Ice Bear's Bid (Northbane Shifters Book 4)

by Isabella Hunt

  Instead, he’d simply suppress a smile with a glint in his eye. Like now.

  “You.” His eyes closed. “You’re a lot more work than I anticipated.”

  I huffed out a breath. “I could say the same to you.”

  This time, Kal did smile and lowered the chair legs. Then his gray eyes opened. He slowly stood, and I straightened, staring him down as he rested his hands on the table and leaned towards me. We stared at each other for several moments, neither willing to break first. Cool tingles broke out along my skin, and I finally raised my eyebrows.

  “Mmh.” Kal’s smile was getting under my skin. Then he had the gall to turn around and walk away, without saying a word. I threw up my hands and stuck out my tongue at his retreating back. He glanced over his shoulder, and I froze, pulling my tongue back in. “I’ll just be in the other room.”

  It took considerable self-restraint not to throw a book at his head.

  The next few days passed in a blur of work and running around. Eventually, it was just Kal and me in the house, although both of us were so busy, we had scant time to talk. If Kal wasn't there, though, someone else always was. Including a nice day spent with his mother, sisters, and stepfather. Kal even came home that night, and we all had dinner together. Then another day with his Nan and Corinna. It was getting harder and harder not to wish that Kal and I…

  I cut those thoughts off. Kal was a good, cherished friend who’d saved my life countless times. I can’t ask for more.

  Finally, one afternoon, I was on the final page of Orion's book, flipping it back and forth between my fingers. There was still a lot of checking to do, but it was still a relief to get to this point.

  Getting up, I stretched and went to the window. Snow had fallen overnight, but most of it was melted now in the bright sunshine. Kal said it would be another few weeks before it would stick, then keep sticking and get deeper.

  It hit me that I needed to wrap this up and travel south before traveling was next to impossible. While I was sure Winfyre would let me use the Hopper, I still had no desire to. No, I needed to wrap everything up and probably try to leave within the next two weeks.

  I should tell Kal, I thought and twisted my hands together. Going into the living room, I found him half-awake on the couch, eyes closed and a book on his chest. His hair was tousled, and I had the sudden urge to curl up on top of him, run my fingers through his hair, and—

  Whoa. Easy now.

  Walking to the back of the couch seemed like a safer bet. I rested my elbows on it and bent over him a little, forcing myself to smile. Kal cracked an eye open and sighed.

  “What fresh hell have you cooked up for me today, Iris Lisay?”

  “What—I-I haven’t!” I exclaimed. “It’s the exact opposite. Why do you keep thinking I’m doing those kinds of things?” I could never quite tell if he was teasing when he asked me questions like that. Kal said nothing. “So, guess what?”

  “No.”

  With an irritated sigh, I went to straighten up, but Kal’s hand landed on my folded arms. With one hand, he easily spanned both forearms and pinned them to the back of the couch. Gray eyes glinted, and he grinned, nodding at me to go on before he’d let me go.

  “I’m almost done,” I said, trying to wriggle free. “Last page.” He sat up, nodding and looking impressed. “Probably be out of here within a week or so.”

  The grip on my arms went tight, then relaxed, and I stood up, drumming my fingers on the back of the couch as Kal stood, one knee resting on the couch and his hands on either side of mine.

  “Out of where?” he rumbled.

  “Back to Nordrem,” I said, and Kal let out a bark of laughter. “Listen, I appreciate—”

  “No,” he interrupted, and I blew out a breath, counting to ten. “Hell, no. You’re not going back to Nordrem or the Greyclaw.” He gave an impatient shake of his head and pushed away from the couch, standing and stretching. Damn him for being so tall. “What are you thinking? You’re staying here, with me, where it’s safe.”

  “I know Winfyre is a better—wait, did you, what—” I was tripping over my own tongue. “Stay with you?” Kal nodded and let his arms fall to his sides, cocking his head at me. There was a gleam in his eyes like he dared me to fight him on this. A hysterical urge to laugh was rising instead. “In this house—like what, roommates?”

  “Sure.”

