Ice Bear's Bid (Northbane Shifters Book 4)

by Isabella Hunt

  To my surprise, Iris reached out and poked my pec. “What do you do to get muscles like this?” I looked down at her hand, then at her, and Iris snatched her hand back, going a shade of red I had never seen on another human, only tomatoes. “I’m so sorry.”

  She was admiring me. A laugh escaped, and I put a hand to my face as a burning, but pleasant, tingle worked its way up from my chest into my throat. “Iris. Go take a shower.”

  “Right,” she said and scampered away.

  I waited a minute, my hand falling and rubbing my chest. This was why I’d kept my guard up around her and avoided her. Iris was too damn good at dismantling walls as though they were never there. Part of me almost wanted to let her through, to see what would happen when she got to the ice.

  I imagined one slender finger poking it and cracking it, and everything melting away.

  For a moment, it was so tantalizing, I found myself taking the steps two at a time and eyeing the bathroom door. I always, always wore the armor of a protector. Lived under the ice.

  If the predator broke free, I wasn’t sure I’d recognize myself. Even though I knew, logically, it was a part of me I’d locked away. Sometimes it made me so numb, I said shit without even realizing how it came off. Or didn’t say anything at all.

  At that moment, I knew if I saw Iris—if she acknowledged the leap of heat between us that I’d spent weeks barely holding off—it would be over.

  Or if she knew the truth, instead of the fib I’d told her earlier.

  I hadn’t been coming to check on her. I’d been coming to get her because something had tugged at me and said she was in trouble. Something I couldn’t ignore.

  An instinct I’d felt dimly a month or so ago when she’d been at the auction.

  Another reason I’d been avoiding her. I could sense the weight and uncertainty hovering around her as she worked, the worry about this situation and me.

  Worse, I could see it on her face.

  The shower turned on, and I silently spun away, angry at myself. Both for wanting to give in and for walking away. But it shouldn’t be like that. A stolen moment buoyed by insanity and desire.

  For right now, nothing was certain. There was still a chance Iris wasn’t…

  Shoving that all away, I dried off, got dressed, and went downstairs. If I let myself dwell on any of that, I’d spiral down and hurt her again. For now, I would try to be a friend and as good a fake mate as I could be. That way, Versk would keep his hands to himself, and Iris wouldn’t have to walk around on eggshells.

  Yet underneath everything, I couldn’t repress the little glimmers of joy I stole from our interactions. The stupid things that made me want to smile.

  Like Iris glaring at me in the rain and telling me off, her eyes filled with fire. It made me happy to see her take a stand like that. Better yet, she wasn’t indifferent or done with me. If there was passion, she still cared. It wasn’t fair to her, but it filled me with heady relief.

  Or Iris gripping my shirt, then smirking to herself as I flailed around, for a change.

  Never mind the way she’d regarded me in the hallway earlier. That passion again, a hungry one, too. Probably woken up under her anger. It took a lot of self-restraint not to smile or even allow myself to think about how I’d indulge it.

  Delicious and beautiful little honeycomb.

  Something akin to a groan slipped free of me, and I spun around to make sure Iris wasn’t in the kitchen. She wasn’t.

  Glancing at the time, I was surprised she wasn’t down here and harassing me for food. The shower was off, but Iris was still in her room. Quietly, I crept upstairs and listened at her door.

  Light snoring came from within. Cracking it open, I saw Iris had fallen asleep on top of the covers. She was wearing a thick bathrobe, and her hair was clumsily braided in one loose plait. Slipping inside, I pulled back the covers and lifted her in one fluid movement under them. Iris didn’t stir once. She must have been exhausted.

  “Night, honeycomb,” I murmured and tucked her in, before leaving and hitting the light.

  We could talk tomorrow.

  Hours before dawn, I woke up, hands reaching out for a gun and straining for a sound of attack from the quiet desert. Chest heaving, sweat pouring down my face, it took a few moments for me to realize that that world was a memory. I wasn’t in a tent in the middle of a war.

  I was in Winfyre, and it was in danger.

