Kalina ~ Book Four

Sylvie prepped dinner that night with a growing sense of foreboding. Her nerves frayed as the time went on.

She texted Rowan and Kian a few times with no answer, but with her mate marks remaining unphased by the distance, all she could assume was it was some of her own anxiety.

Elias hadn’t called her either, so she took that as a sign that either shit had utterly hit the fan at his work, or she was fine enough not to be concerned about.

“Hey, Vee-”

Sylvie jumped and spun from her counter to face the voice. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, Rosie.”

She hadn’t even heard the door open, but sure enough, it was closed and locked over Rosie's shoulder. Had she really been so distracted?

“Yeah, I just thought I should come over.”

Sylvie nodded. “Yeah. I was meant to invite you over, but I forgot. I just got so busy with Bea and the first shift prep-”

“It’s fine, Vee.”

But Rosie’s voice was anything but fine.

Right, she was still upset about the mate’s stuff. Sylvie took the pasta off the boil and drained it before adding a homemade, hand-grown-basil pesto.

“Will you have dinner with me?”

Rosie shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’ll just take some dinner to Bea, and I’ll be back.”

She didn’t stop to look at Rosie’s expression as she bounded from the house with a steaming bowl of pasta.

“Thank you,” Bea said, her deep voice far clearer than it had been in the morning, and Sylvie smiled.

“You’re welcome, Bea. See you in the morning.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

In the morning, she’d have to take advantage of Bea’s reclaimed voice, figure out her full name and find her family.

When she returned to the main house, Rosie had set up the dining table with two placemats, cup coasters and a tall lit candle in the middle.

Sylvie laughed softly. “So romantic,” she hummed, returning Rosie's smile from the counter as she served equal portions into two bowls.

“I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure if you preferred to eat on plates or bowls.”

Sylvie waved a hand, picking up a bottle of Rosé from the wine cooler. “Bowls are perfect. You want some wine?”

“Just a nip,” Rosie said, carrying their bowls to the table. They ate and drank in relative silence until the sun dipped under the horizon, and the stub of a candle between them died out.

“Elias should be home by now,” Sylvie muttered to herself. She tried to fight the growing panic, but he never went that long without at least a text.

Rosie straightened, her brows furrowing with concern. “Where are your mates?”

“Rowan didn’t say?” Sylvie questioned, swirling the last dregs of her wine in the bottom of her glass.

Rosie shook her head. “And I’ve felt the weirdest disconnect from him all afternoon like he doesn’t want to be contacted.”

So that was why she was acting weird, not the mates thing. Sylvie felt stupid.

“Fraser’s pack had some trouble with the humans again, and Kian and Rowan went to help. The last thing he said was humans had come and hung up.”

Rosie’s face scrunched more as Sylvie spoke.

“And Elias had to fix some issues with his business.”

Rosie’s head tilted to the side.

“What?” Sylvie asked, her gut churning. Rosie was always perceptive, recognising things far quicker than the other shifters.

Her mouth twitched, and she stood, carrying her dishes to the kitchen sink. Sylvie followed suit, desperate for information.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing- yet.”

“Rosie.”

The space between them grew cold, and Sylvie paused. “I’m sorry. I-” She took a soothing breath and spoke her mind. “What’s going on?” Her heart thundered loud enough that she feared Rosie would hear it. “With us.”

Rosie’s back tensed for a moment, and it seemed like she wouldn’t answer, but she turned slowly, hands propping herself on the counter.

“I-” her voice cracked, and she cleared it, the pain in Sylvie’s heart along with the speed of it growing with each passing second.

“It’s not you. Not really, I don’t think.” She looked down.

Sylvie’s hands grew clammy as she leaned on the centre island, one hand planted on its surface as if the earth were about to give way.

Maybe it was.

“You will always be my Alpha, and I will always love you-”

There was a but coming, and Sylvie’s eyes burned.

“But-”

Oh god.

“But after the mixer, there’s just something in me that’s hurting.”

“I know, and-”

“Let me finish,” Rosie rasped, tears already pooling along her waterline.

Sylvie nodded, inhaling sharply. It was suddenly so hard to draw breath. So hard. It felt like she was getting broken up with, but so much worse. She palmed her stomach as the dinner she ate prepared to return earthside.

“I know I can’t blame you, but seeing you with everything is hard. I- I’m not saying I want your life. I’m saying…” She hyperventilated before regaining composure. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I think I’m just gonna take some time. Some- some space f-f-from you.”

Sylvie just stared, mouth opening and closing, not sure what to say. Not sure if saying anything would be wise. She shivered and moved her sweaty hand over her pounding heart. Her breaking heart.

“Okay,” she finally croaked, turning as a fat tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away and inhaled a shaky breath. Returning to the table, she cleared up the last of the dishes and carried them to the counter.

