Zeke took pity on the man. “There is nothing you can do for her, Aidan.”
“I know that!”
The verbal whiplash, aimed directly at Zeke, was indicative of Aidan’s dark mood. However, once the words had left his lips, he seemed to remember himself. Immediately backpedaling, he shook himself in an eerily wolf-like manner.
“It’s difficult for me to see her this way. Nina has always been the strong one. Even when she’s in recoil, she never simply disappears.”
Zeke reeled under the familiar pang of sympathy. “It’s akin to losing a limb, isn’t it? Our connections to our clansmen—or in her case, also her fledglings—are something we take for granted. A constant loop of feedback keyed into our minds, designed to be unobtrusive yet unrelenting. For a link that’s sustained you for the entirety of your immortal lives, I can only imagine how it must feel to be without.
Continuing, he gazed adoringly at his mate. “I have little doubt Nina will return to us. She’s too stubborn not to.”
A single dark humor snort escaped Aidan. “That’s the truth.”
Kaien glanced at Aidan. “Who remains in the house?”
“Besides us, only Lucy and Toni.”
“Good.”
“What have you told your clansmen, Zeke?”
Drake’s shrewd gaze locked with his, the veil of frailty falling away. In its place was the vampire who’d survived eight centuries of immortal life and risen to the top of the proverbial food chain.
“Other than Hemin, I haven’t yet contacted them,” Zeke replied.
“And what will you tell them when they ask?”
Zeke’s eyes thinned. “My only priority right now is Nina’s wellbeing. I have no need to excuse my absence, vampire.”
Drake’s blank stare was followed by a tired-sounding sigh. When the vampire crossed his arms and looked at Kaien, Zeke knew he’d dropped the subject. “And your clansmen, Kaien?”
“Given what happened in the network, they’d know that she was gravely injured—and some will have concluded that she was at least temporarily dead,” he replied. “But we won’t see an attempt on her life from one of ours. It is a matter of honor. Any challenges to her sovereignty will come exclusively from other clans.”
“I’ll need to speak with Nina’s other fledglings,” Drake announced, putting his phone back in his pocket. “They’re out of their minds with worry.”
“Several said they were already on their way back here,” Blair added. “We’ll need to address it.”
As conversation hummed around him, Zeke retreated into the recesses of his mind. Tzuriel, far more attuned to his emotional barometer than he was comfortable with, had keyed into the fact that something catastrophic had occurred.
Over the last twenty minutes, his cousin had anxiously initiated telepathic conversation, and all three times, Zeke had stonewalled him. Now, with Nina no longer on the brink of death, he reached out to him telepathically.
Tzuriel.
The answer was immediate. Zeke, are you okay? Do you need help?
No, but I can’t return to Osiris for a time. For the foreseeable future, I need to ask you to remain there as regent.
Of course, Tzuriel replied. What’s happened?
Nina has been compromised by a near fatal wound, and I won’t leave her. Hemin is here, healing her as we speak. I needn’t warn you that this is in the strictest of confidence.
You have my word, sovereign. I will keep guard here.
Thank you, Tzuri. Keep an eye on that void spot at the boundary.
With a psychic nod, they closed communication lines. Tzuriel’s utmost loyalty had been confirmed in the centuries they’d been together. They were cousins, blood-related through their mothers, and they had shifted clans together following Zeke’s transition to sovereign. Tzuri had pledged allegiance to him without any inhibitions and, in time, after displaying proof of his competence and devotion, had become his second.
Hemin, Arya, Matteo and Das rounded out the second layer of leadership in his clan. Each of them was younger than a thousand years old. They’d been born under Zeke’s sovereignty and raised within the Danada, and none of them knew another’s rule. It made for extremely faithful lieutenants.