Page 44 of Interion

“What’s the meaning of this?” Zion hissed through his teeth. He didn’t dare move—perhaps from fear, or simply hatred. The claws pressed for several more seconds, scratching, forcing, pushing his barrier to its limit. It was a massive assault, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, they vanished, leaving only the marks of invasion behind. A drop of sweat ran down his temple from the effort of keeping the barrier under control. The man smiled.

“I’m just testing how well you’ve built your barrier. Seems you’ve reached a new level.” He stayed where he was, placing his arms behind his head like a pillow. “You’re becoming more and more like your mother. I’d even say you’ve surpassed her.”

Zion turned to face the man, knowing he couldn’t afford a conflict—his mind was still using too much energy to suppress the bond. But when the man spoke of his mother, it brought out the worst in him.

“Too bad I never had the chance to know her.”

He saw the pained look cross the other man’s face, and before they could start a fight that would certainly put all of Interion on high alert, he disappeared into the shadows of the curtain, reappearing moments later in the living room.

“Consider yourself warned about the girl. Get too close and I’ll make her mind a marvelous event,” Zion heard the psychic voice say, even from afar.

The general ignored it. Unlike Kyller, who had learned to pretend, he had learned to ignore.

The enormous chimera was sprawled across the sofa and wagged her reptilian tail in greeting. He felt her cheerful welcoming thoughts, and some of his anger dissipated like smoke. He tossed the book onto the table with a thud and sat down beside the beast. He studied the volume and opened to the first pages, trying to understand what exactly he was dealing with. All the pages were blank.

He sighed, finally understanding what the psychic had meant: this was a magic book, and the words would only appear if he gave some of his gift in exchange. He’d seen a few of these when he was small. The king liked to record his profits and secret dealings in books like this. He closed the volume and placed his palm over the image on the cover, but unlike the king’s books, this one didn’t react. It remained as dead and black as it had always been. Zion huffed and slammed it shut with enough force to shake the flower vase beside it. He remembered the man saying the pages had preferences about their readers, which meant he obviously wasn’t a chosen one.

Beside him, Kiara raised her head in protest.

“The female is sleeping. Could you make less of a scene?”

“Sorry,” the general whispered. “Today was difficult.” He couldn’t share his problems with anyone, and this was yet another of his countless burdens, but the chimera was always willing to listen in exchange for some belly rubs. “I’m trying to adapt to this new dynamic, but today was really complicated.”

Absentmindedly, he stroked the animal’s furry belly. The chimera had been both witness and accomplice to his nightly invasions. During all the years he’d stayed away, Zion had been watching his partner through the animal’s eyes. If he was being honest, not just through the animal. Besides their incredible physical power, chimeras could maintain a psychic bond with their owners, but this only happened once, and the bond was normally formed with the first person they felt affection for—which in this case was Zion. So all he had to do was pull on that bond to watch everything through her eyes. It was like having a walking camera around the house, and that’s how he’d watched Kyller day and night, though she never even suspected.

His eyes traveled around the room, landing on the sideboard near the stairs—more specifically, on the white picture frame sitting on the mirrored surface. He got up and walked over to it, holding the frame carefully. The crack had been glued, and Kyller had even replaced the cracked glass. The photo remained as it always had been, and for a moment he allowed himself to think about the past. Involuntarily, his fingers traced the outline of Akira’s face, and that old pain flooded his chest. It was thick, heavy, and often filled his tongue with a bitter taste.

“You look like a freshly weaned pup. Was it ever easy?” Kiara asked in his mind, pulling him from his memories.

“I don’t think so.”

He ended up leaving the photo on the sideboard, face down so his gaze wouldn’t accidentally find the portrait. He didn’t want to get rid of it, but it hurt to look at, so he preferred to keep it turned over to avoid being caught off guard. Kiara looked at the general with interest, her ears perking up.

“I have an idea that might improve your mood.”

“You and your ideas.” Zion stared at the animal’s expectant little face.

The chimera stood up and swaggered to the living room door, then wagged the tip of her heavy tail and shook her wings in a silent request. Through the psychic connection between them, Zion sensed she was trying to cheer him up, to comfort him somehow. What she sent him was nothing but genuine love for the general, something that made his cold heart warm just a little. The fae knew what she wanted, and perhaps it was exactly what he needed. The conversation with the quartet could wait a bit longer, and it would be good for him to calm down enough not to lose control. He was determined to go to the academy dormitories to talk to the boys and explain that he wouldn't tolerate that kind of behavior. Zion told himself that was what a good trainer would do. No thinking like a fae partner, no solving things with growls—but with well-reasoned words.

He walked to the small reading room beside the main living area, grabbed a pen, and wrote a quick note. It would be unfair to disappear without warning, and Kyller deserved to know he'd be away from home for a while.

Sensing this might bring him trouble, he stuck the note on the refrigerator. This was something he needed to do for both their sakes, even if she didn't understand. A little distance would soothe the bond, and he certainly couldn't maintain a friendly relationship with that thing vibrating between them.

He opened the door and set off with Kiara for a nighttime run along the outer wall, where the darkness was so deep that the general didn't need to pretend to be anything other than what he was: a shadow.

Chapter 12

The man ran through a blindingly white corridor, carrying me in his arms. I watched everything unfold from above, like a ghost—and apparently, that's exactly what I'd become. At least the pain had faded, and now I could see his face clearly.

He was the most captivating man I'd ever seen. Shadows slithered across his skin, and his face was etched with concern. His body was broad and powerful—even beneath the uniform, his muscles were clearly defined. His blond hair was long on top, shaved on the sides, and his hands, oh gods, were gentle. The gentlest hands to touch me in years.

The man pushed through a set of double doors and gently laid my cadaverous body on a wheeled table. Someone in a white coat stood waiting.

“She needs help,” he shouted, tugging my dress closed where it had fallen open, exposing me. His eyes moved to my thigh, and I could see the skin there had been sliced into ribbons—but the word “rat” was still visible amid the bloody mess.

The doctor rushed over to see what all the urgency was about. If my ghost had eyes, they would have been shining—meeting a real doctor had always been my dream.

“What's going on here, Zion?” So that was his name—Zion. I tried it out in my ghost mouth and found I liked how it sounded.