He pulled back. Squared his shoulders. Returned to his post beside Nocrez with the measured steps of a guard resuming his station.
That was what wrecked me. My daughter who felt everything, stood solemn, her paws tucked behind her.
“Keep the safe, Mama.” Her voice was small but sure. “I’ll keep everyone fed while you’re gone. I already told the kitchen staff what to make.”
A laugh broke through the ache in my chest—startled, wet, the kind that was almost a sob. “I bet you did.” I kissed her forehead. “Take care of your brothers. And listen to your clanfathers, even when they’re being ridiculous.”
“They’re always being ridiculous.”
“Exactly.”
She took my hands and locked eyes with my own. Her awareness—deeper than a child’s should be. She saw things—things beyond her age. We all knew it. We didn’t know what to do about it.
“Beacons light the way, Mama.” Her voice carried no tremor. No uncertainty. “Even in the darkest void.”
The words landed in my chest like a brand.
“Meti…” I swallowed. “Where do you hear these things?”
“I don’t hear them.” A small, certain smile. “I see them.” She squeezed my hands—a grown-up gesture in a child’s body. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes. You always do.”
My strange, knowing, impossible daughter. She saw too much. Knew too much. But her faith in me—I would carry on this mission like armor.
I pulled all three of them into my arms. Held them against me while the morning light spilled gold across the pad, while theAbysshummed behind us and the bonds stretched into the stars and the galaxy waited for me to stop being a mother and start being a Beacon.
They could wait.
Xylo’s thread brushed mine—gentle, aching.“They’re ready, nestqueen. They’re stronger than either of us expected.”
“They’rechildren,”I pathed back, and the raw edge of it must have bled through because Xylo’s thread pulsed warmer.“They shouldn’t have to be this brave.”
“No.”Odelm’s thread joined his bondbrother’s, layering over the ache with something warm and melodic—the echo of the hopeful song, woven into his mental voice.“But they are. Because they’re yours.”
I kissed each of them one more time. Stood. Let go.
Xylo waited until I released the cubs before he pressed a med-kit into my hands. Small, compact, packed with precision.
“Anti-nausea compounds for the pregnancy. The blue vials are for pain—don’t take more than two in six hours. The red ones are—” His voice broke. He clenched his jaw, pulled it back together. “The red ones are emergency stimulants. If you lose consciousness and need to—”
“Xylo.”
“Promise me you’ll use them.”
I cupped his face. My Favored. My Primary. The male who healed everything he touched and couldn’t fix the one thing that was breaking him.
“Come back to us.” His teal thread blazed against mine—hot, desperate, the professional composure stripped away to reveal the raw truth beneath. “All of you. Please.”
“That’s the plan.”
“I’ll hold the web,”he pathed, the words layered with a steadiness his spoken voice couldn’t manage.“Destima’s network won’t falter while you’re gone. I promise. Focus on the mission and let me carry this.”
“I know you will.”I pressed my forehead to his. Breathed him in—teal-tinted warmth, the sterile-clean scent of a healer,the underlying sweetness that was purely Xylo.“You’re my anchor, Xylo. You always have been.”
Odelm was steadier than yesterday.
“I’ll play every night,” he said. The words were the same he’d given V’dim and Z’fir, but the weight of them had changed—heavier now, loaded with the understanding that this time the distance would be greater. The danger closer.“Listen for me across the stars.”
“I will.”I held his gaze—those warm pale green eyes that saw music in everything, that had watched me with a devotion he never thought he deserved to give.“Play the hopeful one. Every night. Promise me.”
