Page 23 of Upon Shattered Bonds

The bed dipped beside her, a careful movement that didn’t displace her in the slightest. Warm, Aidan’s hand came to rest on her shoulder with a tenderness that belied his strength.

“Drink this, Nina.”

Slowly, he offered her a cup that sang to her senses. Though most of her was barely functioning, her body instinctively coveted the sustenance with a debilitating need. If she had the strength, she would have ripped the cup from her brother’s hands and greedily devoured the liquid.

She could barely lift her head.

With Kaien’s agreement and Aidan’s help, she sat up against the tufted headboard, gritting her teeth to avoid crying out in pain. Weakness weighed down her limbs, the quivering muscles sluggish at her command. Gentle, both of her brothers hovered over her, their eyes locked on hers even as she closed them to beat back the agony.

The churning need for sustenance would linger for a while, but after the cup was emptied, she found herself able to think more clearly. After more of the haze dissipated, dread coiled through her limbs as the situation became obvious.

“Was I dead?”

Both men held their breath and exchanged a loaded look. Kaien’s mouth gapped, soundless, a haunted look twisting his features. Recognizing him as a lost cause, she looked to Aidan, but he’d averted his eyes in what seemed to be regret.

“Yes, Nina,” said a woefully familiar voice. “You died.”

She stilled, suddenly aware of the other sovereign’s presence. Stepping out of the shadows, the masculine lines of Zeke’s face were illuminated by the intimate glow of her bedroom lamps. The bond called to her instincts, reaching toward the man who’d have completed her on a primal level. Outwardly, he was perfection.

He was a predator wrapped in a beautiful package.

Stifling a gasp as she attempted to adjust herself against the headboard, she consciously reminded herself that he wasn’t a threat. The Quint Treaty that existed between the five most powerful sovereigns ensured he’d never challenge her. But things between her and Zeke were complicated; it would be foolish to discount him.

“Did I kill him?” she asked, her eyes remaining on the most dangerous person in the room. “The assassin?”

“Yes.”

“Pity.”

Nina inhaled, only to stifle the movement as the pressure constricted her chest. Resisting the urge to clutch at her wound and show further weakness, she forced herself to keep still and clenched her fists weakly under the bedspread.

Kaien scoffed. “How is that a pity?”

“You can’t interrogate the dead.” Zeke finished the thought for her, proving his keen mind had played out the situation the same as hers.

“If he’d survived, he’d have finished the job.” Once more, Aidan offered a full cup to her lips, delicately tipping it so she could swallow.

“Did the assassin say anything to you?” Kaien asked.

Frowning, she tried to recall the moments before her collapse. A flicker of memory spirited through her mind, but nothing concrete solidified.

“He spoke telepathically, but I can’t recall the words.”

A sullen grunt from the corner where Zeke stood guard. Turning her head to glare at him, Nina bared her teeth but refrained from asking why he was in her territory. There were more pressing matters to attend to, and the answer would eventually come out.

“The merjha ripped through your heart, Nina. Hemin—Zeke’s healer—and I repaired the initial damage, but you’re in congestive heart failure. You’re still too close to the edge. We’d try to do more, but—”

“You’re close to recoil. And we can’t let too many people—including healers—know what happened,” Nina finished, feeling the words take their toll the longer she tried to speak.

As it was, the network was fragile. Any attack on them might prove fatal until Nina could regain some semblance of her former strength. Without Kaien and her lieutenants to balance out her draw on the psychic web, it’d collapse under the slightest attempt at sabotage.

When she’d been injured, the valve between her and her clansmen had changed—or been damaged. Instead of Nina sustaining them with her energy, it’d created an inverted loop, leeching off their power, and traveling in reverse. She simply didn’t have the psychic reserves to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” Kaien breathed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Unable to see her twin in pain, Nina’s fingers inched across the bedspread to brush weakly against his. Their bond was awash with his despair, and it was all she could do to comfort him.

“I’m still here, Kaien, thanks to you.”

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