Kalina ~ Book Four

The days moved slowly; by Friday, Sylvie didn’t know if she even wanted to attend the mixer. The week's drag only motivated her to climb into bed and sleep for forty-eight hours.

“Here, these are your options.” Rosie held up three unbearably beautiful gowns, each in a hue that perfectly complemented her skin tone. She thanked her and darted into the house to try them all while her mates eagerly waited in the lounge.

After a bit of deliberation, Sylvie picked a cobalt A-line gown that perfectly covered her mate bonds with a high neckline and was embroidered with hundreds of iridescent wildflowers. The long sleeves cuffed daintily at her wrist, and the tulle fabric of the shirt thinned to show off her legs.

Rowan nearly passed out when he saw her in it for the first time, his mouth gaping as she gave him a little spin. He was the one who called Elias and Kian in, who gave equally ego-boosting responses.

“I don’t know if we should pretend you’re mateless after all,” Elias said. “Will there be dancing at this mixer?”

“I’d imagine so,” Kian breathed, nearing and trailing a finger across her exposed collar bones.

She shivered and wrinkled her nose at them. “Is it too much?”

“No,” Rowan growled, cutting off both replies from her husbands. “It’s perfect.”

“If someone touches her,” Elias started, but she cut him off with a sharp look that would probably earn her a spanking later.

“I’m going to be undercover. Maybe mingling is the way I can get the dirt, if there is any.”

Rowan agreed immediately, and Kian was soon after. Elias took a bit more defrosting.

“Elias.” Sylvie pressed up on her toes and thumbed invisible lint on his collar, letting her fingers scrape across his neck.

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

He looked at her sharply. “Yes.”

“Then this is what I’m wearing. No weird possessive male shit at the party.”

His lips parted as a smile crept up hers, and she flounced away behind the bed, using it like a shield.

“You mistake me after all these years, kitten?”

She swallowed as his icy iris tinged red.

“No.”

“I know how to share.” He prowled forward, making her shudder in anticipation. Of course, he did; sharing was the foundation of their relationship.

But he kept approaching. “As long as the one I share knows she is mine where it counts.” He scooped her up and pressed her between his body and the bedroom wall, making her giggle into the back of her hand.

“You’re gonna ruin the dress!”

He winked at her and lowered her to the ground, getting one bruising kiss before she turned in for the night.

Saturday was upon them faster than expected, and every unmated male and female in the pack was dressed to the nines. Rosie helped Claudine and Sylvie with makeup while Sylvie did everyone's hair with her insanely expensive curler that she bought with Elias’ money, as usual.

The drive was two hours, so by four o’clock, everyone lined up at the edge of the wards and climbed in a dozen stretched hummerzines they hired from the city. With over thirty highly-trained mated couples remaining behind, Sylvie and Rowan had no doubt the pack would stay safe inside Kian’s specialised wards.

Elias drove at the front of the convoy with Rowan and Kian in shotgun while Sylvie sat in the back nervously chatting with Claudine.

The plan was simple. Mingle. Act normal. Keep her ear to the ground and no alcohol.

Everyone had already been ordered to refer to her as Kalina and not divulge any information about her three mate bonds, the division or her history, so she was ready, even if her palms sweated.

She didn't know these shifters, their Alpha or what they wanted. So far, all she had learned about the supernatural was that almost everyone had ulterior motives, and most didn't benefit Sylvie.

Just this once, she hoped for a stress-free, fight-free night. Maybe gain an ally or two and go home with all her friends and mates intact.

When the forest turned to a golden desert, Sylvie leaned against the glass and stared. She’d never seen so much open space.

“Nowhere to hide,” she whispered. It reminded her of the falls where she escaped with the shifters in Argyncia. All it needed was a fishbowl canyon and a waterfall, and it would probably trigger an anxiety attack.

“Almost there,” Kian said quietly to himself.

Sylvie leaned forward and poked her head between Elias and Rowan, trying to see anything beyond the desert. They passed a few small towns, but each was a blink-and-you-miss-it ordeal. Even more so than Sagehill.

