Kalina ~ Book Four

“No.”

The word ricocheted around her, forcing a soft whine from Sylvie’s lips as Fray dropped to his knees in front of her, full of need. That’s what he had said to her—the feeling between them.

Need.

Rowan's wending touch on her core only drove her to madness, and she bucked her hips to get more. More friction. More pressure. More everything.

Fraser kept his hands heavy at his sides, but his eyes lit with a fire she had seen many times before. The fiery lust was visible in her two mates at his back, and she whined again, back arching as Rowan gave her the touch she needed.

Smooth, whirling orbit around the clit. She froze, body shaking in tense anticipation as his rhythm continued, unwavering. Every breath in the room held in silent desire as she inhaled, inhaled, inhaled…

And released.

The waves of pleasure inside her drew intoxicating moans from every inhabitant. She pulled back enough to stop them all coming, though, and she laughed breathily at the growl at her back. Blue balls would be their punishment for this unexpected delight.

Fray’s eyes shone as Sylvie’s dress dropped back into place, and Rowan released her onto her shaky legs,

Fray's legs were tucked under him as if he were about to drop his head to the floor and pray at her feet.

“Kalina-”

But his voice broke, and the rest of his words didn't follow the name, the lie she had given. Kalina may have been her parent's final gift to her, but it wasn’t her. He could never know the truth, not after this.

It was painful and confusing enough for him to know Elias was her mate without the whole truth—the Triad.

Gift of the Fates and trifecta of pain in the ass.

The three pain in the asses in question ghosted from the room as if they’d never been there except for the soothing emotional caress of Kian as he exited the office door, closing it softly behind him.

Fray finally stood to full height, his posture rigid. From the looks of it, he’d need an icy shower to help with what he’d just been privy to.

“The Animae dimidium meae,” he said then. “Was the gift Rowan gave us.”

“I know.”

“You know what it does.”

“Yes.”

He said nothing more, the question clear between them. His intention was plain in his eyes. But she couldn’t answer him. She couldn't give him what he silently wished for whether she felt the impossible tugging between them or not. Whether his touch stirred her spirit in a similar way to her mates or not.

“I have to go,” she said softly, sidestepping his rigid form. He didn’t touch her as she passed and reached his door.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She hoped he heard the other words left unspoken.

“Don’t be,” he replied, keeping his back turned to her as she left the room and tugged the door, leaving it ajar just long enough to hear him storm into another section of the room, the sound of rushing water filling her ears. Despite everything, she smiled, walking towards her mates who waited outside the packhouse.

“S-Kalina?” Claudine said as she had made it to the first story.

Sylvie turned and looked her up and down, smirking at the mussed hair and swollen red lips.

“Yeah?”

But Claudine didn’t smile back. She winced. “Don’t come back here.”

The words hovered in the air between them, and Sylvie narrowed her eyes, trying to repress the hurt, rage, and despair of losing another friend.

But Claudine shook her head, a flicker of pain in her eyes and turned away, disappearing into a room she had come from, leaving Sylvie dumbfounded in the hall, her ghost still lingering before her.

It was only mid-afternoon, but Sylvie was asleep in Rowan’s arms as they trudged back from the edge of the property. Kian’s portalling turned his skin ashen, but his eyes were bright as they peered at their slumbering mate.

Her pink cheeks and shallow breathing were either a signal of her reminiscing about their earlier encounter or perhaps a Fate prophecy that Rowan neither wanted to think about nor dwell on.

“Do you think we went too far?” he asked softly, pulling Sylvie tighter against him as she stirred.

Elias sighed, reaching over to brush a hair of her brow and shook his head. “He wants her, and we used that to get information.”

“We should have told her.”

“Our mateship is nothing without trust. She trusts us, and we trust her even if she’s been a lying little minx.”

“Elias,” Kian chastised, giving him the brunt of his annoyance.

Rowan grumbled his agreement and stepped carefully up the steps of their home. Elias opened the door and let them in, his voice following him as he tucked Sylvie into their bed in the spare room.

“Now he has the artefact, he will consider the merge. It’s what we planned for and what we need to protect her from her enemies.”

Rowan returned to the lounge, where Elias and Kian sat reclined on the couch. Kian had a hand draped across his face, his feet kicked up on the large square ottoman, while Elias’ lingering gaze never left Rowan.

“She wouldn’t have all these enemies if it wasn’t for us,” Rowan grunted, finding a free spot to sit. He rubbed his mark as it started to warm. Sex dreams it was.

Kian shifted in his seat, palming his chest too. Elias didn't move, but his face flickered.

