Kalina ~ Book Four

Nothing.

Nothing interesting.

Nothing of note.

Receipts, job applications, small meaningless scraps in every drawer.

Sylvie sighed, leaning over the desk and flicking through some manila folders. Files of each shifter in his pack held her interest for a bit longer, but all the information, from their birth certificate to their bloodlines, seemed fine.

Nothing damning at all.

She replaced the files, buried her face in her hands, and rubbed her eyes. If he were innocent like she had assumed, then she wouldn't need to tell her mates about the scent in their home. It was probably something to do with the wraith.

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. A wraith acted as a portal or a beacon for malevolence. Maybe a demon used the scent from her and spread it around.

Maybe the wraith messed with her brain, and it was all a figment of her imagination. She had felt out of sorts before Kerensa exorcised it.

She had to face that maybe her memory was unreliable, and now she had to figure out how to explain why her scent was strewn throughout Fraser's office and why the doorknob was busted open.

Shuddering, Sylvie tried one more drawer, nearly turning beet red at its suspicious devices. Still in the plastic packaging, too. But next to it was a small rock, no bigger than a robin's egg. Black glass with a faint ember inside it. She leaned further. Her arm stretched to grab it and stilled as the air in the room shifted.

“Kalina.”

Sylvie jumped up with a yelp, spinning as Fraser emerged from an alcove in the wall. Her mate marks registered alarm a moment later, and she sent them a calm energy. Hold off, she tried to tell them. Why hadn’t they warned her, though?

“Fraser.”

He tilted his head to the side, a brow raised.

“Fray,” she corrected herself in a breathless whisper.

The gold in his eyes flashed as he neared her.

“You have one sentence to explain what you’re doing here, Kalina.” She felt herself ruffle.

Or what?

She almost challenged him. Instead, she said lowly, “What does it look like?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”

“No one.”

“Liar,” he snarled a foot from her face. One more step, and he would be pressed against her. She wouldn't be incapacitated, but it could make escaping more challenging. Still, she didn't move as he stared down at her.

She opted for a kernel of truth. “After our last visit, your scent was all through my home.”

His brows shot up, genuine surprise marking his face.

“Impossible.”

“I thought so, too. I just wanted to make sure.”

He palmed his desk on either side of her, forcing her to sit on the edge. “And what did you hope to find.”

She tried to stifle the rising heat through her body, willing the blush on her face to subside. She was stronger than this. After ten years, it should’ve been impossible for a man to unruffle her. But Fraser was no man.

“Anything. Proof.”

His eyes narrowed. “Of what.”

“I don’t know.”

He growled then and pushed himself away, turning his back on her as he paced. She could sense her mates a floor below just waiting for her call.

Her mind returned to the stone in his drawer, and she turned to snatch it up. “What is this?”

It couldn't be a coincidence.

Fraser half turned, his hair draping across his eyes. “A gift.”

Her gaze hardened as she tossed it at him, half hoping it would hit the floor and crack open. Maybe a demon would burst out, and she could revel in the gotcha moment. But he caught it—Swift as a cat.

He turned it between his forefinger and thumb. “My brother saw it and thought of me.”

“Stony, dark, shiny, cold, fragile— what made him think of you?” The corner of his mouth quirked, but he answered truthfully, as far as she could tell.

“Damaged, but still holding an inner light.” He angled the stone under the chandelier above, revealing a spidering of hairline cracks across its surface.

Sylvie gritted her teeth.

Damn him.

Either he was the best liar she had ever met, or he wasn’t one. Her mates edged closer to the room still, and she pressed forward on her toes, about to make some excuse to leave when Fray said, “Did you break my door?”

Her eyes flickered to the door knob knowing the other one was hanging precariously from the outside. “Uh…”

His mouth twitched, and she blushed—damn traitorous face.

“What did Alpha Rowan give you?”

His lips parted a fraction, and she knew he sensed her deceit.

“A gift.”

“To make us allies.”

“Is that what we are?”

Sylvie repressed a shudder, a warm rush filling her chest until her heart squeezed. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but she wanted her mates closer.

“I don’t know what we are.”

He stepped nearer to her again, but this time, his steps were controlled. Smooth. And when he caged her between his body and his desk, he left no room between them. His skin brushed hers, and sparks fizzed at each point of contact.

It wasn’t a mate bond, but it sure as fuck felt like it.

“Tell me you feel this,” he rasped, his shoulders tensing as if awaiting a strike.

“I- I don’t know. What do you feel?” Sylvie edged her skin off his, but even the air between them buzzed with anticipation.

He exhaled, the light mint scent ruffling her hair, and she leaned back. Her marks tickled.

“Need,” he finally said.

“But you aren’t my mate.”

“No.”

“No.” With every word, his face dipped closer to hers and with absolute horror, she didn't pull away, didn't shove him, didn't move, and then he-

Her lids had only fluttered as if to close when Fraser was suddenly gone, halfway across the room with a pale hand clasped around his throat. Sylvie heaved a breath as Elias’ red eyes sparked over his shoulder.

