Page 56 of Upon Shattered Bonds

Continuing, Tzuriel locked eyes with him. “Nina’s life isn’t the only thing at stake, here. Her clan, yes, but also yours. Ours. Your very life. Everything is tied together in a blind poker game where we don’t know the stakes and someone else is holding our cards.

“We can’t even bet one way or the other because any predictable outcome is overshadowed by the unknown. What will happen if Nina dies, and your mating bond remains unfulfilled? What if, by some miracle, she lives, and you finalize the bond?”

Zeke saw no way around the truth. “I don’t know, Tzuriel. You’re right: the unknown is paralyzing us. But if we do nothing—if I do nothing—then the odds are stacked against Nina in a game she can’t win. If she dies, I can’t guarantee I won’t follow. Just as I can’t guarantee what’ll happen if we do finalize our bond.”

He lifted his chin, avowing, “I will never forsake this clan, and I will never forsake my people, but Nina must remain my priority. You are all capable of leading in my absence—I’ve trained all of you and know this—and I need you to prove it to me, however short or long this might take.”

Glancing around the makeshift circle, calm and an enduring willingness to drive forward stiffened their spines. Tzuriel, the man who knew him better than anyone, gave him a slight nod.

“You have my word, sovereign. We’ll follow you wherever you lead.” A sad but resolute smile ghosted on his cousin’s lips. “Until the end of this and beyond—whenever or whatever that may be.”

An easy silence settled, the minds of his most trusted men and women heartening, until Hemin snapped, “Except if you get hit by another merjha. Damn it, Zeke, these wounds aren’t meant to heal. Your sword arm will be compromised for days.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve listed myself on the ‘Do Not Attack’ list for the next week,” Zeke deadpanned. “I shall endeavor only to lift my pen to write my autobiography: Zeke and His Overprotective Healer.”

Rolling his eyes hard enough to warrant a concussion, Hemin’s chuckled as the rest of his lieutenants mirrored the sentiment.

Grinning, Tzuriel added, “It can be a series. Zeke and His Reluctant Mate. Zeke and His Incredibly Handsome Cousin.”

“Zeke and His Seriously Amazing Lieutenants,” Arya quipped merrily.

For the first time since Nina’s attack, Zeke’s booming laugh returned. His most trusted, rife with tension at the beginning of informal meeting, slowly began to uncoil for the first time in the last several days. Their bright mood could not soothe him for long, unfortunately.

Come nightfall, he’d once again watch his mate fight for her life.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nina’s fingertips connected with her temples, trying unsuccessfully to ease the pain rooting between them. Silence banked into the empty corners of her home.

She’d banished nearly everyone from the house that was wedged peacefully into the Lexington countryside. The situation had grown too volatile. While the move had primarily been one to protect those she cherished, that wasn’t the whole truth.

If her pride didn’t get in her way, she would have asked for more help. Maybe even allowed them to fight some of her battles for her. But she couldn’t allow them to see her fall prey to weakness.

It would prove her downfall. Her father, for all his worth, had succumbed to the same hubris. Looking back, she could see it clearly: overconfidence had blinded him to his own weaknesses. It was those blind spots that had surprised him in the end, and those who trusted him were put on the line.

Trust was the foundation of any clan. Nina’s people depended on her for their security and wellbeing. It was not a task she took lightly. Trust, once broken, would remain shattered. Yes, the shards could be reassembled, heated together to form a new pane, but the picture would never again be clear.

Her father had failed in that. Nina was determined not to.

Closing her eyes, Nina’s mind speared into the mental network that connected her to her clan. A living canvas, each member was directly connected to her through the psychic fibers that spanned outward from her mind to theirs.

The connections were as unique as every individual, and as varied as the colored leaves on an autumn tree. Some links shone brightly, the relationship that built them a cathedral of light glistening against the backdrop of their mental network. Others were sedate, hued with the introverted personality of their host.

Like her connection with Kaien, some bonds were ancient, dating back to childhood or very soon thereafter. Built over centuries, they had been forged in steel and sweat. Others were new, little more than whisps. Children, primarily, or those who’d recently sworn their allegiance to her and her clan.

All of them, without exception, were dependent on Nina. Without a sovereign, the clan would disintegrate. The neural network linked all clansmen together, yes, but like a giant oak tree, if the root structure failed, the tree fell.

Light flickered against her eyelids, but she had already sensed her fledgling as she entered the room. Quiet, the vampire settled beside her on the chaise lounge. As Nina returned to the physical plane, Blair rested her head gently against her shoulder, curling up in a ball.

“This can’t be the way it ends.”

Deeply distraught, Blair’s voice bore no trace of hope. Heart clenching painfully—in more ways than one—Nina put an arm around her fiercest friend. They were so deeply rooted together that no distance could separate them, and they’d been companions through the ages.

“It won’t be,” Nina lied. “Have faith, Blair. I’m made of sterner stuff.”

“Ha,” came the bland laugh. “Says the woman who nearly had a panic attack because I asked her to sing at my wedding.”

“A panic attack, huh?” Lips quirking at the thought, Nina allowed herself a smile. “Is that what that was?”

---