Khal

Khal

It seems like Feray’s sister has finally stopped being a snapped glow stick whenever her magic flares—thank the gods for small mercies. Watching her nearly engulf the house in glitter or plants every time her power surged was exhausting, even from a distance. The look of amazement on Fi’s face when she hears about the training her sister has undergone makes it all worth it. With newfound strength, both of them can now relax, knowing the other is protected.

The mosquito seems to have mostly wrangled control of that chaotic bunch, so deep down, I wish him luck. He’ll need it. My brother and Feray’s sister are both ‘punch first, ask questions later’ types. I can almost imagine the insanity the two of them cause when left to their own devices. I almost feel bad for Dezi and Tiernan being stuck between those two. Then you toss in Revelin and his crazed fans and how territorial Fi is. It’s yet another recipe for disaster. I raise my glass at Dezi as if to say good luck. That’s basically a trifecta of sassy doom. A laugh escapes my lips from my inner musings before I go back to watching the others.

Looking at my brother, he actually looks relaxed—almost content, even. I haven’t seen him like this since we were teenagers, back before we were sorted into our jobs based on our affinities. Seeing that calm on his face makes something twist uncomfortably in my chest. But no amount of nostalgia excuses him from leaving everything for me to handle. The responsibilities don’t just vanish because he feels like partying in another realm. It’s imperative to keep things running smoothly, to maintain the facade that nothing’s changed, so no one suspects we’ve left the area.

I feel that familiar anger bubbling up again, simmering just beneath the surface. As much as I try to push it down, I can’t help the sting of feeling a little abandoned. We’re supposed to share this burden, but here I am carrying the weight alone. The bitterness leaves a sharp taste in my mouth, and I clench my fists, trying to keep that anger from boiling over. Part of me I want to keep quiet like I usually do. I’m not sure if it’s worth letting it out or not. Would things even change if I say anything?

The conversation around me fades into the background, a distant hum of voices and laughter, until my phone lights up like a chaotic elvish rave. The screen flares with notifications.

Ping … Ping … Ping …

The distinct tone I set for Khol’s side of the family business echoes sharply, each sound like a jab to my nerves. I glance over to see Khol’s phone vibrating wildly in his hand as the backlog of messages finally catches up to him. Dozens upon dozens of messages sync up with his phone. Both sides of the conversations flood his inbox. The look I give him could cut, daring him to acknowledge just how badly he’s screwed off these past few months. His eyes widen in recognition, but before he can utter a word, I raise a single finger, silencing him with an unspoken command. My focus shifts to the flood of notifications, and a low, irritated hiss slips through my lips as I dive into the mess he’s left for me to clean up.

Shaking my head, I navigate the digital chaos, sorting out the madness that decided now was the perfect time to erupt. Each message is another log on the fire of my irritation, each issue another reason to remind Khol why I hate his side of the family business. Finally, I wrangle the situation back under control, but the simmering anger inside me demands release. He stares at me as if I am a hydra with how venomous my answers are to some questions that should have been common sense.

I turn my gaze to Khol, and without hesitation, I haul off and punch his shoulder—hard. The force nearly knocks him and Rev off their seat, and the shock in his eyes is almost satisfying. Almost. “That’s for leaving everything for me to handle,” I hiss, shoving my sunglasses up to rest on top of my head. I glare at him, allowing the nictating membrane to slide over my eyes, letting my basilisk’s slits surface just enough to make him squirm. I’ve never yelled at him before. This is a first for us.

“Tony didn’t follow directions, as usual,” I begin, my voice low and dangerous. “Ed hit the wrong target and had to clean up two messes. B team was late and almost got ambushed. Your pit was overflowing with no one being questioned because they were all waiting for you.” Each word drips with the venom of my barely contained rage. I lean in close, whispering harshly, “You had to yell at them to do their bloody jobs, or you were going to skin them alive when you got back.” Every time I say ‘you,’ I jab a finger at myself, driving home just how pissed off I am.

The frustration bubbling inside me feels like a child’s tantrum, like I’ve been denied sleep, food, and someone just snatched my favorite toy. The weight of Khol’s uncharacteristic irresponsibility sits heavy on my chest, pressing down until I feel like I’m going to snap. But I don’t. I just stand there, seething, waiting for him to realize the mess he’s left for me to fix.

“You just saw…” Khol waves his phone at me, his voice tinged with desperation. He holds it up like it’s a shield that can deflect my fury. “I had no reception.”

The flimsy excuse makes my blood boil even more. He glances around, seeking support from the others in his group. But that just fuels my anger. I jab my finger in Rev’s direction, my voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “So, you’re trying to tell me not a single soul had a working phone?” I hiss, my frustration bubbling over as I fix Khol with a glare. “You didn’t think to ask to borrow his or have prince picky pants get you one?” The words sting as they leave my mouth, and I feel the familiar, hated sensation of rage rising, hot and uncontrollable.