She waited for a fight, a growl, a shift, but Fraser didn't stir. His eyes never left her as she leaned off the desk and palmed the front of her dress.

“Well,” Elias purred. “What do we have here?”

Rowan appeared next from the same alcove Fray had entered. A hidden elevator, maybe. A dumbwaiter even.

He prowled to her side and gripped her chin roughly, taking her by surprise. Fraser growled, her expression real enough to send his mind whirring, but Elias tutted.

“Don’t try anything, cub. First, you disappear on us and then kidnap our sweet Kalina.”

“So you didn’t plant her here to dig up my pack secrets?”

Rowan chuckled darkly, stroking her cheek with a sharp, shifted nail. “No, our dear Kalina tends to take matters into her own hands. I have no idea why she might be in here.”

True enough. Fraser observed them as Sylvie offered a nervous swallow. Demure. Meek.

Hook, line and sinker.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Fraser snarled. Still, though, he made no move towards her or out of Elias’ grip. On a second look, Sylvie realised why: the gun pressed into his kidney and Kian in the back room whispering ancient fae probably had something to do with it.

Rowan's face took on a feral glint, and he spun her against him, mirroring Elias's hold on Fraser, his hand tightly around the column of her throat. She relaxed against him, suppressing every urge to flip him and pin his ass to the ground. Half a dozen attack combinations flitted through her mind until a sharp slice across her chest drew a hiss from her lips.

Rowan was walking a fine fucking line.

Fraser agreed, his eyes flashing with fury until he spied the crimson mark on her chest. She could tell Elias' was the only one visible from the position and touch of Rowan’s fingers.

“Who?”

“Me,” Elias said low in Fraser's ear, the predatory smile enough to weaken Sylvie’s legs. What was his plan?

“And you let another beast touch what is yours?”

Sylvie had to stop herself from bristling at Fraser's ignorance and instead relaxed deeper into Rowan's heated grip.

“Does she look like a belonging, Alpha?” Kian called from the dim corner of the room, his folded arms and relaxed posture in an ancient, threadworn chair drawing a ghost of a smile on Sylvie’s lips.

“Breathe her in. Does she smell afraid?”

Fraser's chest expanded as he scented the air, his eyes flashing but offering no answer. She knew exactly what he smelled, even if he didn't understand it. All he probably knew about matebond was their sacredness. Their promise for monogamy from the fates— A perfect other half.

Fortunately, Sylvie had many sides that needed another half.

Rowan's free hand curled around her belly like a winding snake and slid to her pelvis, making her rock involuntarily.

“What are you doing?” Fraser's voice came out strangled, not because of the hand clasping his throat. No, from where Sylvie was, it seemed like Elias barely had a grip on him.

Rowan's hand crept ever closer to her throbbing core but bypassed it, sliding down her thigh and ruffling the bottom of her dress.

What was he up to? When the fabric of her dress lifted, she twisted, trying to catch his eye, but the grip on her throat didn't lessen.

“Elias,” she warned, but even as her underwear peaked from beneath her clothes and she flashed everyone across the room, heat flamed her desire.

“Don’t fret, kitten. Your companion here likes to watch. Don’t you?”

Fraser's jaw set, the muscle jumping in his cheek.

“Is that why you hid in the shadows as she bent over your desk.”

Sylvie stilled as Rowan's fingers slipped along her waistband. How did he know that?

“You liked seeing her body under that dress, didn't you, cub.”

Fraser snarled that time, but the gun digging into his ribs drew a wince.

“Answer me,” Elias said into his ear, his red iris’ glued to Sylvie.

“Yes,” Fraser hissed.

A burning shame dancing with lust filled her, and she shivered under Rowan's grip. His deft touch teased her clit, sliding past each time closer and closer until she almost growled at him. All eyes were on her, all shining with primal desire.

She closed her eyes, but Rowan's rumbling chest made them flutter open again, half-lidded. He wanted her to stay open, not shut herself off to the others. To her mates and their visitor.

Fraser shuddered as Rowan's finger plunged inside her, forcing a soft moan from her lips, and for a moment, Sylvie wondered if he would shift right then and kill them all. The strain in his pants caught her eye before she quickly averted her gaze, meeting Elias’.

“Don’t look at me, kitten. Look at him.”

Her heart stammered in her chest. His permission nearly sent her spiralling into climax.

When she did, though, her pleasure seized. He looked pained, the haunted look in his eyes returning from weeks ago with the police.

“Fray?” she rasped, shuddering as her inner muscles gripped Rowan's finger.

Fraser followed every movement, his lips parting just enough to rasp back, “Yeah?”

“Do you want this to stop?”

She was a freak, but consent meant everything to her and with one word. With one word from him, she would take control away from Elias or get spanked trying.

He swallowed repeatedly, the gun leaving his side and the hand around his throat dropping away until he stood alone. Elias leaned back and crossed his arms. Despite the posture, Sylvie knew he was coiled like a copper spring, ready to launch if Fray tried anything.

She exhaled sharply as Rowan's fingers slipped from her body.

“Fray?”

“No.”