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.”
Chapter Seventeen
Iris
Marching down to Cobalt, the wind whipping through the trees and thunder growling across the bay, I held my head high. A pressure was coming and going in my throat, burning my eyes one minute and my gut the next. I could have slapped Kal right across his pale, sweaty face. I didn’t care how sick he was. How dare he speak to me like that?
For days, days, I’d tried to abide by his stupid lead. Keeping conversation to a bare minimum—to the barest essentials. Avoiding him when I could. Making myself a damn mouse.
My anger echoed louder than the thunder. The storm wasn’t even rattling me, I was so furious.
And I’d done all that for what? He insisted on being a grumpy, impossible, and unfriendly inhuman piece of ice. I could hardly believe he was the man who’d talked about losing his dad young or asked me about my mom or let me sleep on him as an ice bear.
Or that I’d let myself think for a moment those stupid flowers meant something.
Skidding on a wet patch of earth, I toppled forward, catching myself hard on my hands. Dirt coated my palms and knees as I got back up. Tears stung my eyes, and I swallowed a hiccup.
While I understood Kal wasn’t happy about being my fake mate, I’d thought he’d maybe come around and be my friend again. Too many times, I’d wake up and wonder about that last, stormy night. When he’d told me to stay in Winfyre, and there’d been a moment of connection.
More and more, it seemed like a sweet, childish dream. A bitter smile twisted my mouth. Because that’s exactly what it was.
How many stories had I heard about the big bad ice bear of the Northbane? The cold-hearted, gruff force at Xander Bane’s side, doing all the dirty work? The hard-assed soldier?
Kal had said what he needed to say to get me to Winfyre and protect his own. I’d been stupid enough to think for a minute that that included me. And it shouldn’t hurt, but it did.
I caught a sob in my throat and swallowed it. All my life, I’d been on my own and on the outside. The most important thing was rec
alling that strength and putting on a smile.
Whatever else Winfyre was or wasn’t, I’d promised to help them. There were good people here, and the peace of the Northern Wilds depended on them. I couldn’t let Kal distract me now, when I was almost a third of the way through the book.
It began to rain, and I hurried into Cobalt, shaking in my thin coat. The cuts on my hands throbbed as I glanced around for a place to wash up. I couldn’t go to the Archives like this.
Kal’s pained grimace as he sat hunched at the bar flashed into my mind, followed by the sag in his shoulders as he leaned his forehead against the fridge. That big idiot could lie all he wanted and try to tough his way through a migraine, but I knew he had to be in hell right now. Part of me almost wanted to let him suffer, but my mother had used to suffer from those. They could be debilitating.
With a sigh, I made my way to the infirmary as the rain really began to come down. Inside, I drew back my hood and sighed. A peaceful, beautiful building with wide windows and light walls, filled with the light scents of spices and herbs, it relaxed me instantly.
Rogda came bustling around the corner and tilted her head at me as I tried to smile. But my face felt odd, and my throat worked as she came forward.
“Iris Lisay, you are not who I expected to see this morning,” she said, and her one eye searched my face. “Are you all right? You look…”
I hastily nodded and held up my hands. “Took a bit of a tumble. Could I wash up?”
Exclaiming in Russian, she examined my hands and shook her head. “Let me help—come, come. Niles!” Her big blond son appeared around the corner. “Put on some tea.”
“Cassidy already did,” he said, and the pixie-like brunette appeared at his elbow. I’d only seen her a handful of times since she’d healed me in the woods all those weeks ago. Now the memory was like a punch to the chest. “Are you all right, Iris?”
“She took a bad fall,” Rogda explained and pulled me into a big kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind, dear—I’m just in the middle of making breakfast, remedies, and the like. Since you’re not contagious, I thought we could treat you in here.”
“That’s fine,” I said and followed her to the big sink. “And it wasn’t a bad fall.”
“Your pants are filthy,” Cassidy said. “Would you like me to get you another pair? Or a skirt? I think I have a skirt that would fit you.”
“Oh, it’s not necessary. I’ll just wipe it off,” I protested as warm water ran over my hands. Rogda’s capable fingers carefully cleaned off the dirt and soaped them up. “Honestly, I actually didn’t even come here for me.” I went to speak and realized that saying his name was like driving a hot stake into my stomach. “Would you believe it, but the ice bear is pretty sick. Migraine, I think.”