“We cannot undo what Fate has decided for us,” Elias said then. “The wraith was a big enough slip, and I’m not willing to make mistakes like that again, not when it comes to the Vampires. A beast without hope has nothing to lose.”

Kian groaned. “The wraith was my fault. I should have-”

“Kian, enough of the self-pity. She doesn’t even blame you,” Rowan said.

The Fae prince pouted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She should.”

Elias leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “With the Wards in place again, demons won’t be a problem.”

“Isn’t Magnus doing the trials now?” Rowan asked. “Surely, if he slaughters enough of the defectors, the others will fall into line.”

“No. Magnus is a strong General, but he is no King. The weak may still follow him, but the strong, the ones who believe Sylvie is withholding kindred bonds, will never bow to his rules. Never.”

“What about yours?” Kian's words hung in the air for a few moments. Elias’ jaw ticked before he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“I left that life a long time ago. It’s too late.”

“What would Sylvie say?”

Elias snarled and stood, storming to the fridge to grab a blood bag. He stilled as the distant sound of Sylvie rustling in the duvet was enough to mellow some of his flames. “It doesn’t matter. I have enough to concern myself with instead of the concept of reclaiming my crown.”

Rowan stood and passed him to the kitchen, pulling out some dried pasta and a large pot. Sylvie would be hungry after her post-orgasm nap, and even if she claimed she wasn’t, he'd make sure she ate at least a little before the end of the day.

“The human never showed up?”

Elias shook his head and slid onto the stool of the breakfast bar. “After Penny was found, over twenty staff handed in their resignation. He’s been gone long enough without notice for dismissal, but I’d have to find him first, and it’s not high on my list of priorities. The smarmy prick.”

“Smarmy.”

Rowan salted the water in his pot and turned the element on hot. He contemplated dumping the pasta in early and letting the water ‘do its thing’, but Kian ‘the chef’ had come to monitor his cooking from Elias’ side, so he waited, rereading the cooking instructions.

Stew was his speciality, any stew. You could just throw anything in, and it would turn out delicious, but pasta, the finicky thing he always fucked up. It was either too chewy or falling apart from its softness.

“You’ve made pasta a million times.”

He slammed the bag on the counter with a scowl. “Nothing wrong with checking.”

Kian smiled, a chuckle warming his face as Rowan rolled his eyes.

“You don’t think merging with Fraser's pack would be more risky? We don’t know those shifters,” Kian said then. He’d voiced those concerns before, but this time felt different.

The shifters in Fraser's pack had troubled pasts, and none seemed to know their history. None were trained, and they all had human jobs, living amongst the people like they were human themselves.

It might as well be like adding more helpless children to their pack. His old pack members, though, would be a welcome return.

He hadn't told Sylvie any of his concerns, wary of not burdening her after the girl's death, but the mates from Fraser's pack were odd. He’d spent time training them, and yet nothing stuck.

Their mates looked on with hearts in their eyes, but Rowan couldn't quite grasp it. The Fates never made mistakes with mate bonds, but he couldn't see how any of Fraser's pack members were good enough for his.

“It’s too late now. Sylvie likes him.”

“An infatuation,” Elias disregarded him. “He and his brother are different from his pack. While those shifters are more human, their Alpha is not. I could feel his beast stirring under my grip.”

“I know,” Rowan grunted, stirring the pot of tepid water.

Even he had sensed the other Alpha’s dominance seeking his out. Rowan had no doubt their battle would destroy them both, so he ensured they would be allies.

Sylvie’s apparent warmth towards him helped things along immensely, and despite Rowan's occasional possessiveness, he found he didn't mind. Having someone who only knew her as a person and not the enigma that was the queen of three realms must have been refreshing.

He hadn't missed her discomfort at the looks of adoration she received over the years. It was one of the reasons he initially pushed her to step in as teacher and healer, to get her away from the masses.

His brain tickled, and he opened the mind link as Elias and Kian's conversation returned to old topics he was sick of discussing.

Where is yer mate, Rowan?

Amira. Only she had the right and nerve to call him by his given name.

Asleep.

I sense yer visit went well then.

Well, enough. Did you need something?

I was seeking my Ban-ogha, but it can wait. Let her rest.

A pain travelled down the mind link, and Rowan winced enough for his mates by proxy to give him a look. He waved them away.

Are you sure you're alright, Amira?

Aye, dinna fash, laddie. Look after yer mate. Protect her.

Always.

Aye.

The mind link died, and Rowan couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation long after the water boiled and his pasta turned to mush.