Calix
TWELVE
The memory of her sitting beside him, their easy conversation flowing like wine, sent heat spiraling through his chest. The way she'd looked when she asked about fated mates—curious, engaged, then suddenly terrified when he'd explained the permanence of the bond.
Her eyes had gone wide with something that looked suspiciously like panic when he'd mentioned being "bound together forever. "
She ran from you again last night, his dragon reminded him unhelpfully.
The irony wasn't lost on him. He was both—the ultimate authority figure expecting unquestioning obedience from his people, and a man falling so hard for his fated mate that the thought of losing her made his chest tighten with panic.
Steam rose from the eggs as he scrambled them with practiced movements, his mind wandering to the vulnerability he'd shown last night.
When she'd asked about his past, something about her steady attention had unlocked words he'd never spoken aloud.
The pain of losing his father and brother within months of each other.
The political necessity of his arrangement with Sarah.
The betrayal that had taught him trust was a luxury he couldn't afford.
But Arvid hadn't offered empty sympathy or tried to minimize his experiences.
She'd simply listened with those warm brown eyes that seemed to see straight through his carefully maintained armor to the man beneath.
No one had ever done that before—seen him as just Calix rather than the king who carried everyone on his shoulders.
His dragon rumbled fondly at the memory, recognizing the significance of that connection. Arvid understood him in ways no one else ever had or could.
The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts.
Calix quickly plated the eggs alongside sliced fruit and fresh bread, his pulse quickening as Arvid's scent—lilies and rain—grew stronger.
He'd made enough food for a small army, driven by memories of her hollow cheeks yesterday and the way she'd practically devoured their dinner.
She appeared in the kitchen doorway dressed in practical dark slacks and a crisp white blouse that somehow made her look both professional and devastatingly beautiful.
Her long hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail that exposed the elegant line of her neck, and Calix had to grip the counter to keep from crossing the room and burying his face against that tempting curve.
"You didn't have to do this," she said, her gaze taking in the spread of food with something that might've been surprise.
"I figured we'd be spending most of the day in the lab," Calix replied, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "You need proper nourishment if you're going to solve this outbreak."
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "I didn't think you'd be spending the whole day with me. I assumed you'd just be my escort between locations."
Heat crept up Calix's neck as he realized how presumptuous he'd sounded.
But the thought of leaving her with Dorn and the other healers while he sat in his office reviewing reports felt impossible.
Yesterday's attack had proven how dangerous Ashvorn could be for her, and his protective instincts were operating at maximum intensity.
More than that, he wanted to be near her. Wanted to watch her brilliant mind work through the puzzle of Ash Fever. Wanted to be useful to her in ways that went beyond royal authority and dragon strength.
"I thought I could help," he said, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that betrayed his uncertainty. "Provide insight about Ashvorn and its people. Give you a different perspective on things you might not see from a purely medical standpoint."
Arvid studied him with those penetrating eyes that seemed to catalog everything. For a moment, he wondered if she could sense the deeper truth—that he couldn't bear the thought of being separated when she might be in danger.
"I suppose your perspective could prove useful," she said finally, settling onto one of the stools at the center island. "An extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt either. My assistant Maggie is invaluable back on Earth, so I guess you can be my Maggie here in Ashvorn."
Relief flooded through him at the comparison, though he suspected Arvid had no idea how significant that trust felt. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should." She picked up her fork and began eating with focused efficiency. "Maggie saved my sanity more times than I can count. Having someone who understands both the work and the stakes makes all the difference."
Calix matched her pace, though part of him wanted to slow down and savor this moment of domestic normalcy. Watching Arvid eat the breakfast he'd prepared sent satisfaction flooding through him, the simple act of providing for his mate triggering instincts as old as his bloodline.
"Tell me about her," he said, genuinely curious about the people who'd earned Arvid's loyalty and trust.
"Former military, like me. Brilliant in her own right, though she'd argue that point.
" Arvid's expression softened with obvious affection.
"She has this way of anticipating what I need before I realize I need it.
Makes me eat when I forget. Forces me to rest when I'm running on fumes.
Calls me out when I'm being stubborn or reckless. "
The warmth in her voice when she spoke about her assistant made Calix's chest tighten with something uncomfortably close to jealousy.
Not romantic jealousy—he could sense through their bond that Arvid's feelings for Maggie were purely platonic.
But the easy intimacy she described, the trust and understanding built over years of partnership, represented everything he wanted with Arvid.
"She sounds like exactly the kind of partner everyone needs," he said carefully.
"She is." Arvid glanced at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "I'm lucky to have her."
The implication hung in the air—that Arvid understood the value of having someone at her back, someone who complemented her strengths and covered her weaknesses.
Calix wondered if she realized she was describing the kind of partnership the mate bond could create, given the chance to develop properly.
His dragon stirred hopefully, but Calix pushed down the urge to voice that thought. Too much, too soon. Arvid was already skittish about permanence and connection. Better to prove his worth through actions than words.
She finished her breakfast with the same methodical efficiency she'd displayed the night before, clearly eager to begin the day's work. Calix found himself admiring her single-minded focus even as his protective instincts chafed at her willingness to rush headlong into potential danger.
"Ready?" she asked, sliding off the stool with movements that spoke to her military training.
Calix nodded, though ready felt like an understatement. He was eager, determined, and terrified in equal measure. Today he would work beside his mate, prove his value to her mission, and hopefully begin earning the trust that might eventually allow him to reveal the truth about their bond.
The laboratory hummed with quiet efficiency when they finally entered the sterile space, the scent of antiseptic mingling with something distinctly Ashvorn—volcanic minerals and the faint metallic tang that seemed to permeate everything in the territory.
Calix followed Arvid through the maze of workstations, his awareness split between the surroundings and the intoxicating presence of his mate near him.
Arvid moved with purposeful strides, her ponytail swaying as she navigated between equipment that looked both foreign and strangely advanced to his eyes. She gestured toward a pristine workstation near the far wall of the lab, its surface gleaming under the overhead lights.
"I need you to compile a comprehensive list of ingredients," Arvid said, her voice taking on the crisp authority he'd noticed whenever she shifted into professional mode.
"Every component in those cultural dishes and drinks you mentioned.
Don't leave anything out—herbs, spices, preparation methods, even the water sources if you know them. "
Calix accepted the datapad she handed him, the device warm from her touch. His dragon stirred at even that minimal contact, demanding more, always more. He forced himself to focus on the task, pulling up the interface with movements that felt clumsy compared to her fluid efficiency.
Finally, he thought as his fingers moved across the screen, something useful I can actually do.
Four months of watching his people suffer while feeling utterly powerless had left him raw with frustration.
Every council meeting had been the same—reports of new cases, failed treatment attempts, theories that led nowhere.
But this felt different. Purposeful. Like maybe his thirty-four years of cultural knowledge might actually matter for once.
"Ember-root stew," he murmured, inputting the ingredients from memory.
"Flame-kissed bread, crystallized fire-fruit...
" Each item brought back memories of communal gatherings he'd attended before the outbreak, the warmth of shared meals and the easy camaraderie that had made those events so central to Ashvorn's identity.
"Lyssi could gather most of these ingredients," he said, glancing up from the datapad to find Arvid studying him with those penetrating brown eyes. "She's the one who organizes half the communal meals anyway. Always has her kitchen stocked with traditional ingredients."
Arvid's expression brightened. "I actually met her yesterday—she gave me coins for the vending machine when I realized I didn't have any. Seemed like the kind of person who notices when someone needs help."
"That's Lyssi," Calix agreed, unable to suppress a smile at the accuracy of that assessment. "Always taking care of others."