  “Kal, no. If I stay in Winfyre, I’ll go…” I started to say and trailed off as Kal looked away, trying to hide a smile. “What the hell—what did you do?” He shrugged and strolled into the kitchen. “Kallen Deacon, I am not staying here. I should live somewhere else.”

  “You already live here,” he called back.

  I followed him, breathing hard and not sure why I was so infuriated. Maybe it was this nonchalant, dominant side that I couldn’t seem to win against. Or maybe it was because deep down, this was what I wanted, and Kal knew it, so he thought it amusing that I was pretending not to.

  Kal was pulling out a bowl of food, and I snatched it from him, holding it behind my back. “I need to eat,” he said. “You should know I eat kind of a lot. Don’t worry, roomie, there’s plenty for the both of us.” I dropped the container onto the counter and grabbed his wrists. One eyebrow rose. “Not to point out the obvious here, but we’re a bit outmatched, blondie.”

  “You’re up to something,” I said. “Why do you think I’m living here?”

  “Because you are,” Kal said. He was distractingly warm and smelled good, better than usual, in fact, with a spice under his winter scent. “Are you smelling me?”

  “No,” I said and shoved his hands away. “Kal, you have no say in this. I do.”

  “What do you need?” he asked and put his hands on my shoulders. “I told you that you could ask for anything. You never did.” I felt my mouth bunch up. “You like it here. The quiet, the books, your study, and whatever else you want.” One big hand went to his chest. “I’m just a fringe benefit.”

  Dammit. I knew under that ice, Kal would end up being too disarming and devious for his own good. I didn’t realize he’d also have an infuriating and endearing bossy side. Part of which I knew was called for since I’d almost been killed by Excris a week ago.

  But right now, I hated being right. I also hated that I loved it. And that I was enjoying myself, the fire in my belly and the way Kal’s thumb rested on my collarbone.

  “So?” Kal prompted. “Is there something you needed?”

  You know I won’t ask, I yelled in my head, and Kal all but dimpled. Batting his hands away, I growled, “Alpha or not, you can’t dictate where I live.”

  “Actually,” Kal said meditatively, “that’s one of the few things I do make a call on.”

  “You can’t,” I said.

  “Watch me,” Kal said and tapped me under my chin. “Want lunch?”

  The next day, I found three giant chests in my room, all neatly packed with everything I’d owned from the Greyclaw. As I was going through them, fingers drifting over the fragments of my life that I’d managed to hold onto, Kal had come to the door and leaned against the frame.

  “You’re unbelievable,” I told him.

  “And you’re welcome, honeycomb,” he replied.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Kal

  “I’ve never seen you like this,” Tristan remarked.

  Reaching out, I grabbed him in a headlock out of reflex. “Like what?”

  “Nervous,” he laughed, and I gave him a light noogie. “And barely keeping your cool.”

  Letting him go with a slight shove, I shook my head and didn't answer. Rett and Luke were standing off on either side of the trail home with shit-eating grins and plenty of things to heckle me about. These three idiots had followed me from our meeting with Xander, a week and a half out from the Unseen attack. Not to talk strategy or about Winfyre, but to give me hell about mates and make all kinds of inappropriate comments.

  “Go home,” I bellowed as I heard them yell again
and turned. “I’m gonna kick your asses in a second.”

  “Kallen.”

  I turned and saw my mother coming down the trail. Howls of laughter echoed up, and I turned again, but a black bear, tiger, and wolf were loping off, snapping at each other.

  “Sorry, Ma,” I said and looked up at her. “Wait, is Iris alone?”

  “I knew you were coming,” she said and smiled at me. “She’s fine.”

  “I know, it’s…” I didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t just Iris’s safety but her shyness and loneliness that weighed on my heart. “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” my mother said. “So, have you told her yet?” I shook my head, trying not to show my confusion, but my mother was good at calling my bluff. “I know. Yana told me. And your cousin. And I knew something was up.” I gaped at her. “Why pretend, though, when it’s clearly not?”

  “Long story,” I muttered, and my mother raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I didn’t know at first.” My mother said nothing, just looked at me. “I didn’t want to admit it, and I was…afraid.” I bit out the last word so low and harshly, it was a wonder my mother could hear it. “Now we’re in limbo.”