“Okay,” she repeated. Her brain was short-circuiting. She cleared her throat and searched for something— anything to show support. It wasn’t about her. It was about Rosie. Her beautiful friend Rosie was hurting because of her.

With more bravery and grace than she felt, she said, “Take all the time you need, and when you’re ready, I’ll do anything to help you find your mate.”

Rosie swallowed, her cheeks a bright pink. “How?” she asked, lip wobbling.

“I could write to all the packs; Kian could help me find them... I could invite them here.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, Rosie.”

More tears rolled down her pink cheeks. “I think I jumped the gun-” she whimpered with a weak laugh. Sylvie returned the sound and crossed the space between them, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Rosie. I promise, as soon as Kian gets back, I’ll start looking for the shifters.”

“Thank you.”

They pulled apart, and Sylvie walked her to the door. She wanted to ask her to stay if she wanted, but Rosie had already made the excuse she had to be up early for the nursery.

“You make me feel lazy, giving my kids the week off.” The laugh was genuine but strained as Rosie wavered on the front porch.

“You already did the hard part. Now you get to reap the rewards of your children becoming adults.”

Crickets quieted their chirrups as Sylvie sighed. “I’m shit scared, Rose.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “What if they change?”

Rosie exhaled a laugh and shook her head. “That’s the point.”

Sylvie bit her lip against a sad smile and rubbed her arms against the chill of the night. Moths darted into the porch light, and she tugged the front door shut to stop them from venturing inside.

“I know it’s silly, but what if after they shift, they won’t need me anymore.”

The space between them seemed to grow further apart, and Sylvie regretted saying anything until Rosie finally whispered, “You’re our Alpha, Sylvie. We’ll need you no matter what. Just like I need you. Just like Claudine. Amira. Your mates. Everyone.”

With that, Rosie offered one last sad smile and padded down the steps and into the darkness towards the pinpricks of light that led home.

Rowan’s beast ripped the head off the last officer and threw it at Fraser’s feet.

The Lion Alpha had refused to shift but caused plenty of damage in his skin form regardless. He would be a formidable opponent in the central cut back home, but Sylvie might not like that.

Or maybe she would.

Her tastes had changed as of late, and the thought almost had him purring. With a shake of his head, Rowan shifted back, drenched in blood, as Fraser tossed a pair of shorts at him.

After regaining some modesty, he raked his gaze across the bloodied landscape. No shifters had been taken down by the human’s weapons, but three were wounded.

Fraser’s healers gently carried the two fox shifters and lioness inside past Kian, who hunched against the door frame, his skin a sickly hue and eyes too heavy to open.

“What the fuck was that?” Fraser finally said, gesturing for his pack to go inside and clean up. Kian’s wards would give them time to dispose of the bodies and the vehicles, but soon, the town would wonder where all those people went.

Rowan hoped the wards were enough to turn anyone who ventured too close to the land away.

“They attacked.”

“I don’t understand. I saw them leaving. What changed?”

Rowan shook his head and climbed up the steps, kneeling beside Kian. He pulled him into his arms and pressed his forehead against Kian’s temple.

Fuck what Fraser thought, he said, “Take some energy from me.”

Kian groaned, but when Rowan squeezed him in warning, he relented and pulled some of Rowan’s power into himself, lessening the ashen hue of his skin. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Kian grunted and sat up on his own, squinting at the dead officers. “Something isn’t right here.”

“Compulsion?” Rowan asked, dropping his hands into his lap. Fraser blinked.

“You think Vampires did this? But why? Why would they target my people if they hate you?”

Kian sighed and leaned his head into the door jam. He was done explaining, and Rowan wasn’t ready to reveal his hand to Fraser.

“It’s complicated.”

Fraser grunted. “Heard that one before.”

“This time, it’s true." Rowan refrained from listing their atrocities on his fingers as he said, "They kidnapped our people, used them as feed, as protection, as collateral, and we killed some of them. It’s a war of the species. You happen to be the same species if you hadn’t noticed.”

Kian clicked his tongue at Rowan, and Fraser pressed his lips in a thin line.

“Clean this shit up and leave.”

“We need time to heal.”

“You have until morning.”

“Fine.”

Fraser stormed past as Rowan stood, dragging Kian to their room and returning to the crime scene.

Anger filled him as the last moments of his conversation with Fraser replayed in his mind. The partnership between their packs was tenuous at best, and this could be the downfall of them all.

The downfall of his mate.

He’d need another way to promise Fraser’s commitment to his pack. To Sylvie. And he knew just the way to do it.

Hours later, when Rowan lay in his bed formulating a plan as the almost full moon shone a white glow through the room’s gauzy curtains, his heart suddenly spiked in his chest.

He palmed his mark, a wave of fear hitting him right before the agonising bite of pain across his throat.

Kian jerked from sleep, a scream on his lips and a hand on his neck as the realisation blossomed. His mark flickered, and the link joining them all faltered as an invisible wound crept above his collar bones.

Something was wrong.

Sylvie.