Chapter 193

The celebration was a trap. I knew it the moment the invitation arrived, delivered by one of Khemari’s sea lion guards with a bow that mocked respect while his eyes mocked everything else.

"He calls it a ’gathering of tribes,’" Mirena explained, her voice tight with worry as she sat in my home, the invitation clutched in her hands. "A mate selection, he says. For the males who traveled with him. To strengthen alliances, to build connections."

"But it’s not," I said, my voice flat. I did not need to make it a question.

"No," she agreed, her dark eyes meeting mine. "It’s for you. Everything he does now is for you. He wants you to see him as a leader, as a provider, as... as an option. He wants you to accept him."

I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "That will never happen."

"I know," Mirena said. "But Darius has approved the gathering. To refuse would be an insult. To accept..." she hesitated. "Perhaps if you go, if you are polite but distant, it will soften the situation. Show him that you are not afraid, that you cannot be intimidated. Sometimes, Krys, showing strength is the only way to survive."

I did not want to go. Every instinct screamed at me to stay away, to hide in the lagoon with Caelion and the Pearlings, to pretend the world outside did not exist. But I knew she was right. To hide would be to show fear. To show fear would be to invite pursuit.

"Fine," I said, my voice heavy. "I will go."

Caelion could not come, of course. The Pearlings were only two months old, utterly dependent on him, unable to survive more than minutes without his warmth, his guidance, his presence. He stayed in the lagoon, his worry reaching me through our bond like a constant, anxious hum.

Soryn stayed behind as well. The serpent children, the coilings as we affectionately called them, had fallen ill one after another, a fever spreading through them like wildfire. Syren first, then Vaelis, then little Elira, burning with heat, their small bodies trembling. Soryn would not leave them, and Aureon stayed to help, his tiger strength needed to hold the thrashing children, his cool hands soothing their fevered brows.

So I went with Ravin and Leon, my first mates, my protectors. The four oldest cubs went to play with their friends, too old to be confined, too young to understand the danger. But Levy, Niku, and Sikai stayed close, within Leon’s sight at all times, their small hands finding mine whenever the crowd pressed too close.

The celebration was held on the wide beach where the sea met the sand, torches burning bright against the falling night. Khemari had spared no expense. Tables groaned with food, with roasted meats and fresh fruits and breads that smelled of honey and yeast. And everywhere, there were other beast folks. Beast folk from Khemari’s territory, sea lions in their man form, predators and warriors and those seeking mates.

I stayed near Mirena and Rhonda, my anchors in this storm, my walls against Khemari’s gaze. He watched me from across the fire, his golden eyes burning, his smile never reaching his face as he spoke to this one and that one, playing the gracious host while his eyes devoured me.

"Drink," Mirena said, pressing a cup of cool water into my hands. "You look flushed. The heat..."

I took it gratefully, my throat dry, my heart hammering. I did not see Khemari move. I did not see his servant approach. But suddenly there was a new cup in front of me, offered with a bow, a concoction that smelled of flowers and something else, something sweet and dark.

"For the lady," the servant said, his eyes downcast. "A special brew. From the southern territories. To cool the blood and calm the spirit."

I hesitated, the cup halfway to my lips. Something felt wrong. The smell, too sweet, too heavy. The way the liquid clung to the sides of the cup, thicker than water, than wine.

"Krys, don’t," Rhonda said suddenly, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Something is off about..."

But before she could finish, before I could set the cup down, Eryx was there.

He had been watching from the edges of the gathering, as he always did, my silent guardian, my shadow even though I never wanted him to be any of that. He moved faster than I could follow, his hand closing over mine, taking the cup from my fingers.

"I will taste it first," he said, his voice loud enough to carry, a smile on his face that did not reach his eyes. "To ensure it is worthy of our host’s intended."

He drank it in one swallow before I could stop him, before anyone could stop him, his throat working, his eyes meeting mine over the rim of the cup with a look that said run, that said danger, that said I am sorry.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then everything happened at once.

Eryx’s face flushed, deep crimson spreading from his neck to his hairline. His pupils dilated, black swallowing amber, and he swayed, his hand reaching out to grip my shoulder with fingers that burned like fire.

"Eryx?" I whispered, terror clawing at my throat.

"Get me out," he gasped, his voice rough, distorted. "Krys, please. Get me out. Now."

He was burning. I could feel it through his hand, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. His heart hammered against his ribs, visible beneath his shirt, rapid and irregular. He swayed again, and I caught him, his weight suddenly too much for me.

"Ravin!" I cried. "Leon! Help me!"

They were there in an instant, their faces grim as they saw Eryx, saw his condition, understood without words that something was terribly wrong.

"What did you give him?" Leon roared at the servant, who had already melted into the crowd, who was already gone.

But I knew. I knew as I felt Eryx’s heat, as I saw his eyes, glazed and unfocused, as I smelled the sweetness on his breath. He was poison.

"Veyrath. Sometime known as Heatroot. Or a Fool’s Desire." Ravin growled.

"He took it for me," I choked out, my arms around Eryx, feeling him tremble, feeling his body react to the drug that had been meant for me. "He took it. We need to get him home. Now."

Khemari appeared then, his face a mask of false concern, false innocence. "Is he ill? My healer could..."

"No," I snarled, my fury finally breaking free, my protective instincts screaming to life. "You stay away from him. You stay away from all of us."

"Why so hostile?" Khemari asked, his voice dripping with mock hurt, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. He smirked, that terrible, beautiful smile that made my skin crawl. "You make it seem like I did something. I was only trying to help."

