Because Selena was his home.
And Zirene had spent all his life homeless.
He refused to lose her now.
9
Selena
The nestroom was full of my males.
I led Zirene through the back doorway, his massive paw engulfing mine, his shadow trailing behind us like a living cloak. The sight of my clan waiting made my heart lodge somewhere behind my ribs.
Kaede sat near the edge of the nest, spine straight, every line of him controlled and watchful even in rest. His sharp neon-green eyes found mine immediately, tracking my entrance with the focused intensity that made my pulse kick.
Xylo occupied one corner, a quiet galaxy made flesh. His dark gray—almost black—skin was patterned with splotches of deep greens, blues, and purples, colors shifting subtly in the low light like nebulae caught mid-drift. When his teal eyes lifted to meet mine, there was a calm there that steadied me.
Odelm reclined beside him, carefully setting aside his long, spiraled alien flute—theaelthryn—before turning toward me with a warm, welcoming smile. The echo of his song lingered faintly in my chest, humming through the bonds between us likean afterimage of sound, reminding me of the song he’d played for me earlier.
V’dim sat cross-legged on the far side of the nest, all dark water and quiet gravity. His dark cobalt blue skin flowed with loose swirls of lighter and deeper blues, teals, and violets, as if light moved through him instead of over him. Speckled hues traced his arm and thigh blades, and his tentacles—deep blue fading into dark turquoise—rested loosely around him, webbed feet tucked in close.
Z’fir stood near the window, moss-draped shoulders squared, dark brown skin threaded with tan and rich emerald vein-root patterns. He was positioned where he could see everything—grounded, immovable, a quiet promise of protection.
Both princes positioned where they could see everything, their protective instincts never fully at rest… as if Kaede wasn’t there, always on high alert.
And Zyxel…
My breath caught before I even finished the thought.
My newest mate hovered at the edge of the nest, coiled uncertainly, his crimson-tinged scales catching on the gemmed orb light. Still learning his place. Still trying to figure out where he fit in this complicated, impossible family we’d built from broken pieces and fate-woven threads.
They were all watching me.
Waiting for me.
My mental web trembled with the weight of their attention—six distinct threads pulsing with emotion. Fear threaded through love. Desire tangled with grief. Want and worship and the kind of devotion that made my chest ache. The air itself felt thick with it—charged, electric, heavy with all the things none of us could say.
Our last night together.
The thought crashed through me like a wave. Tomorrow, Zirene would be gone—flying toward a war that could swallow him whole. V’dim and Z’fir would follow soon after. My constellation would fracture, stretch thin across the void of space, and all I would have left were the threads connecting us. The dreamscape. The bond.
It wasn’t enough.
But it would have to be. I needed to be stronger—to hold fast to my clan’s threads, to keep Destima’s mental web safe and secure. Once Zirene was gone, I would throw myself into more lessons with Ryzen, anything to do my part and stay anchored.
I stepped deeper into the nestroom, tugging Zirene with me. The lights sensed the shift immediately, dimming a fraction—just enough to soften the space, to signal privacy without ever plunging us into shadow. The door sealed behind us with a muted click, the sound carrying a strange finality, like a bell tolling midnight—marking the end of one thing and the fragile beginning of another.
Water whispered along the glass walls, gentle and constant, reflections of starlight rippling across the pool that encircled the nestbed. Color scattered over the rainbow grass and the amethyst headboard at the room’s heart, the glow from the night lamps tracing the walkways and glass bridges in quiet arcs of light. Everything here seemed to breathe with us—adjusting, accommodating,holding.
I felt it settle in my chest then, the purpose of this room. Not indulgence. Not excess. Sanctuary. A space built to cradle us when the universe demanded too much. The retracting ceiling remained open, stars drifting slowly overhead, as if Zirene had bent the heavens closer just for me—just for this moment.
I tightened my grip on his paw, painfully aware of how fleeting this was. Tomorrow would scatter us across battle lines and council chambers, across distances measured in light-yearsand loss. But here, now, with the lights dimmed and the water murmuring softly along the glass, the world narrowed to this room.
To us.
Something precious.
Something fleeting.
