Page 35 of Upon Shattered Bonds

A vicious shake of his head was accompanied by a resolute exhale. “We can’t let them win, sire. What must I do to protect you?”

“I’m afraid this is a fight I must see to alone.”

"You’ve been fighting alone for decades, Nina. Longer, truly.” He shook his head. “There has to be something I can do.”

“You being here is enough.”

“It’s not!” he shouted, then softened in the same breath. “It’s not. You’re being attacked—targeted—and all I can do is sit around, twiddling my thumbs, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hate the fact that you’ve only just returned to us, and this is how it plays out.”

Frowning, Nina asked, “Only just returned to you?”

“You’ve been missing in action for a century, sire, without reason or explanation,” he said. “Why?”

On the heels of his question, she realized the truth of it: she hadn’t fooled anyone in her withdrawal, least of all the ones closest to her. Closing her eyes, Nina let his pain wash over her. But as she shut out the scene in front of her, a far different one played in its place.

"I made a poor decision, Drake.” Forcing the heartbreak out of her mind, she opened her eyes to look at him. “Forgive me if I hurt you. It was not my intent.”

“What was your intent? Why did you pull away from us a century ago?”

“I got tied up in something that was—” she struggled to find the right word, “—unethical.”

“Unethical?”

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. “It wasn’t intentional. It just ... happened. When I realized that I was complicit, I did what I could to correct it, but some things can’t be fixed. I was ashamed, embarrassed by what I’d done, so I …”

As she trailed off, Drake picked up the slack, “So you came here.”

Every muscle in her body was unnaturally tense. Drake looked at her strangely, like he couldn’t quite place what sin she could’ve committed. He’d held her up to an impossible standard for so long, seeming to think she was above everything else. Seeing that come crashing down around him felt like she was being swept out to sea.

It was the truth: Nina had committed sins even she could barely stomach. The lives of hundreds of immortals—thousands—had irreparably changed because of her actions.

“Leaving Kaien in charge was the only thing I could’ve done,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Because the decisions I’d made, the things I’d done: none of them were the actions of a good sovereign.” Nina swallowed against her thickening throat. “Kaien is a good man. And I was certain he’d do a better job of leading my clan than I would.”

For a moment, she didn’t think Drake would respond. His fathomless brown eyes searched hers, calculating and evaluating. Just when she thought all hope was lost, he said, “You’re a good person, Nina. Don’t let a handful of bad decisions throw out all the good ones.”

Choking on a sob, Nina allowed Drake to hold her in his arms. To hear him forgive her, even if he didn’t know the truth of it, was something she’d desperately needed.

With a kiss to her forehead, he released her.

Drawing a fortifying breath into her lungs, her heart stuttered, spasming in her chest. Aidan and Kaien wasted no time in throwing open the door, the healer immediately assuming Drake’s place by her bedside.

Every breath felt like she was drowning, pressure weighing on her chest and constricting oxygen from reaching her lungs. She panted even as Kaien’s healing power slammed into her. Minutes later, after the agony abated, she opened her eyes to find that they’d been joined by Blair and Zeke, the latter of which had joined her on the bed.

When her best friend clasped her hand in solidarity, Nina’s façade nearly crumpled.

She’d nearly admitted that she didn’t know if she could do this, that defeat would be a more welcome end than suffering through this weakness. She hated depending on them to be her guard and her shadow, the only thing standing between her and another fatal bullet.

But to do so would show vulnerability.

Her pride wouldn’t allow it. Nina had grown up to be autonomous, dependent on no one but herself. Deferring to others, especially when she was incapable of doing something herself, was a fault in her book. And that book was already too long.

Humility had never been her strong suit. Nina realized that her own conceit was a flaw, acknowledged it. She saw no reason to stop, especially when her life was very nearly at its end.

***

---