"I don’t need your help," I spat, my voice shaking with rage, with the knowledge of what he had tried to do, what he had almost succeeded in doing. "I don’t want anything from you. Not now. Not ever."

Khemari’s smile widened, his eyes burning into mine with a promise that made my blood run cold. "We shall see," he murmured, his voice carrying only to me, intimate and threatening. "We shall see, lovely Krys."

I turned away, dismissing him, focusing on Eryx, on saving him, on getting him out of this place before Khemari could do more damage.

I could not cure him here. Not in front of Khemari, not in front of all these eyes. The cure required intimacy, required touch, required me to use the bond in ways that would expose too much, reveal too much, endanger too much.

We took him home, Leon and Ravin carrying him between them, his body growing heavier, hotter, his breath coming in gasps. Levy ran ahead, her face white with fear. Niku and Sikai flanked us, their small bodies rigid with worry.

By the time we reached our home, Eryx was delirious. He thrashed in their grip, his skin flushed nearly purple, his eyes wild, unseeing. The false rut had taken him completely, his body reacting to the drug with violent intensity, his mind lost in the haze of chemical desire.

"Put him in my room," I ordered, my voice steady despite my terror. "Everyone else, out. I need to cure him."

They laid him on the bed, his body arching, a groan tearing from his throat that was pure agony. I sent the children away, sent Leon and Ravin to guard the door, and closed the curtains, plunging the room into shadow.

I approached the bed, my hands trembling. The cure was simple in theory. I just needed to push the healing tide into him.

But as I reached for him, as my hand touched his fevered brow, his eyes snapped open. Focused. Saw me.

"Krys," he whispered, his voice rough, broken, but clear. The drug had loosened his tongue, stripped away his guards, his shyness, his restraint. "Krys, please."

"Hush," I said, my voice gentle, soothing. "I am here. I will cure you. Just hold still."

"No," he said, his hand shooting out, gripping my wrist with strength that surprised me, that would bruise. "No, listen. Please. I need you to know. I need you to hear."

"Eryx, we don’t have time. The drug..."

"Forget the drugs right now," he said, his eyes burning into mine, silver and full of desperate, naked honesty. "I need to tell you what I’ve been so afraid to say. Krys, I love you. I have loved you since before I knew what love was. I have loved you through Veylan, through Leon, through all of them. I have watched you, wanted you, needed you, and I have said nothing because I was afraid. Because I am your mate’s brother. Because I had no right."

He was shaking, his body fighting the drug and his own confession, his grip on my wrist painful, desperate.

"Take me," he begged, his voice breaking. "Make me your mate. Please. I will die if you don’t. I will die loving you, wanting you, needing you. Please, Krys. Please."

I stared at him, frozen, my heart hammering against my ribs, my mind reeling. He loved me. He had always loved me. The shyness, the hesitation, the moment on the beach when we had fallen together, it had all been love, restrained and hidden and desperate.

And now he was dying, the drug burning through him, and he was begging me with his last clear moments to love him back.

"Eryx," I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks. "I..."

"Please," he said again, his voice fading, his eyes glazing. "Please, Krys. I love you. I have always loved you."

I pushed the thoughts aside. I pushed the confession, the temptation, the impossible choice, and I focused on saving him. I placed my hands on his chest, over his heart, and I reached for the white bond the healing tide, and I pushed.

He arched beneath me, a cry tearing from his throat, and then he collapsed, gasping, his body cooling, his heart slowing, his eyes clearing.

I held him as the drug left him, as consciousness returned, as the fever broke and left him trembling and weak in my arms.

And then the silence stretched between us, heavy with everything he had said, everything I now knew.

"Krys," he whispered, his voice small, mortified. "I... I said... oh gods, what did I say?"

I did not answer. I could not answer. I was too conflicted, too torn, my heart breaking and mending and breaking again.

He had saved my life. Again. He had taken poison meant for me, knowing what it would do, knowing the cost. He loved me. And he had never asked for anything in return, never pushed, never demanded, only guarded and protected and waited.

Should I take him as a mate? Could I? After everything, after all the mates I already had, after the chaos and the love and the family we had built, could I add one more?

What would they think? Leon, Ravin, Veylan, Soryn, Aureon, Caelion. Six men who loved me, who shared me, who had accepted this strange, impossible arrangement. Would they accept a seventh? Would they understand that Eryx was not new, not sudden, but had been there all along, waiting, loving, hoping?

I had not planned for more mates after Aureon. I had thought six was enough, was more than enough, was everything I could ever need. But Eryx was not a stranger. He was family. He was already part of us. And now I knew he loved me, truly loved me, and I did not know what to do.

"Krys," he said again, his voice breaking. "Please. I am sorry. I did not mean to burden you. I did not mean to... please, forget what I said. It was the drug. It was not real."

But it was real. I knew it was real. The drug only revealed what was already there, only loosened the tongue to speak truths already held in the heart.

I looked at him, at his beautiful, embarrassed, loving face, and I felt my heart crack open, and I did not know if I was strong enough to hold him, or wise enough to let him go.

"I need time," I whispered. "Eryx, I need time."

He nodded, his eyes swimming with tears, his face flushed with shame. "Take all the time you need," he said. "I will wait. I have always waited."

And as I left him there, trembling and cured and broken by his own honesty, I knew that whatever choice I made, whatever path I took, nothing would ever be the same again.