His tail unwound just enough to slide lower, tracing my hip in a slow, deliberate path.“It got me somewhere last night.”Warmth pulsed through our new connection—wonder laced with possessive satisfaction, like he couldn’t decide whether tostudy it or worship it.“More than somewhere,”he pathed.“I can feel you now,enax. Truly feel you.”
Enax.
His species’ word for mate slid through my mind like a prayer, like an admission, like a claim he was still afraid to speak aloud, still shocked that it had happened, yet fiercely pleased to be so intimately connected. His crimson thread pulsed against my mind—testing, learning, greedy in the quiet way scholars were greedy. Not for conquest.
For understanding.
Something all my mates did. Especially when something bothered me. Especially when they couldn’t fix it with a blade.
A laugh broke out of me before I could stop it—the sound foreign after weeks of tension and duty and endless responsibilities. When was the last time I’d felt this light? This unburdened?
It echoed in the tent, bright enough to make my chest ache.
Something flickered across his face—was it the uncertainty about his place in this complicated family we’d built? But then his expression softened, and he splayed his fingers wider, as if trying to encompass both me and the life growing inside me.
“I will protect you both,” he murmured. “Whatever comes.”
“You don’t even know—”
The air crackled.
I felt Kaede before I saw him—a spike of ice-cold terror that lanced through our bond so sharply I gasped. Not anger. Not frustration at finding me in bed with another male—especially Zyxel. Pure, undiluted fear.
Then he materialized right inside the tent’s entrance, fully armored, visor down, psydaggers already in his hands. The blue glow of his weapons cast strange shadows across the billowing fabric.
Zyxel’s reaction was instantaneous. His massive body coiled tighter around me, scales bristling along his spine as a hiss ripped from his throat—ancient, primal, the sound of a beast protecting its mate. His body curved over mine, spikes bristling along his spine.
Kaede didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look at him.
“Get dressed.” His voice was flat. Cold. The voice he used when emotions would only slow him down. “Now. We’re leaving.”
“Kaede—” I reached for our bond, trying to parse what had driven him to this state, and the force of what I found nearly stopped my heart.
Beneath his icy control, he wasterrified.
Not just worried. Not just on edge. Kaede—the male who had faced down armies, who had made assassination an art form, who had never shown fear in all the time I’d known him—was absolutelyterrified.And beneath that terror, I caught glimpses of calculation, contingency plans forming and discarding, escape routes mapping through his consciousness.
“What happened?” I pushed Zyxel’s tail aside, ignoring his protective hiss. “Tell me.”
Kaede’s gaze finally shifted to my newest mate, measuring him with the clinical assessment of a predator evaluating a potential threat—or potential asset. Whatever he concluded, it wasn’t enough to earn an explanation.
“The Quaww have declared war.”
The words landed like a physical blow. I’d known conflict was brewing—the skirmishes along the border, the political posturing, the veiled threats that grew bolder every month. Zirene had warned me it was only a matter of time. But somehow I’d let myself believe that time would stretch further, that we’d have more moments like this morning before everything shattered.
Foolish. Naive. Dangerous.
“When?”
“During the night. Coordinated strikes on the border.” His jaw tightened beneath his visor as he sheathed his weapons. “And something worse is coming.”
I was already reaching for my dress disk, pressing it against my collarbone. The familiar shimmer of nanites cascaded over my skin, clothing me in seconds—not the flowing gowns of the Beacon at leisure, but something more practical. Something that let me move. The softness of the morning—the lazy warmth, the post-bonding bliss—evaporated like mist beneath twin suns.
“What?” I demanded as I stood, facing the sire of my future child. “Tell me.”
Beside me, Zyxel’s massive form began to shift. Bones cracked and reformed beneath charcoal armor, plates sliding with a wet, deliberate precision as his Rkekh body compressed into the Ezzaska shape I knew. Obsidian scales flushed from within, bleeding into deep crimson while the crown of his skull reshaped—black horns forcing up and back as long black hair spilled out between shifting plates and fell down his spine like ink.
The change swept lower. His torso resegmented, forearm spines withdrawing as gold spread across his stomach in a molten gleam. Then his legs dissolved into motion—joints vanishing, muscle and bone flowing into one continuous coil that unfurled across the floor. In a handful of breaths, the crimson naga stood where the reptilian predator had been: humanoid torso above a powerful serpentine lower half, golden belly flashing as the room within the tent tightened around the sheer length of him.
