Chapter 11 #3
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.