  “Kallen, tell her,” my mother said. “The longer you delay, the harder it will get.”

  I nodded, rubbing my face and trying not to think too hard about the fact that my mother was giving me romantic advice. She seemed to pick up on that because she laughed and kissed my forehead.

  “You are so like your father. He was so shy and nervous around me, all six feet and five inches of him, dropping stuff and second-guessing himself. Finally, I told him.” Her smile was curvy and delighted, her eyes distant. “He was so shocked, he laughed. And I liked to give him a hard time about beating him to it.” She patted my cheek. “You’re also my son, and we’re sore losers. Tell her.”

  Over the next few days, I tried to. But there was always something calling my attention away, or the moment seemed to slip by. Beylore had left the explanation of the healing to me, too. Something else I needed to tell her.

  Not sure how Iris was going to feel about my traipsing around her mind.

  Meanwhile, I was losing my own.

  Every accidental brush against each other, every time Iris lifted her eyes to mine and made that faux-serious face where she nodded, every time she sighed and smiled, every time she said my name…that last one, especially. No matter the intonation, it made my heart leap, even if Iris was scowling or trying to use my full name for emphasis.

  Several days later, my sanity was hanging on by a thread. I’d had a dream about her standing in that treehouse and looking at her bare back in the mirror. Only this time, somehow, the treehouse was here, and…even the ice-cold shower didn’t calm me down.

  Worse, I got called out early that morning and didn’t see her all day. And because it was last minute, no one could go and stay with her. I was chomping at the bit to get home all day.

  However, Iris was asleep by the time I did so.

  Standing outside her door, I could tell she was sleeping. I wondered if she’d unpacked or if she was still furious that I’d taken matters into my own hands. What was supposed to be a sweet gesture had ended up looking like the obstinate move of a blockheaded asshole.

  Not a lovesick bear who could only pray his mate liked him an iota after the shit he'd pulled.

  Coming downstairs a few days later, I was happy to see Iris was up first. About to make a light comment, I noticed the slump of her shoulders and the way her feet dragged.

  “Are you sick?” I was already across the kitchen and lifting her chin to mine. Shadowed eyes, pale and clammy skin. “Iris, here, let me.” I took the kettle from her without protest. “Do you need me to call Rogda?”

  She shook her head and rubbed her face, then gave me a small smile. “No, I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well.” Placing the kettle down forcefully, as nerves crawled under my skin, I saw that Iris must have sensed my alarm. “Kal, there’s nothing you can do. Probably getting a cold.”

  “Yes, there is,” I said. “Soup and tea, and you go rest.”

  “All right.”

  Her small, concise agreement unnerved me, as did the lethargy in her movements. Usually, Iris was as bright and fluttery as a bee. Now she was a tired little ghost, sad and withdrawn.

  This continued all day, with Iris napping and barely eating. She tried gallantly to smile and talk when I was around, but she was also distant. Her soul was elsewhere.

  Waking up the next day, I realized Iris wasn’t in the house.

  I shot to my feet and stumbled downstairs, throwing on boots and a jacket, before running outside. Her trail was easy to find, and it led me to a rock outcropping. My spot. She’d found it.

  Iris was leaning heavily against one of the rocks, a hand over her face, and her shoulders shaking. It was an old grief, one of loss and a life forever changed. More than anything, I wanted to go to her and comfort her, but not if she didn’t want me here.

  I went to draw back when she lifted her face, mopping it with her sleeve, and caught a glimpse of me. The sight of Iris against a pale dawn, the stark winter woods, and her tearstained face broke my heart. My own eyes stung, and I came forward, clumsy and hands out.

  “Kal, oh,” Iris said and wiped at her face. “No, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not,” I said and drew her into a hug, tucking her face into my neck. “And you don’t have to be.” Running my hand over her hair and in circles on her back, I murmured, “I’ve got you.”

  Iris let out a ragged sob, suddenly, and another, her arms going inside my jacket and around my midriff. She held on tightly, fingers digging in and pressing into me. Everything shook, and I wished I could do something more. Helplessness came over me, so I held her more tightly.