“It’s an old auxiliary hospital from one of the World Wars,” Rowan spoke quietly, too, as if his words might disturb the ghosts of the land.

“Why are we whispering?” Sylvie whispered.

Elias’ jaw twitched, and he turned a fraction to kiss the juncture between her jaw and earlobe. She shivered and shook her head at him with a smile.

“Eyes on the road.”

“Not much to see,” Rowan commented, kissing the opposite side of her neck.

Kian clicked his tongue and reached behind the headrest, speaking a simple warding over her. “Stop getting your scent on her, or this won’t work.”

“Sorry,” Sylvie slipped and sat back, biting her lower lip as Kian's twinkling purple eyes narrowed on her.

A few minutes later, a silver chainlink fence appeared on the horizon with thick steel gates blocking the road. Elias pulled over and wound down his window.

“Here for Alpha Fraser Young.”

“Who are you talking-”

Four shifters materialised from behind the gate kitted out with weapons, knives strapped around their leg, a semiautomatic in their arms and flash grenades dangling from their hips.

Without a word, they pulled open the gates and stood to the side as Elias slowly led the convoy through. As they passed, Sylvie stared out the back window and gasped when one of the shifters lunged for the second to last hummerzine.

Rowan blinked. “He found his mate. He’s with us now.” The shifter climbed in the vehicle, and they continued on their way through the gate.

Claudine shifted in her black gown, the thigh-high slit only just concealing her weapons—a shuriken laced with sea holly. The plant was far more potent for shifters than any other species. Even a small cut would make their mind spiralling into delirium.

Sylvie herself had six pencil-shaped daggers hidden in the seams of her bodice. Not exactly easy to access, but in a pinch, it would be better than her bare hands against a shifter.

On the horizon, a concrete structure rose from the ground, its ancient moss-coated red brick looking more like a castle than an old hospital. Lit up by flaming torches, the cracked gargoyles smiled down at them from their perch on the roof edge.

Sylvie swallowed. The place was a fortress. She sought exits and found none besides the Arched windows and the gaping black hole of a front door.

“I’ll go in first,” Rowan spoke carefully, straightening the crisp white shirt beneath his midnight black suit jacket.

A round water feature and a lone tree sat in front of the building, and Elias drove around it, parking up and climbing out, opening the door for the passengers.

Despite their usual easygoing attitude, everyone held an air of waryness as they piled out. No one spoke, and Sylvie buried herself in the crowd, staying well away from her mates at the front of the line.

Once every shifter was ready, they headed for the front door, and a shifter padded out, his well-polished dress shoes tapping pleasantly on the bricked landing. His shaggy golden hair fell annoyingly perfect atop his deep purple suit as he regarded everyone.

Objectively and purely objectively, he was breathtaking in his beauty. Sylvie dropped her gaze and frowned at her thoughts. What was up with her?

“Welcome, everyone.” His eyes flickered from Rowan to someone far behind Sylvie. “I see we’ve already had a successful mateship. We’ll keep the weapons, though, Rus. If that’s alright with your new Alpha.”

Rowan nodded and stepped up, shaking the man’s hand. “Good to finally meet you, Alpha Young-”

“Please,” he waved him off with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Call me Fraser.” He clasped his giant hands in front of himself and turned side-on. “Your mate could not attend?”

“No,” Rowan said smoothly, turning and mirroring Fraser's pose. “She is disappointed she couldn’t be here, but the pack comes first.”

Fraser nodded and glanced at Kian and Elias, who stood in front of the rest of the shifters.

“I have brought my pack Fae to ward your home.”

“And the vampire?” Fraser narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, and Elias shook his hand.

“Friend of a friend.”

“Odd company for a shifter, but I’ve seen stranger things.”

Kian nodded, beelining for the hospital walls, and Fraser breezed past her other mates. “I will show you the way. Alpha Hex, you are all welcome to head in. I think the pack have already started the partying in the hall. Last door on the left.”

