Ice Bear's Bid (Northbane Shifters Book 4)

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Ice Bear's Bid (Northbane Shifters Book 4) Page 16

by Isabella Hunt


  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.”

  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 on
ce."

  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.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kal

  When we got back to the house, I was more relaxed than I had been in a long time. Which was s
trange, given the fact that Iris had snapped at me and still didn’t seem to have completely forgiven me. Inside, I stole glance after glance at her. Heavy wet curls dripping down, flushed cheeks, and sparkling brown eyes. That small, amused smile hovering around her lips interchanging with the crease between her eyebrows.

  “Take the first shower,” I said and took her dripping bag from her. “Let all this dry.”

  “Okay,” she said and peeled off her jacket.

  Quickly I averted my eyes, not having failed to notice how her shirt was sticking to her and revealing the curves of her body. Especially of her breasts and hips. My skin was growing hot and itchy, the predator at my core clawing and roaring, trying to shake off the layers of ice above.

  Even after a long and trying day, Iris was radiant.

  “I’ll be quick,” Iris said.

  “No, take your time,” I said. “I’m going to dry off, change, and eat. No shower needed.”

  “Thanks,” Iris said and began to make her way upstairs, then stopped. “You’re not coming?”

  “I am.” The words sounded hoarse, and I shook myself, fibbing, “Trying to get this jacket off.”

  “Oh, let me help,” Iris said and hopped back down, coming over. Her deft fingers plucked at the material and helped me shrug it off. “Not so bad. We’re gonna need a lot of towels down here.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I said and plucked at the material sticking to me. It was a thin shirt, and I was sure you could practically see my scars through it. “Get going.”

  Iris didn’t say anything. I’d been trying not to look at her, but I did now. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed, and her expression dazed. What the hell was wrong with her? A memory flashed into my mind. The first time we’d met, she wouldn’t stop staring. What a goofy woman.

  “What the hell are you staring at?” I barked, discomfited and amused at the same time.

 

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