Iris nods, indicating that she’s listening.
Kael continues. “He’s been here a few days, but something’s… wrong.”
He hesitates, and I can feel the frustration in him—the need to explain this in a way that makes sense when none of it does.
She waits, her expression sharp with focus.
Kael exhales. “He wasn’t just pulled through a rift. He was pulled through the centre of the Earth to get here.”
Iris blinks. “Excuse me?”
He presses on. “Jack—another human—was pulled through from Australia. And we’re sure it was at the same time, the same rift. Dawson came through in Portugal. Opposite sides of the world. If you put a ruler straight through the Earth—” He mimics the motion, just as I had earlier. “—their locations practically line up.”
Her brows knit together, but her eyes gleam with something thoughtful.
Kael carries on. “Whatever happened to Dawson, it wasn’t natural. And now, something’s happening to him.” His words catch slightly, his jaw tightening.
I take over.
“He was unconscious for hours,” I say, gripping my glass a little tighter. “When he was found, his body temperature was low. Too low. Then he woke up—seemed fine—but out of nowhere, he fitted.” I swallow hard. “He stopped breathing.”
Iris stiffens. “As in had a seizure?”
I bob my head. “Yes. He had a pulse but no breath. I gave him CPR, and he started breathing again. It didn’t make sense. It still doesn’t.” I meet her gaze, my stomach twisting. “We don’t know what’s wrong. We’re at a loss and need your help.”
Iris doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stands. I track her movements as she goes to a cabinet, opening it with quick, precise hands. She starts gathering supplies—bundles of herbs, small vials filled with liquid, things I don’t recognise but I suppose must be important.
“So, let me get this straight,” she says, not looking up. “This guy wasn’t just pulled through a rift. He got slingshotted through the core of the Earth?”
Kael nods once as I wince, saying, “It’s just a theory at this point.”
Iris snorts, shaking her head. “Jesus. No wonder he’s fucked up.”
I almost laugh. Almost. Instead, I watch as she keeps working, pulling more items from her stores. And despite everything—the pain, the exhaustion, the way my body still doesn’t quite feel like my own—relief unfurls in my chest.
Because she’s already moving. Already helping. Already calling, “Hen—” Iris barely gets the second syllable of his name out before her mate appears.
One second, the space near the doorway is empty. The next, he’s there.
I jump. Hard. Nearly dropping my empty glass.
Kael doesn’t jump. But he does turn to steel, his entire body locking down in a way that makes my own muscles tense in response. He doesn’t reach for his blade, but I can feel how much he wants to.
I can’t blame him.
The Hendroy—Henny—stands like something conjured from the deepest, most primeval parts of existence. Shadows coil around his massive form, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable and deeply unsettling.
If he had eyebrows, I’m pretty sure they’d be furrowed into a scowl.
Iris, completely unfazed, just sighs and turns to him. “I need to go to Dathanor.”
Henny does not like this.
His stare sharpens, his entire presence seeming to vibrate with displeasure. And yet neither of them speak. They just… look at each other.
It lasts long enough for the hairs on my arms to rise. I shift uncomfortably, glancing back and forth as something icy and silent passes between them.
Oh. Oh hell.