  In moments, I was dressed and rushing downstairs. While yanking on my boots, my eyes went to the kitchen, and my fingers slipped. There, on the counter, was the vase of flowers I’d left Iris. Quickly, I finished getting my boots on and flew in, scribbling down a note, then leaving it under the flowers. They were still full and blooming, even weeks later.

  She’ll be safe here, I told myself, even as I hesitated. Some part of me wanted to wake her up and tell her to go to Luke’s. He was closest, and I was sure he’d have shifters hanging around the house to watch over Reagan and Caleb. But at the same time, I didn’t have time. Xander had already gone to the border, and my brothers were well on their way. For once, I wasn’t first.

  Jotting down a P.S. to go and see Reagan if she got lonely, I forced myself to leave.

  The cold air slipped deeply into my lungs as I raced toward the border, every instinct roaring and the night sky pressing down. I hadn’t felt a rush of alarm like this in years, and it shook me, waking me up and rattling my old fears. I’d thought I hadn’t let the peace of the territories get to me.

  I was wrong.

  Charging up the hill like a bull, I almost knocked over Jeques as I came in, and he held up a hand, steadying me as I shifted back. “Easy,” he said in his warm voice, but his eyes were hard and cold. Taking in every detail. “You haven’t missed the fun.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, breathing hard, and Fallon came over.

  There was a circle of Northbane shifters prowling around, some holding up the bright white lights that Finch had fashioned for us. Powered by derenium and firsase crystals, they weren’t often used. That’s when I saw the broad shoulders of Niles as he looked over three men.

  They were all restrained, kneeling on the ground, and shifters were fanned out around them. As I moved closer, my stomach knotted and twisted into my throat. Every man had been trussed from head to toe. Xander was standing in front of them, face impassive and arms folded. Tristan was standing off to the side, talking to Rett, and both of them looked uneasy. Luke was pacing on the other side, his mind going a mile a minute, and I held out a hand, stopping him. The look he gave me confirmed all my worst fears.

  “I know Lind is still alive,” Luke said, naming the ex-fiancée who’d handed his father over to the Stasis Bureau. The bastards had killed the old man and left him outside his own house so Luke could find the body. Anger snapped up my spine at the mere mention of her name. “She sent them. Even left us a note to find.”

  I didn't know what to say. But I thought maybe Iris would.

  “All the more reason to hold steady, Swift,” I finally got out. “We’ve been through worse.”

  “Doesn’t mean I want to go through it again.”

  “Buck up, soldier,” I said under my breath. “I’m sure everyone is freaked out. While I appreciate your mind working and planning, worrying is going to tear us apart. Step aside if you must, but calm the hell down. And make sure those two idiots do, too.” I jerked my head at Tristan and Rett. “Winfyre needs us to be calm and collected in the face of this.”

  Luke nodded and took a deep breath, snapping out of it. “You’re right.” He gripped my shoulder, and we exchanged a wordless nod as he went over to Rett and Tristan.

  I walked up to Xander, who was watching as one man twitched against his ropes and snarled around his gag. We never tied up shifters like this. But these men were corrupted.

  “Seems Orion found out another way to give us nightmares,” Xander said. “He made it real.”

  Bloodlust.

  Chapter Twenty-On
e

  Kal

  Stomach churning, chest aching and filled with rage, I couldn’t gather my thoughts for several moments. Now I understood the frantic nature of my brothers, their slip of self-control.

  Finally, we had to admit Orion had done it. There was no other explanation.

  Directly after the Rift, the Stasis Bureau had capitalized on the confusion of the public and whipped it into hysteria. One ruthless, cruel way was the rumors of something they called “Bloodlust.” It was said to happen randomly to any shifter—a sudden loss of self and an unchecked appetite, leading to a murderous rampage.

  What had really happened was that a few poor souls couldn't make sense of being shifters and had died painful deaths, often after lashing out at their families. But from what we knew, no shifter who was in the throes of that intense, post-Rift pain, a kind of Rift-PTSD, had killed anyone. Families were adamant about that. The shifters in question had been angry and sullen, but that anger had been turned inward.