Kian glanced back at Rowan. “I’ll meet you in there.”

Rowan nodded curtly, and the shifters moved in unison. Only Sylvie staggered in the crowd before righting herself. Damned mindlink. It was the one thing she always missed about not having a lycan form anymore.

Their footsteps echoed through the concrete space. Sylvie shivered as the cold air rustled through her curled hair. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but with everything else in her life, it would be the least weird thing.

“You good,” Claudine muttered quietly, brushing shoulders with her.

“Fine,” she replied, peering through each door they passed—bedrooms or hallways to more bedrooms. The place was littered with belongings, and she doubted she’d be able to sneak away to find anything interesting in a few hours.

Fraser's office, for one. He might not have even had one.

The old hospital looked more like a hostel. It was definitely lived in, but Sylvie found herself smiling at the fact. Her pack evolved from the more campfire living to accommodate all the new babies, but she almost missed the closeness a single living area brought. Sleeping under the stars around the fire.

Her eyes started burning from the memory, and she dropped it, instead focusing on the last door on the left. It all could be a trap. She was prepared for the fact, but it would still lead to losses. Losses she didn't even want to imagine. But, the pumping bass music that shot up her legs and beat to the rhythm of her heart eased her nerves.

Rowan opened the door and stepped inside, a few squeals setting Sylvie on edge. Maybe she needed not to be the jealous one. The shifters piled into the room, and Sylvie fell to the back with Claudine.

“No distractions and no booze,” Claudine said as they reached the doorway. “Or drugs,” she added at the last second.

That would be no problem for Sylvie. She wasn’t one to dabble, and Kerensa’s gala was far too recent for her to experiment again. She needed a clear head. She needed to focus. She needed to-

“Mate,” Claudine hissed at her side, her teal eyes locked on an inky-haired shifter across the room.

His eyes trailed down her body, and his eyes turned from a dark shade to gold. “Mine.”

“So much for no distractions,” Sylvie muttered, but when Claudine looked at her for approval, Sylvie swiftly gave it. “Go to him. I’ll be okay.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears as Claudine tried to hold herself back before finally throwing herself into the arms of the tall, handsome stranger. They broke into animated conversation, and Sylvie sniffled. “So cute. Congratulations Claudine.”

Even from their distance, she could see Claudine beaming along with the other shifters who found their mates.

Rosie and half a dozen others hung back as the unpaired shifters dwindled. Sylvie edged closer to them and kept her voice soft.

“I’m sorry.” She squeezed Rosie's hand and moved to the others, giving each of them a reassuring nod. “We’ll find them, okay, if it's the last thing I do.”

The unmated shifters smiled back, albeit sadly and made their way through the bustling crowd to mingle with the remaining unmated shifters. They didn't have their mates yet, but they weren't dead. Sylvie always loved the fact her people weren't fiercely territorial. They were accepting of the pasts of their mates and loved them completely anyway. No matter what.

Sylvie picked out her mates coasting along the far corners of the dimly lit room and swayed to a cleared-away area intended to be a dancefloor. It wasn’t the greatest method for finding information, but it was more discreet than standing around eavesdropping.

“-you think you’ll come back to Alpha Rowan’s pack?”

“Would you consider Alpha Frasers?”

“I would.”

“Our packs are close.”

“Maybe we should do a tour.”

Most of the mated pairs' conversations carried on the same way, and Sylvie’s heart ached. How many shifters would her pack lose to be with their mate? What about Claudine? Surely, she would come back, considering all her friends were with Rowan's pack.

She spun and closed her eyes as the music boomed through the room. Just this once, before all the sadness hit, she would feel happiness for her friend and dance.

Something didn’t take long to snag the bottom of her dress and send her flying to the ground. Strangely, though, the frigid concrete never met with her knees. Instead, a soft, skin-tingling grip cupping her elbows lifted her back to full height.

Goddammit, nothing good happened when she danced. Not once. With all the calm she could muster, she raised her head to behold him.

Alpha Fraser.