Chapter Seven

Iris

 

I know.

Those two words, deliberate and deep, curving up my spine and vibrating from the hard chest I was pressed against. My eyes lifted to Kal’s hard jaw, then to his lips. A small smirk flitted over his face, and our gazes briefly met, shaking loose a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Why had I been holding my breath? And, more importantly, was this really happening?

The last few days, Kal had been so remote and impassive, I'd been sure he was annoyed that I had to tag along on his way home. While there'd been a knot of apprehension and disappointment growing in my chest, I’d focused on making the best of it. I had a capable shifter bringing me to Winfyre and a task ahead that would help the territories. I’d be able to help people in a significant way. What did it matter if Kal wanted to be my friend or not?

But right now, I knew it did matter.

It mattered so much that there was an ache in my neck from holding up my head so I wouldn’t nestle against him. I had to resist. If I gave in, if I let myself fall against a strong, hard man, especially one who blew as icy-cold and red-hot as Kal Deacon…

No, I couldn’t. That was madness. That was a recipe for heartbreak.

That wasn’t me. Underneath my smile was steel honed for over a decade. Since I was fifteen, I’d been more or less on my own. I knew how to survive.

Abutting that—that sharp contrast in my personality that drove me insane, never mind everyone else, I’m sure—was the soft-hearted, whimsical wish to please everyone. Including Kal.

Maybe especially Kal. It was why I hadn’t complained about the quiet of the trail, feeling it unfair. And why, as improbable and insane as it sounded, I didn’t want to risk hurting Kal’s feelings by insisting he put me down.

Helps that you don’t want him to put you down, either.

Thunder shook the sky around us, and I tensed up, sucking in a hard breath. Kal’s grip became more secure. So much for secretly thinking he was a callous, self-absorbed guy.

I’d underestimated how sharp he was. The moment he’d sensed me tensing up, I’d been in his arms. Now I was berating myself for feeling ignored when he was trying to get me and some dangerous Excris contraband safely into Winfyre.

Storms like this always resurrected the ghosts of my mother and brother. The hole in my heart and the steel walls I’d erected around it. Usually, during bad storms like this, I hunkered down alone and let myself sob, releasing the tension from the wound that would never let me go.

I’d never been with anyone, or at least not anyone like Kal, not a protector holding me like this. Suddenly, I didn’t care if Kal liked me or not. He was a grown man, and he’d made the choice to carry me in here. I could indulge in his strong, steady comfort for a moment. Tightness clawed at my throat, and I closed my eyes, finally letting my head fall against Kal’s chest.

I’d grown up in a topsy-turvy, tiny family. A mother who tried her best but couldn’t quite escape the demons of her past. And a brother who took the brunt of that.

Mom had run away from home, young. She’d gone chasing dreams and wound up pregnant. Her first baby was my older half-brother, Leon. By all accounts, Leon’s dad had been a good guy—not surprising, knowing my brother. Yet she’d never told that man about Leon.

Young and scared, she’d wound up with an older man, a jackass who took off on her not long after I was born. A man I’d never met and had never thought much about. Not with Leon looking out for me. Leon had been “born with an old man’s soul,” my mother liked to joke. He’d protected me as we bounced around from trailer park to apartment to commune to the streets.

Leon had tried to protect my mother, too. He’d loved her with a loyalty that lay at the core of his very being. It made me wonder if Leon’s dad had been some kind of superhero, and our mother hadn’t wanted to drag him down. If she’d loved him so much, she would have had no choice but to walk away.

We never found out those answers because my mother had contracted a terrible illness she couldn’t shake and we couldn’t afford. Not that she’d let us take her to the doctor.

Not until it was too late.

Leon had been devastated and grown even more protective of me. Juggling school part-time and working all sorts of crappy jobs, he’d supported us the best he could. All of a sudden, though, three years after my mother’s death, when he was nineteen and I was fifteen, the government got involved. There was a blur of worried weeks, and suddenly I was in foster care. A nice paycheck for a nice but indifferent couple.

However, I pretended to like it for Leon’s sake. Now he was free and could volunteer with one of those overseas groups he was crazy about. The kind that went into areas crippled by poverty, bringing medicine and building houses. He’d always been intense about helping others.

Leon had promised he’d be gone for a few months, back in time for my sixteenth birthday, and I’d get more postcards than I could handle.

As that summer waned, I’d been happy for him and content with my foster parents. But then hurricane season had swept through, and the news went into a feeding frenzy about a tragic group of US college student volunteers who were killed in a flash flood. They’d been there building houses and doing medical work. Only three had survived.

One, thanks to Leon.

My eyes squeezed shut more tightly, and for a moment, I let myself fall, just a little bit.

But as soon as I did, Kal stopped, and a soft sigh brushed my forehead. “You fall asleep?”

“No,” I said and straightened as he put me down. Instantly, the cold hit me, as though Kal had been keeping it at bay, and a tight bundle of nerves hit my stomach. I suddenly felt like a drowned, wilted flower and pushed back my damp curls. “What do you need me to do?”

“Stay there while I build a fire,” he said.

I squinted, watching his big form move away. I shivered, waiting and wishing I could change. He came back with a pile of wood in his arms and squatted down by the wall, tossing wood in, and then fire flashed between his fingertips. Warmth rolled over me as I moved closer, realizing there was a big, old-fashioned fireplace in the wall.

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes,” Kal replied and straightened. “I’m gonna go over there and change. I suggest you do the same.” There was a military crispness to his voice, but the firelight on his face gave him a softer, younger look. As though he were worried. “Can’t get sick on me.”

