Kalina ~ Book Four

Sylvie stayed in her room for days. Rowan split his time between organising the extra three hundred bodies to house and feed and checking in on his despondent mate. She slept mostly.

She read books— the same page over and over on some days- and scarcely ate the food Kian prepared. Her appetite was non-existent, but she begged him to eat the food instead, her urge to not waste food or disappoint Kian a priority. After making her swallow at least three more bites of whatever food it was, he did.

That time, when Rowan entered their bedroom, he brought a visitor.

“Sylvie?”

“Yeah,” she croaked back, rolling over in the covers to peek at him under long, damp lashes.

His heart almost shattered at the sight of her. Although she had been hiding some of her emotions through their bond, he could read every single one on her face.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat and unclenched the fist from the doorknob before he ripped it off the door. “Kora is here to see you.”

She sighed but said nothing as Kora slid past and perched herself next to her daughter, not speaking until Rowan closed the door and was out of earshot.

Elias and Magnus stood outside talking as Rowan approached, his acknowledging nod reciprocated by both vampires.

“Alpha Rowan.”

“General.”

“I came to offer assistance in building the new cabins. Elias tells me your new human-born pack members struggle with the current sleeping arrangements.”

“The shifters from Alpha Fraser's pack are still his to lead.” Only a handful of shifters had defected to his pack, the rest remained loyal to their Lycan alpha. It made communicating a challenge, and after buying tents, food and supplies, he went straight to the nearest electronics store to get a new cellphone and added every single ‘visiting’ member's number.

“Of course.”

Rowan was clear that his number was only for important matters and emergencies, but that didn't stop the hundreds of messages complaining about their living conditions. He was in half a mind to tell them to leave if all they would do was whine at his hospitality but stopped when Kian took his phone and smoothed everything over. Now, they were organising specs for a communal hall large enough to fit five hundred. Self-contained and equipped with every amenity they could ever need.

“And yes, they are not used to sleeping in tents, let alone under the stars. Many of them have hardly shifted at all, even before joining Fraser.”

“Just point me in the right direction. I’d be happy to help.”

After sending Magnus and Elias towards the marked-out area to start felling trees, he returned to the house, pottering in the kitchen as he waited for Kora. It seemed like an age before she finally left the bedroom, giving Rowan a cursory glance before flitting from the house like a leaf on the wind.

Before he could take her place and check on his mate, the woman herself breezed past him and out the door, hair pulled back from her contemplative face and dressed in a clean tracksuit. He’d never complain seeing her in his oversized T-shirts and underwear, but it was good to see her in something else for a change.

He followed her but hung back as she disappeared into Amira’s cabin, pushing the door behind her and leaving it open a crack. As he neared, a familiar scraping sound filled his ears, and his wolf twitched.

The same sound on the night his healer died.

He palmed his mate mark and pressed forward just enough to see his mate lying on the floor where Amira’s body was found, eyes closed as if she were a corpse herself. He winced at the memory.

“So you know then?” he spoke lowly, to not startle her.

She didn't speak for a long time; instead, she inhaled deeply and fluttered her tired eyes open to stare at the roof. “I just needed to be sure.”

Rowan closed the distance to the cabin and slipped through the opening, sitting at her side and eyeing the knife only inches from her fingertips. Under it, a faint trace of iron. Amira had killed herself. No other scents marred the cabin that night beyond her own.

The amount of force it would have taken to cut that deep-

“The Demon said the Fates caused her death.” Not that he believed blindly the word of a demon, but Sylvie had sensed the truth in it. He waited for her to close off, but she didn’t. He blinked at the ghost of a smile that crossed her face as if she were remembering an inside joke.

“He did. But I wouldn’t take his word for anything. Besides, I always thought she was one, you know?”

Rowan stilled. “One what?”

“A Fate,” Sylvie breathed, letting her head fall to the side to peer at him under her damp lashes. “When’s the last time you saw her shift?”

He thought for a moment, about to scoff her idea away, but a strange weight blanketed his shoulder. “I- I don’t remember.”

“Not a full Fate, but maybe partly one.”

Rowan swallowed, unable to offer any evidence to counter his mate. She could probably hear his heart thundering at the prospect that a Fate lived under his nose, in his pack, and helped raise him after his father died.

“It’s the only way I can cope with it,” she said softly. “The only way I can make sense of her choice. Maybe she saw something and thought her death needed to happen.”

Rowan clenched his jaw at the flood of pain through the mate bond. He wouldn't say anything to the contrary even if he knew she was wrong. He could never hurt her like that. Hurt her more.

“But if I’m wrong,” her voice turned steely. “Then I won’t rest until the Fates suffer like they made her suffer. I will find a way into their realm and destroy them.”

Rowan fought the urge to back away from her intensity—an alpha of all alphas. The fire in her eyes warmed and burned him, and he only took a breath when she turned her gaze away, staring emptily at the rot-flecked ceiling.