  Orion, we knew, wanted to turn that anger outward.

  “Overriding the instincts to protect, unleashing a feral, unchecked, and primal anger,” I murmured and watched as one man tried to twist away from Niles. “A need to survive.”

  “If they hadn’t turned on each other a few miles after breaching the border, who knows how far they would’ve gotten in?” Xander said. To me alone, he said, I can’t sense them.

  For the first time in almost five years, I saw something leap into my friend’s eyes.

  Fear.

  Gripping his arm, I hissed in his ear, “Xander, we will figure this out. We always do. We survive. Winfyre is proof of that—proof of resiliency and hope.”

  Xander blew out a breath and seemed to come back to himself, a smile flitting over his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I lost my head there for a moment.” Raising an eyebrow at me, he leaned in and drawled, “Hey, you’re late. Iris?”

  “No,” I grunted and went to turn away when Xander let out a laugh. “What? You’re laughing now?”

  “Yeah, ’cause it took me a second to realize…” Xander put a hand to his chest. “At least something is going right.”

  “He’s trying to use these feral fools as what, some kind of advance guard?” I asked and sniffed at one. I could tell the poor fool didn’t even know his name. “Doped out of their minds, nothing but adrenaline and insanity at this point.”

  Suddenly one of them began to shake, gargling, and we all rushed towards him. He fell over, going rigid, and blood trickled from his nose. Niles attempted to heal him, and the clearing fell quiet.

  “He’s gone,” Niles said a few moments later.

  “Guess it’s not perfected after all,” I said. “This was to disconcert us. Make us worry.” I stood up and looked at the other men. “Can you cure them, Niles?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t know what they were given…” Niles also stood up and gestured with his head, away from the men and other shifters.

  “Watch them,” Xander said, and immediately shifters converged. “A few others, take care of the other one. Burn the body.”

  “What is it, Niles?” I asked.

  “It’s not just physical,” Niles said. “Their minds are altered.” We both stared at him. “Their brains are atrophying in specific ways. It’s like whatever Orion or perhaps the SB did was to try to hack away at their humanity while increasing their shifter abilities.”

  “So, shifters can’t just be infected with this,” Xander said in a gust of air. His relief was palpable, and even I felt a knot loosen around my heart as Niles shook his head.

  “Their blood contains traces of the poison that was used on Kal,” Niles said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “You’re fine,” Niles said, and I scowled. He laughed lightly. “Apologies, Deacon, I didn’t mean to undercut you…I meant to point out that these toxins are living in their blood. Remember, it took you a while to succumb to it. It is the same for them.” He blew out a sigh. “I think Orion means to use them like kamikazes or suicide bombers.”

  The silence that fell at that was electric. Horror and rage filled me.

  “Do they know?” Xander asked after a moment.

  “It’s hard to say,” Niles said. “Their minds are gone. I doubt any of them will last the night.”

  “So, Kal was right," came Luke's quiet and thoughtful voice. Rett, Tristan, and Luke had finally joined us. "This was to shove in our faces that the SB is still lurking in the shadows. That Orion is still working against us. And that our borders are not as safe as we’d hoped.”

  “Is there any way to detect it?” Tristan asked.

  I stared at him, a little confused until it clicked into place.

  “Dammit,” I swore, now about to lose control myself.

  Orion could sneak in Bloodlust shifters right under our noses. Disguised as travelers, waiting until the toxins unraveled them and they went on a rampage. They could even be here now.

  “The Coven will need to double-check, but I believe the poison will be a giveaway,” Niles said. “And they’ve been checking for that already.”

  “Will you attend to the last two?” Xander asked. “We need to speak.” Once the five of us were alone, he sighed. “This oughta be fun.”

  “We’re going to need to sweep the settlements,” my cousin spoke up, voicing my thoughts. “Check on new refugees. And warn our citizens without sending them into despair or panic.” His voice was now wry. “No problem.”

  “It’s not a problem,” I growled. “I’ll go to Veda tonight with one of them.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Luke said, and there was silence. He scowled. “Reagan can handle it.”

