Chapter Nineteen

Iris

 

Versk blanched, all but throwing my hand down as he backed away. “Evening, Deacon.” He attempted a casual air, but I could hear the nervous note in his voice. "Nice of you to come and get your mate for once."

A huge shadow moved by me, and the big, furious ice bear put himself between me and Versk. “Come and get her? Please, Iris is perfectly capable of handling assholes like you,” Kal snarled softly. “Also, in Winfyre, we typically don’t worry about our citizens being accosted.” He moved closer, and Versk backed up. “Is this what it’s come to? Threatening my mate so the Greyclaw can have a taste of glory?” Versk muttered something. “Do you know the price we paid for peace?”

“I’m here to ensure Iris—”

“And you have overstayed your welcome,” Kal interrupted in a deadly voice. “Stay away from my mate, or I will break every goddamn bone in your body. In fact, if I catch you even looking at her, I’ll be happy to start by dislocating your jaw.” His breathing was heavy, and I stepped forward now, concerned Kal was about to make good on that. “I know.” He glanced back at me and winked. Confusion had me gripping him harder. “I know you asked me to stay out of it, honey.” I could only imagine the glare he was fixing on Versk. “But this bastard went too far.”

“You-you…” Versk trailed off and half-glanced at me.

Kal’s hand shot out and grabbed Versk’s jacket in the front. “You were just leaving. Get your ass gone before I change my mind.” He shoved him away one-handed. “And tell Norson that respect is earned. We won’t forget this.”

Versk stood there for a moment, stunned, and then swung around, vanishing into the night.

I watched Kal’s big shoulders rise and fall, his head cocked, and the rain falling all around us. My wrist was aching, and I was soaked to the bone, my hair plastered to my scalp. Kal was equally soaked. Suddenly, his body relaxed, and he lifted a big hand, running it through his hair. A moment later, I let out a small sneeze, and he turned around.

“Bless you,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said automatically. “Where did—how did…?”

“I should’ve gotten here sooner. That bastard…” Kal made an angry noise. “I came to look for you—” He broke off, and I nodded, shivering and uncertain. His eyes had a silver gleam in the dark, and they swept over me. “Wait, what the hell are you doing out here without a warmer jacket? Give me that.”

Kal took the umbrella and popped it open, holding it over me. “It’s fine,” I lied through chattering teeth, and he snorted. “What about you?”

“I like the cold,” Kal said, but he stepped closer and held it over both of us. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, rotating my wrist, and Kal reached out. Warm, callused fingertips gently turned my wrist over. Kal sucked in an angry breath, and I looked down. A bruise was forming from Versk’s grip. “He’s a lackey, Kal, not worth it. Let’s go.”

“This is my fault,” Kal said. “Let’s get home so I can take care of this.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I said and pulled away from him. “Like you said, I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, you can,” Kal said in a low voice. “I was speaking from experience.” He tugged on my arm, and we began to walk. “Thank you for sending Rogda. Although she may have yelled at me a bit and made my headache worse.”

Good, said a vindictive voice that surprised me. I thought I sensed Kal looking over at me, waiting for a response, and I shrugged as we began to climb. Part of me was quaking, waiting for him to pull away and snarl at me for ingratitude. Another part of me was glad I was holding my ground.

The wind rose, and the trees creaked in its invisible grip. Leaves swirled down, and clouds raced so fast overhead, they tore themselves apart, and stars shone through. I was as strange to myself as this night. My very thoughts and actions unfamiliar, as though I’d slipped on a new skin.

Kal sighed, and I braced myself. “I might have been in a lot of pain, but that’s no excuse for what I said, Iris.” His rough voice was barely audible over the rain. “I apologize.”

For a moment, I was staggered, and only rote instinct kept me walking upright. “Okay,” I heard myself say. But there was a crackle of anger under that, and a tightness to my throat. “Okay.”

“You should be mad at me,” Kal muttered.

I yanked away from him. “Oh, thanks for giving me your permission.” My shoulders were flung back, and I was walking faster, breathing harder. “I am mad. No, I’m furious with you.”

“Do you want to yell at me here or back at the house?” Kal asked, almost sounding ironic.

I stopped so quickly, he almost walked into me. “You know what? I think I’ll find somewhere else—”

“No,” Kal said, and he gripped my forearm. “Don’t. Please, not after weeks of holding it together for the two of us. Let me—”

“Why shouldn’t I?” I interrupted. The rain stung my face in sharp, cold bursts. I was shaking, but I stared up at his shadowed face. “If you had listened—”

“I know,” Kal said, and the timbre of his voice plunged to the base of my spine. “Believe me, I’ve known for days—weeks—that you were right, Iris. We should have had a plan, discussed this…”

Some of the anger was leaching out of my soul, replaced by a bewildered sense of satisfaction. “Damn right,” I said with vehemence, and I thought I saw Kal’s lips twitch. “So, why…?”

Kal didn't respond right away. Instead, his hand slid up to the crook of my elbow, and his thumb brushed inside my shirt, over the warm, dry skin there. As though seeking a pulse.

“Because,” he said, and his gaze slipped down. Now he took my bandaged hand, and I thought I saw his throat work. “Having a mate makes an Alpha vulnerable.”

“Fake mate,” I said in a dry, wispy voice as a tremble ran up my body.

There was some note buried in his voice that seized my heart and wrung it free of all the petty grievances I had against Kal. If I was being honest, I didn’t think one gruff apology fixed things, and I was still pretty annoyed, but my shoulders had lost their tautness. Standing in front of me was the conflicted, caring soul Kal buried so deeply. The one who’d carried me in the storm, who’d heard the familiar echo of a child’s loss, and who’d let me sleep in his warm fur. The one who brought flowers and tried to make dinner plans, who didn’t know how to push people away or let them in.

“Does it matter?” Kal asked so softly, I almost couldn’t be sure I didn’t hear it.

Something caught in my throat, and I wanted to reach out. I’d thought he was angry.

I hadn’t considered he might be in pain.

“I know you don’t like storms,” Kal said in a more conversational tone, and he gently let go of my injured hand. It now closed over the one I’d fisted in his shirt without realizing it. “Knew I really pissed you off when you left this morning. Then I got worried when you didn’t come back. Should’ve known Versk would pounce, the bastard.”

“You were worried?” I asked, and his hand tightened. I wondered if he knew.

“Of course,” Kal said, sounding surly about it. I almost smiled. “Don’t give me that look. It was weird without you in the house, too.”

“We should probably get out of the rain,” I said lightly.

“You’re the one who wanted to have a damn discourse out here,” Kal grumbled and then swung me around, his arm across my shoulders and hand still holding mine. I wasn’t quite sure how he did it, but I relished his hard warmth. If he was feeling guilty, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to take a snippet of advantage, would it?

“I am,” I acknowledged. “And I’m going to forget you said I was right. We need to figure this out. For Winfyre.”

“And us,” Kal said, and then his body tensed. “Y’know, so shit like this doesn’t happen again.”

I hid another smile. Badly. Hard to do so when things were finally better between us. “Sure.”

“I swear to the spirits, Iris Lisay, you better stop giving me that damn look.”