Elias led his new interns through Fletcher Enterprises, placing them alongside some of his more experienced employees before shooting to his office.

He hadn’t expected so many shifters would want to make a career in his business when he offered them positions, but after the deaths, resignations and unauthorised firings, his staff was looking a little light. Having more people under his employ who knew the truth about him also had its uses.

His office looked almost entirely normal; the faint traces of Sam Grey, or Yalbaox, were gone, and he refilled his private blood stores. With a sigh, he snatched one out and drained the bag. He hated leaving his mate despondent in his bed, but he would be damned if he let the demon take any more from them.

Kian and Rowan texted him updates every hour. The last one had been that Sylvie ventured from the bedroom for the second time that day to train—running and archery.

It was more than he could have hoped. After the healer's death, he feared she might never recover from the loss, but somehow, as she had many times before, she surprised him. Perhaps the conversation with her mother had helped, but she picked herself up and rebuilt.

He only wished he could do it for her. Fix the broken parts and give her the perfect life she deserved.

The happiness after the pain.

“Mr Fletcher?” Jess, a fox shifter, and his new assistant called from the door.

“Yes.”

“There's a call on line two from a Samael Grey. Said it was important.”

Elias nearly lunged across the desk for the phone but leashed his emotions and waved her away. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a grin, toying with a curl brushing against her face. He clenched his jaw and stared her down, contemplating compelling her to get away from him. His expression seemed to convey his anger, and she retreated crestfallen.

The golden ring on his wedding finger should have been enough, but more often than not, especially with the humans, it only interested them more. He gave Jess a pass, just this once. She was in Fraser's pack and, as far as he knew, still ignorant about who Sylvie truly was. Not Kalina James, the hybrid, but Sylvie Hart, Queen of three realms.

With a grinding of his teeth, Elias scooped the phone from the receiver and pressed two, holding the device to his ear. “Speak.”

“How’s your little beauty?”

The barely restrained fury slipped a fraction, and he bit back a snarl. “Not your concern.”

“Oh, but she is. Just remarkable, isn’t she? Not one mate, but three. A true marvel of nature.”

“What do you want, Yalbaox?”

The demon across the line hissed at his true name. “I might ask you to remind your precious kindred that the clock is ticking, and if she ever wants to see her friend again, she will do as I asked.”

The threat nearly pushed Elias over the edge. His vision turned red as he bit out, “And what is that?”

“She knows.”

With that, he hung up, and Elias let his rage slip. The phone in his hand shattered into splintered plastic across his desk. The receiver followed similarly, finding its final resting place in four pieces in his trash can.

He returned home soon after that, holding onto the information until she was ready. Not forever. She sensed his hidden message as soon as she saw him, but when she could hear it. Not when she already looked so broken.

“I don’t like it when you look at me like that,” Sylvie mumbled, picking apart her dinner with her fingers as they sat at the dining table. He clicked his tongue and narrowed a glare at her hands.

Eat, the look said. She huffed but did, chewing slowly until the food had turned to mush and swallowed painfully. Elias got up from his dinner-time vigil and brought her water.

“Stop fussing,” she grumbled, taking the glass and downing half.

“I don’t fuss.”

Sylvie hummed, picking another piece of cooked carrot off her plate. She poked it through her teeth with a ghost of a smile. His hands itched to spank her, but she knew just as well as he did that he wouldn't interrupt when she was finally eating again.

A wave of pleasure rolled over them both, and Sylvie shuddered, quickly forking a larger bite and averting her gaze. Elias’ brow rose, and he returned to his seat, resting his elbows on the table and his chin over his clasped fists.

Her cheeks reddened, but she continued eating, her gaze not flitting to him. The phrase 'good girl' sat idly on his tongue, and a smirk curled his lip. As if she heard the praise, she lifted her chin, meeting his stare with a fire he had missed.

“What are you not telling me?” she asked lowly. Firmly.

Elias straightened and shook his head. “Later.”

“Now.”

Blood thrummed through him at her apparent defiance and her brattiness, and his mouth twitched. She wasn’t ready for him like that, yet she pushed regardless.

“Yalbaox called.”

Her eyes shuttered, the sultry teasing gone like a snuffed candle. “What did he say?”

Elias pondered his words for a moment and said, “He wants to know if you’ve done what he asked.”

Her lips moved as if to say something, but no sound came out as her mind ticked away. As if a cog clicked into place, she nodded once to herself and resumed eating, a mask of composure on her face.

It was a mask. Elias could sense it, even if she mastered concealing her emotions through the bond. Her ease in walling them out unnerved him.

“I’m guessing he’s threatening Claude too?”

When her lashes fluttered upward to regard him, he offered a curt nod, his chest tightening. She was too controlled. Too still.

“He’s desperate. Banking on controlling me with her, but he won’t hurt her.” She murmured more to herself than him. “If he did, I’d never help him get what he wants.”

“And you would do that?”

At her cool gaze, he almost withered.

“I haven't decided yet.”