“I…” Khol fumbles a little as he looks between his bond mates. “Sorry…” He mutters, barely audible. I never knew the burdens my brother shouldered so effortlessly. In reality, he probably needed the break.

But before my anger can spill over, Feray collides with me, her small, warm body pressing into mine. She rubs the bridge of her nose under my jaw, and the soft rumbling of her wolf reverberates through me, melting away the nuclear explosion that was about to erupt. I hate getting angry. I hate violence. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight if I have to. The thought lingers, dark and heavy, until Feray’s voice cuts through it like a knife through butter.

“It’s okay, my spicy danger noodle,” she murmurs, a smile tugging at her lips as she kisses me softly. The world narrows to just this moment, and I shift, my muscles relaxing, my anger dissolving. I hug Feray tightly, savoring the feel of her against me, her presence a lifeline that pulls me back from the edge.

But even as I hold her, my gaze remains locked on Khol, the frustration still simmering beneath the surface, though muted now. I refuse to let go of this entirely.

“So, to get back on track,” Easton’s voice breaks through, his tone a calculated distraction that draws the group’s attention away from me. “Unlike your group, we touched nothing. We walked down an ice tunnel and then woke up in the hunting field close to our cabin.”

Feray shifts in my arms, turning so her back rests against my chest, her eyes scanning the surrounding faces. “I smelled something similar to Revelin down the tunnel,” she says thoughtfully.

“Similar to me?” Revelin’s shock is tangible as he turns on my brother’s lap to look at her more directly.

“Yeah.” Feray’s nose twitches and scrunches. “It was like jasmine and patchouli, something citrusy and maybe ginger tea.” She furrows her brow, staring at Rev, her eyes taking on the faint golden glow of her wolf for a moment as she contemplates what to say next. “I don’t know what I thought when I followed it. I just knew I needed to.” She says with so much conviction.

“Maybe next time, let’s not follow random magic scents, my eternal?” Diaval’s voice is gentle, a soft chiding meant only for Feray, though it earns him odd looks from her sisters’ family.

“Okay…” Feray sighs, but there’s a warmth in her eyes as she beams up at Diaval. She pulls away from me, diving into his arms for a quick, affectionate hug before turning to Torben, who’s shaking a water bottle in her direction. She takes it with a grateful smile and settles onto a nearby stool, her presence still anchoring me even as she moves away.

“So an ice cave?” Dezi’s voice cuts through the tension, and I shift closer, pointing to the map where it all went down. His eyes narrow, that familiar pensive look settling in as his brows furrow. I’ve seen it before—same as Diaval—when they dive deep into those endless memories, trying to pull something useful from the past.

“It’s like Precious said,” I begin, my voice softening as I glance at Feray. I offer her a small smile, a reminder that we made it this far together. “We came to a fork in the tunnel. She hesitated, torn between following the migration pull or the scent.” I pause, letting the memory replay in my mind. “She opted for the scent, and here we are. Last thing I remember was this tingle, moving all over my body… then blackness.”

Feray accepts a jerky stick from Easton, her expression thoughtful as she asks, “Who would leave a random portal somewhere like that?”

It’s a valid question, one that gnaws at the edges of my thoughts. Diaval’s hand moves to his chin, stroking it as if the motion will speed up the process of sifting through his memories. “We need to figure that out, as well as why we’re all here. It can’t be a coincidence,” he murmurs, still lost in thought.

My brother is off. I can feel it in the subtle shifts of his posture, the way his eyes flicker too fast, as if he’s hiding something. It’s not like him to be this cagey, but I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off. The bonds have settled; it seems in his nest, so it’s not that.

I glance over at Feray, my heart calming the moment my eyes find her. She’s watching the others with that sharp, calculating gaze of hers, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she’s piecing together a puzzle the rest of us can’t see. She’s always been quick to pick up on the things that slip past me. Her mind, her intelligence—it’s a force of nature, and I trust her instincts as much as my own. Other than the ice cavern incident, she’s been spot on about everything else. If there’s something amiss, she’ll figure it out. She always does. But for now, she’s quiet, observing, waiting for the right moment to speak.

I take a breath, feeling the weight of the silence settle around us. The ancients in our family are still locked in their debate, dissecting how we got here, lost in their own tangled logic. But the why—that’s what matters. That’s what I need to know.

“So, where do we go from here?” I ask, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. I’m not expecting an answer right away, but the question hangs in the air, heavy and pressing, demanding to be acknowledged. It’s time to focus, to move forward, and I can’t shake the feeling that the path ahead is going to be anything but straightforward.