The phrasing of those words made my heart flutter as he walked away again. For a moment, I stared, watching the tantalizing play of shadows on those big muscles. Then I saw the sweep of his arms as he took off his shirt, and a squeak escaped me.

Kal half-glanced over his shoulder, and I swore I heard a soft chuckle, so I hastened to my own bag and dug out some dry clothes. The whole time, my neck and ears were burning, a sensation I was altogether unfamiliar with, and I had the strangest sense Kal was still laughing at me.

Once I was out of my sodden clothes and had hung them up on a semi-clean chair, Kal returned and tossed his clothes over another chair. I watched as he easily folded up his tall form and dug into a bag of food. Uncertain of what to do, I fumbled with my bag and then walked over, hesitating a little as I sat next to him.

Kal glanced over, the light warming the white edges of his blond hair to gold and making his storm-gray eyes an uncertain, lovely color. I looked away, and suddenly a heavy jacket went around my shoulders.

“You don’t have—”

“You’re shivering.”

It’s more from nerves than the cold, I thought and wiggled my toes at the fire. “Thanks.”

“You’re very polite.”

I didn’t turn my head more than an inch, only swept my eyes to the side to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Kal was sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, his head tipped to the side and arms stretched out behind him to prop him up.

“Oh,” I said after a long moment during which my brain screamed at my mouth to stop wagging open like an idiot. “Yeah. Thanks. My mom was always big on that.”

“Was?” The question slipped out before Kal even seemed to realize it had, and he hunched forward, head dropping down. “Uh, shouldn’t pry. My bad.”

“She passed when I was twelve,” I said carefully. Like most kids who’d lost a parent young, you could always tell. This time, I couldn’t help myself when I looked at him. Kal’s jaw was tight, and my stomach twisted with a mixture of empathy and grief. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Kal relaxed back a little, studying me. “Lost my dad when I was young.”

I nodded, throat too tight to say anything and not sure he’d take kindly to unwanted physical contact. Not when he was holding himself so carefully and with a constraint honed by years of practice.

“Never gets easier, does it?”

This time I had to dig my nails into my palms to stop from reaching for him.

“No,” I said in a soft voice.

There were a few moments of quiet, where I had the strangest sense of blending into Kal. Like we’d been friends a long time, then lost track, and now found ourselves together again. With the strangeness of years between us and the old bonds tugging underneath.

It was such a disorienting and strong feeling, I had to close my eyes and focus on something else to keep myself from doing something impulsive. The wind was muttering above the roof, the fire crackling, and Kal’s rhythmic breath brushing by my ear.

“You should stay in Winfyre.”

“Huh?” I asked, and my eyes flew open, finding his gaze on mine. There was a serious set to his jaw and a slight furrow to his brow. “What-what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said." There was no intonation to those words I could catch, so I gaped at him. Big shoulders rolled back, and tendons popped along his neck as he sucked in a breath and then let out an enormous sigh. “Geez, Iris, don’t look at me like that.”

I was so thrown, all I could do was sit there and try to come up with something to say.

“You’re on your own, right?” Kal continued, and I nodded. A slow, half-embarrassed nod. “Yeah, I know a frog when I see one.”

“Oh, right,” I muttered. A frog was a Riftborn who bounced from territory to territory.

“Winfyre is home for anyone and everyone,” Kal said simply and rolled his shoulders. “I know you’ll like it. So why not? We’ll even send someone to go get all your stuff. So, stay.”

I hugged my knees, thinking of the small, cramped apartment I had in the Greyclaw territory. The handful of things I’d managed to keep, and some clothes. It was paltry.

Most of the time, I hated being there.

So, why wasn’t I jumping at the Alpha’s offer? Did I think it was too good to be true?

More than that, though, I felt like a book Kal had read too easily, and color flooded my cheeks. Did this mean he knew I was nursing a bit of a tiny crush on him, too?

Honestly, how could I say no to that proposition? It was so tempting. Too tempting.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally got out.

“What?” I looked at Kal, and he was frowning. “What’s to think about?” A strange expression moved over his face. “Is there someone back in the Greyclaw?”

I tried not to overthink how he’d said someone as I carefully answered, “No, but Winfyre Ridge isn’t somewhere you pick up and move to without serious consideration.” I fiddled with the jacket zipper. Ugh, and what if he had someone? What if I saw Kal arm in arm with some tall, leggy brunette? My stomach cramped with nausea. I’d hate that. “Thanks, though.”

“Hmph,” Kal grumbled and rubbed his hair. “We’ll see.”

I also really didn’t want a pity invite to live in Winfyre Ridge. I wanted to earn my place.

“There’s a place for a Riftborn like you,” Kal said, as though hearing my thoughts, and I jumped. “That’s all I’m going to say.” A shiver ran over me, and he straightened. “You still cold?”

“Uh, yes?” I said.

“I don’t really get cold,” he said and stood up, getting his bag. I watched as he tossed a sleeping mat and bag at me, smelling of him. “Yours got a bit damp.”

“What are you…?” I trailed off as Kal shifted.

The ice bear padded around me and settled down behind, curving his body around mine. A snort escaped his nose, and he bobbed his head at me. I stared for a second, a crazy idea chasing back and forth in my brain. But not until he growled did I believe it.

“Um, if you insist,” I said and spread out the mat with shaking fingers.

Then I unzipped the bag, fluffing it over me. With a strange jolt to my brain, I lay back on the miles of warm white fur behind me, and a small, satisfied sound escaped me. Kal’s fur looked bristly, but it was soft, unbelievably soft, and I nestled into his side, smiling to myself.