“I need to be able to protect myself,”I admitted through our link, keeping the conversation private from the bond web.“If something happens at the space station—if we’re separated—”
“You have me.”His presence brightened, fierce and loyal.“You have your mates. You have the Royal Guard.”
“And if there’s a moment—even a second—when none of them can reach me?”
Silence pulsed through our connection. I felt Vowels considering, turning the problem over in that ancient mind of his.
“There is one option.”His mental voice had gone careful. Measured.“The spirit weapons. Ryzen’s daggers.”
Something sparked in my chest. Hope. Interest. The beginning of an idea that felt dangerous and right at the same time.
“I can touch them,”I reminded him.“I’ve done it before. But I can’t summon them. Can’t wield them.”
“No. You can’t. Spirit weapons are tied to their wielder’s soul—their spiritforce. You would need to share that connection to access them yourself.”
“Share it how?”
Another pause. Longer this time. I could feel Vowels weighing his words, choosing them with the care of someone walking through a minefield.
“Bonding,”he finally said.“A true soul-bond. The kind Ryzen’s people have forbidden for generations.”
Forbidden.
The word sat heavy in my mind. The Verya had rules about this—old rules, ancient rules, the kind that carried the weight of cultural trauma. He’d stated before that his people didn’t touch… and yet, he’d been open to let me do it as of late.
I’d seen enough of intergalactic politics to know thatforbiddenusually meantdangerous. Usually meantpermanent.
Usually meant you couldn’t undo what you’d done.
“I’m not suggesting you pursue this,”Vowels added quickly.“I’m only answering your question. You asked if there was a way. There is. But the cost—”
“I need to talk to Ryzen.”
“Selena—”
“I’m not making any decisions. I’m asking questions.”I set my teacup down on the viewport ledge, my reflection ghosting back at me from the starfield beyond.“He deserves to know I’m thinking about this. And I deserve to understand what I’d be asking for.”
Vowels went quiet. Not angry—contemplative. I could feel him turning my logic over, searching for holes.
“Be careful,”he finally said.“This is not a small thing you’re considering.”
“I know.”That was exactly why I had to do it. “Zyxel.”
He was on his feet before I finished turning around, that protective alertness snapping into place. Stars, Kaede had trained him well.
“I need to speak with Ryzen. Alone.”
Something flickered in those chartreuse eyes. Not jealousy—Zyxel was too practical for that. At least now. Now that we were at war. Concern, maybe. Or the protective instinct that came with our new bond.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes.” I crossed to him, pressed my palm against his chest. Felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath my fingers. “I just have questions. The kind that only he can provide and need to be asked face-to-face.”
He studied me for a long moment. Then nodded.
“I’ll be here when you return.”
I smiled—small, grateful—and slipped out of the observation lounge before I could second-guess myself.