  “Can you handle it?” Rett asked bluntly. “I’ve been there. Caleb is still a baby.”

  “I have no choice,” Luke said, and a cold look settled into his features. “We’re Alphas.”

  “We should let the other one go,” Tristan said. “Scare him into shifting and then follow him. I’m sure Orion will be expecting that, but perhaps we can get a trail.”

  It was a callous and bleak suggestion, said in the voice of a soldier. I had to close my eyes and go to the place deep inside to find calm. When it stole over me, I had the strangest sense that I was being embraced by Iris, her head on my back, and her arms around my torso.

  “Niles said he won’t last the night,” Xander finally said. “Go. Take Fallon, Jeques, and whoever else can be spared. Don't split up.” Rett and Tristan hurried off. Xander glanced into the distance, probably talking to Beylore, and a second later, a Riftborn appeared at his elbow. Hooded and masked, she nodded at us. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I will help with the transfer,” she said in a low, husky voice.

  Not Beylore but someone older. We didn’t know every member of the Coven. That was Beylore’s job. Seeing as how the Coven had made far fewer mistakes than the Alphas, they’d earned the right to call those shots.

  A few moments later, the four of us were on a cold hilltop near Veda. Beylore was waiting, and she prowled forward, along with other members of the Coven. The man began to whimper and thrash, trying to break the inhibitor bonds that kept him human. Somehow, the noises he was making sounded more animal. Abruptly, they were cut off as the hooded figures moved in.

  “Deadly and deluded,” said the Riftborn standing between Luke and me. She reached up, pulling off her mask and shaking back her hood. The wind ruffled her graying curls, and she turned to us, smiling as we both gaped at her. “Hello, boys. I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me,” she tsked. “Losing your touch?”

  “Yana,” Luke said, recovering first. “What are you doing here? I mean…”

  "Ah, I've been getting better at leaving more often," Yana said and inhaled the breezy air. "So long as I'm not in too crowded a place, I don't get overwhelmed." She cut her eyes at us. "Both of you can stop fussing like old women since I'm the only old woman here."

  Yana was a power
ful Riftborn and an eagle shifter, a rare, if not unheard-of, combination. But usually one overtook the other. For Yana, though, her empath powers had been so great, she’d been forced to retreat from society. Yana had the ability to read people, to gauge their abilities and intentions and so forth. Other Riftborn had powers like hers, like Tello at the gates, who could sense if someone might pose a threat to Winfyre, but not on her scale.

  Even now, she smiled at me and tilted her head. “Something’s different about you, Kal.” My face began to warm, and Luke’s eyebrows flicked up. “I can’t wait to meet the woman responsible.”

  “Nothing is different,” I said in a patient, almost bored voice. “Don’t listen to idle gossip.”

  “Who do I gossip with?” Yana demanded. “I’m looking in your eyes, boy. And I can see the way you are trying not to smile, even as your heart rate increases…”

  “Enough,” I said with a laugh.

  Luke snorted and then looked grave as Yana glanced at him. “Her name is Iris.”

  “Oh, I know her name, Lukas,” Yana said. “Need I remind you of a man who came to me, sweating and desperate, about a woman named Reagan?” Now I looked at Luke with smug interest. “More than once, I might add?”

  “All right, fair enough. So, what’s his story?” Luke asked, nodding at the man ahead of us. “I know that’s why Xander called you.”

  "Hard to say," Yana mused. "Right now, there is too much darkness and conflict in him. A storm choking off his soul and throttling his life. Beylore is trying to drive it back.”

  As Yana and Luke discussed it in an undertone, I turned away from the scene to watch the distant lights of Veda. I thought, suddenly, of Laia, Rett’s mate. She’d been manipulated and marked by Orion and the Excris, sent to Winfyre in a not dissimilar way. A weapon to sneak by us, although her soul hadn’t been tainted—though Orion did try to rip her sense of self away from her.

  “Was it the crian shard?” I asked during a lull. I realized Luke had walked away to talk to one of the Coven, leaving me and Yana alone. “Was he marked by an augris?”