  “I’m here,” I heard myself say. “I’ll always be here, I promise, Iris.”

  “You don’t have to…” Iris said in a broken voice. “Done more than enough.”

  “I want to,” I said and gave her a shake. “I would do anything for you.” My voice cracked. “Ask. Ask me anything. What can I do?”

  “Don’t let go,” Iris whispered. “Not yet.”

  How about never?

  I held her as the sun rose, and her sobs grew easier. Finally, her body language began to change and tense up. I knew she was embarrassed.

  “Kal, I…”

  Swinging her up, I said nothing, only brought her home with the intention of getting her warm. Only inside the house did I tell her to take her boots off and wipe off her face. But not to leave my sight, or I’d track her down again. Iris looked a little shell-shocked, but there’d been a glimmer of amusement at that.

  Once I got a fire going and got her some water, I sat down and shrugged out of my damp flannel, glad I’d worn a shirt underneath it. Fluffing up a pillow, I laid it on my lap and then snaked an arm around Iris’s waist, pulling her to me. She curled up without a word.

  Dressed in a thin excuse for a shirt and leggings, Iris was cold to the touch, and tense. Everything was knotted into a ball. I nudged her over a little and began to rub her back, the other hand working out the knots at her shoulder.

  “Kal—”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No,” Iris said and sat up, pushing her hair back. “This is too much. This is…”

  "I forget," I said, and my voice shook slightly. "It's on me, Iris. I forget that you've lost people, too, and that you know…" I rubbed at my own chest. "How that ache can come and go. Sometimes it's so bad, you think it will tear you apart from the inside out." I reached out and tried to brush away her tears. "For someone who can't lie when it comes to this shit, you've got me beat. You can carry on, lighthearted and happy, focusing on the good.” My hand cupped her cheek. “First time I laid eyes on you…first time, I knew, I sensed that you had some steel in you, woman.”

  “Oh, Kal,” Iris said, and she closed her eyes, tears falling fast.

  “Cry as much as you want, Iris,” I said. “I
’ll be here. All day, all night.” Her fingers found my shirt as she fell forward, and I caught her against me. “Let me catch you.”

  Her body sagged against me, and Iris let herself weep until she fell asleep in my arms.

  When Iris woke up, she thought I was asleep and tried to make a run for it. But I had her snugly against me, and I patted her head, shaking my own.

  “Tell me,” I said in a soft voice and opened my eyes. Sitting up a bit, I loosened my grip and let my hands slide down to her wrists. “I should have known before now. I’m sorry.”

  Iris swiped at her swollen eyes. “Ugh, you have to stop saying things like that.”

  With a sad, shaking breath, she related her past to me, and I listened, heart aching. Losing my dad had broken some piece of me that could never heal. But Iris had lost everything.

  “I would’ve liked your brother,” I said sometime later, after we'd talked. “And your mom. That’s where you get your wild side from, huh?” She laughed lightly. “But damn, Iris.”

  “They’d have liked you,” she murmured.

  “And we’ll try to find out about your friend, Tiani,” I said. Her dearest, closest friend, who might be missing, and Iris’s conflict because she didn’t want to bother us. “We’ll find her.”

  The two of them had been in the same foster home during the last of their teenage years. A better home than the one that Iris had initially been placed in, but a stay that was all too short. After that, Iris and Tiani had been roommates, sticking together all through college and the Rift.

  “Thank you.” Iris took a deep breath, looking lighter for having told me everything, and touched my hand. “And thank you for listening. Someday, I’d like to hear more about your dad and Brody.” Her eyes were clearer, and the flush had left her face. “When you’re ready.”

  "Brody's story is not mine to tell," I said. "But it was hard." Then I told her as much as I could—the good memories, ones I hadn’t visited in years, except in dreams. About how he'd been the one to rally us after the Rift and help us realize the potential of Winfyre. How his loss had hit us so hard we couldn't even speak of him during those first years, and we still had to keep a lot of the details under lock. "It's not easier, but…"