“Oh no,” Rogda said and led me to the table. “Cass, could you—” She smiled as the girl handed her a big jar. “Thank you. Would you believe when Cassidy got to Winfyre, she’d barely talk to a soul? Tried to run away, too.”
“Thanks, Mama Ro,” Cassidy said. “So, should I head up the hill?”
Rogda didn’t answer. She dabbed at my hands with a warm, clean cloth and absorbed the blood. Then she pulled out the salve and spread something cool across the cuts. It smelled wonderful but was extremely sticky. I was about to ask about it when she pulled out a bandage and wrapped my palms. The bandages were thin and flexible, allowing me to flex my fingers and move my hands without too much of an inconvenience.
“Ma,” Niles said, and Rogda shook herself. “You want Cass to go?”
“Sorry, Cass,” her mother-in-law said. “My mind was elsewhere. No, I’ll go. You two have too much to do around here, and I need to have a chat with Kallen.”
Though nothing in her words was indicative of a dismissal, Cassidy and Niles both said polite good-byes, got up, and left. Rogda had me sit down, getting up herself to make tea. Then she brought over a plate of warm oatmeal cookies, berries, and hard-boiled eggs.
When I gave her a puzzled look, Rogda waved me off, saying, “I know you didn’t have breakfast. Had a fight with Kal, instead.” I sucked in a breath and tried to smile, tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t move. “Stubborn, stubborn fool. All five of them. Hard to say who is worse—sometimes it depends on the day.” A tremble went through my hands as I tried to sip my tea and shrink into the bench. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “I know, I’m a prying old woman.”
“You’re not old,” I murmured. “And it’s fine.”
“You are a sweet girl with the biggest heart,” Rogda said, and I looked up at her. “And yet I see you trying to close it off. Why?” When I gaped at her, she continued, “What? I’m a holistic kind of healer.”
“I’m not trying—no, I mean, I’m trying to do my job and not bother Kal,” I said, and my tongue tripped over his name. “Nothing I do seems to work.”
“Nothing?” Rogda asked.
“No,” I said, and it all poured out. “I’ve been trying to keep my distance, be professional and aloof, do exactly what he wants. And I don't know why. I'm not usually like that. I’m not weak or think I have to follow someone else’s lead, but he’s an Alpha of the Northbane, and he saved my life.
But does that give him the right to be such an unforgivable, surly ass all of the time? I mean, what did I do that was so wrong? I’m neat, I’m quiet, I’m nice—” I broke off as Rogda smiled at me and handed me a tissue. “Dammit.” I dabbed at my face. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Rogda said and patted my arm. “You needed to let that out. I could see it all over your face. You were about to implode. I’ve never seen you without a smile.” She heaved a sigh. “And I understand. Humoring Kal is a herculean task. It’s why I never do it.”
I shot a look at her. “What?”
“Kal and his brothers, they also saved my life and my sons’ lives. Brought us here, built this place, and keep us safe. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to kowtow to Xander’s secrets, Luke’s worries, Tristan’s recklessness, Rett’s workaholic tendencies, or Kal’s strictness.” Rogda laughed as I made a face. “I know—you’re thinking that I can do that, because of who I am. But the truth is, dear, Northbane’s Alphas are aware of the position they hold and how easily they can wield its influence over others. They’re careful in that, for the most part.” She sighed and looked at the rain lashing the window. “Kal, though…he thinks the responsibilities of Winfyre demand a sacrifice and stamina that even angels on high would balk at. And he guards his heart almost as well as this territory.”
“Exactly, so I shouldn’t be complaining,” I said.
“No,” Rogda said. “You should. He is so afraid of being fallible, of making mistakes, that I think he’d rather let this place swallow him whole than make one. But that isn’t the way life works. Especially post-Rift. It’s messy and complicated and even more connected than it was before, no?”
“You think he’s in some kind of trouble?” I asked.
“Oh, he already is,” Rogda said with a tinkly laugh. “What we’re afraid of, those who love him and know him, under all that ice—is that he’ll wake up one day, and things will have passed him by. Moments, memories, and people.” Her eye took me in. “So, my advice is to be yourself. Be messy and human, and don’t shrink down to accommodate him. Take up as much room as you can.”
“But I’m a guest,” I said faintly.
“Oh, my dear Iris,” Rogda said. “You have never, ever, been a guest.”
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.
Ice Bear's Bid (Northbane Shifters Book 4) Page 15