten out in the Tiselk. They traded off stories happily, making me laugh. After, there were polite questions about my life.

But I only gave them the barest sketches. I didn’t need them feeling more pity for me. It was bad enough I probably looked like a sad sack wandering around Cobalt on my own. And there was no way Tristan didn’t know how Kal felt about me.

Maybe that’s why they’re being so nice.

Part of me wanted to smack myself for being such a downer and reveling in this little pity party. But another part of me was worried it was true. Why else would they have invited me out on their one-on-one lunch date?

Towards the end of the lunch, when we were finishing up, I let out a little sigh as Tristan teasingly asked Sierra if she wanted to share a raspberry tart. Sierra glanced at me, and I gave her a wide smile that I hoped wasn’t as painful as it felt.

“You two are just such a nice couple,” I said quickly. “Exactly as I imagined mates would act. And I’ve heard your story—it was so romantic.”

Sierra laughed, color brightening her cheeks, and twisted a piece of her wavy hair escaping from its low bun. "Oh, is that right? I mean, I'm sure the details were a bit exaggerated."

“Ha, especially when it came to dealing with this one’s penchant for stealing,” Tristan said.

“Stealing?” I asked as Sierra shot him a look.

“I may have drugged and robbed Tristan once or twice,” Sierra said carefully. My eyes went huge, and I gaped at her. That wasn’t something I’d heard. Her flush deepened as Tristan began to laugh, and I tried to school my face. “See, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“People want to think it’s all smooth sailing to romance when you have a mate,” Tristan said.

“It’s not,” Sierra said and arched a brow at her mate. “In fact, wasn’t it Xander who told me, not you?” It was Tristan’s turn to make a face while Sierra smirked. “Don’t act like you were so perfect, Tricks.”

“Never said I was, Sphinx,” Tristan retorted, though his gaze was soft and serious as he looked at Sierra. “Maybe we should tell Iris the real story. Probably more romantic than the rumors.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” I said hastily. I was already burning with envy as it was.

“Maybe not today,” Sierra said and patted her mate’s hands. “But I do think you should know this.” She turned to me. “It wasn’t perfect. It was messy and confusing and took a lot of courage.” Sierra pulled in a long breath. “Even when I knew I was in love with him, even after Tristan…” Her eyes slid to him, and he gave her a small, half-knowing, half-reassuring smile. “He’d saved my life more than once, forgiven me for stealing from him, sacrificed so much for my happiness and family, told me how he felt, and I…”

“Sierra,” Tristan said.

“He was braver than me,” Sierra said and gave me a searching look. “For some people, actually for everyone, it’s terrifying to fall in love. To open your heart. It took time for me.” As Tristan draped an arm across the back of her chair, watching Sierra who was looking at me, her big eyes wide and earnest, as though trying to convey something, I almost wanted to shake my head. I didn’t know what she was driving at. “I’m lucky I had a mate who was so patient.”

“I bet you were more than worth the wait,” I said and smiled at her.

“Iris,” Sierra started to say, and she glanced at Tristan, who drew back, giving a quick shake of his head. “Just try to—”

“Coffee!” trilled the woman carrying over a big tray and setting it down. “Have at it.”

After we’d each poured a mug, Sierra was quiet, and Tristan was looking at her, one hand on her knee. If I didn’t know any better, I would say they were having a silent conversation or something. Then a shiver went through me.

Wait, could some mates talk mind to mind?

Sierra never got back to what she’d wanted to tell me to try, and I soon made a hurried excuse that I had to get to the Archives. It wasn’t a complete fib, and, as I emerged back into the rain, thunder rumbled in the distance again.

Turning, I looked out and saw that there was another storm far out at sea.

It threw me into a melancholy mood as I dragged my way to the Archives. I hadn't taken a break from translating in nearly two and a half weeks. While I had made a lot of progress, none of what Orion had written so far was of much interest. It was mostly observations about Shifters, Riftborn, and Excris. With some horrible accounts of what had happened in the Stasis Bureau centers.

Nothing about corrupted shifters or Excris who dwelled beyond the Rift.

Walking into the Archives, I deposited my umbrella by the front door, nodded at the Archivists, and headed upstairs. It was about two in the afternoon. Maybe I’d work for a few hours and then head home early. Bed sounded nice right now.

After finding a particularly thorny passage to decode, though, the hours slipped by. It wasn’t until my neck began to cramp up that I took a break. And even then, it wasn’t long. Something about this page seemed more promising—

"It's closing." I jumped out of my seat, yelping, and Kyla the Archivist hopped back. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Massaging my chest, I laughed weakly. “No, I was lost to the world.” I looked outside at the drizzly, dark night. “And I lost track of time. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course,” Kyla said and bobbed her head. “Need any help?”

I was cleaning up the materials as quickly as I could off the table. “Oh no, no. I’m fine.”

“No rush,” Kyla said cheerfully. “I know you’re doing important work.”

“Something like that,” I sighed and finished packing my bag. Tucking a few books against me, I followed Kyla downstairs, chatting about the weather and whatnot. Then, after a “Night!” at the door, I was opening Rogda’s umbrella and braving the wet night.

It was murky and dark, the road back to Kal’s filled with puddles. After a while, I stopped trying to avoid them and accepted the fact that my boots, socks, and jacket were going to be soaked. The wind was blowing wildly and then would stop, rendering the umbrella almost useless.

As I approached the steep, dark path back to Kal’s, I fumbled for my lantern and then jumped when a shadow appeared out of nowhere. At the same moment, the umbrella flipped inside out and slipped from my flailing hands.

“Allow me,” said a familiar voice, and the shadow became a tall, annoying shifter.

“Versk,” I sighed. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Than help out pretty little Riftborns adrift in Winfyre?” he asked. “No.”

“I appreciate it,” I said as he handed me back the umbrella and grinned at me. “But please leave me alone.”

“Seems like you’re always alone,” Versk said as I went to push by him, and I stopped, my stomach churning. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think maybe Kal lacked the wherewithal to appreciate what a lovely mate he has.”

Such a casual, careless kind of cruelty. It made my throat close up. I couldn’t even find the words as I stared up at his shadowed face.

You don’t know anything! I wanted to scream. Stop trying to trip me up to do Winfyre wrong!

“I feel bad for you,” Versk continued. “Having such an indifferent mate. Aren’t they supposed to be attuned to you?” He stepped closer, and I hugged my books to my chest, leaning back. “Isn’t the passion supposed to be undeniable—even for an ice bear?”

“Stop it,” I snapped and held out the umbrella, shaking my wet curls out of my face. “You-you don’t know anything. You don’t know me, and you don’t know Kal. He is a good man.”

“Please.” Versk grabbed my wrist, and I let out a cry of pain. “It would be so easy—”

“Let her go.” Relief poured through me at the bone-biting growl. “Now.”