Page 38 of Upon Shattered Bonds

“What’s changed?” Aidan asked. “You’ve been a sovereign for twelve centuries.”

In a flash of light, Liam’s body disappeared, remote-teleported away. Glowering, Zeke grunted in response. “Too cowardly to face you.”

For a moment, none of them spoke, silent agreement among those who’d witnessed it. Blood had gushed over the grasses, painting a macabre picture that’d seeped into the soil.

“I don’t know what’s changed, Aidan, but I know they won’t cease their attempts until I’m dead,” Nina said before making a move to stand.

Rolling his eyes at the absurd idea, Zeke bent at the waist before sweeping her into his arms. If she had any shock at the chivalrous gesture, she didn’t show it, but even that satisfaction couldn’t balance the rising anger that threatened to overwhelm. As he struggled to tamp down the negative sentiments, Drake spoke.

“Did his sovereign warn you of his intent through the network? Was there any reason for Liam to challenge you, specifically?”

Nina hummed angrily. “I wasn’t able to get that far before he faded.”

The rest of Nina’s companions followed behind Zeke as he started heading towards the house. In his arms, his mate became pensive and avoided the intensity of his gaze, but her arms remained tentatively clasped around his neck. Her skin was chilled in a way that spoke of frailty.

Instead of walking to the bedroom, Kaien motioned for him to set her down in the sitting room, beside the blazing hearth.

A fresh pang of melancholy worked its way through the mating bond between them. Before Zeke could straighten from setting her down, Nina’s fingers curled gently around his wrist.

The contact was soft, almost hesitant, a stark dichotomy from Nina’s typical manner. She merely studied his features as if committing them to memory.

Then, hushed, she asked, “Where did you go this morning?”

One look at her confirmed his suspicions. The subtle frown she wore, the faint pinching between her eyebrows. Nina had missed him. Hope, long since lost, sparked to life.

Inhaling abruptly to right himself, Zeke replied, “To my territory. We were attacked.”

“By whom?” Concern radiated through their ghosting mating bond, the woman who’d yet to release his hand tightening her grip ever so slightly.

“We’re unsure.” Admitting it in front of their audience was grating. “No clues were left as to who committed the crime, and we do not have a clansman who is skilled in hindsight.”

Nina’s solution was immediate. “Then we can send Mere.”

Mouth gaping at the offer, Zeke debated, “Your territory needs to be guarded, and while the assault on mine was troubling, it wasn’t serious.”

“And if the events are connected?” Her keen intellect had identified the situation immediately. “It’d be in both of our best interests if Mere helps to find the culprit.”

Zeke dipped his chin in agreement and an undercurrent of telepathy heated the air. Within moments, a male Raeth stood before them. Zeke had never once seen Mere look anything but squared away and pristine.

“Sovereign. You have need of me?”

“Thank you for coming, Mere. Zeke’s territory was attacked. Would you be willing to lend your talents to uncover the truth?”

“Of course, sovereign.” He straightened. “Remmus has also been investigating the Raeth who shot you. We’ve run his image through several searches, but we’re unable to confirm who he was. We have reason to believe his face might’ve been transfigured to hide his identity.”

It was a common habit for Raeths who worked in the black market and wanted to conceal their identity—but a psychic signature never lied. It was another reason why Raeths with the Shielding ability were often recruited: to cover both their mental print and their physical features.

“Thank you, Mere,” Nina said. “I’ll touch base with Remmus.”

Zeke sent telepathic messages to his lieutenants to prepare them for Mere’s arrival minutes later. “I appreciate your assistance, Nina.”

“It only makes sense,” she replied. “Mere’s the best suited for the job.”

There was an odd note in her voice, a flatness that sounded off. Turning to glance at her, Zeke stilled. Flickering firelight cast shadows over her skin, where she sat atop the chaise. Her expression had turned sorrowful, and her eyes had lost the playful light that defined her.

Delving deeper, he reached toward the mating bond between them, finding determination and resolve waiting for him. Though he knew her character and expected that response, a third emotion lingered silently beneath them: hopelessness.

It was ever-so-slight that he hadn’t noticed. Zeke cursed himself, detesting the fact that she’d hidden it from him under the guise of strength—and that he hadn’t been keen enough to realize it.

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