She was terrified.
He closed the distance between them in three strides. Protocol demanded restraint—a formal bow, perhaps a press of foreheads, something dignified for the crowds. Something befitting a Sovereign and his Beacon.
Zirene didn’t care about protocol.
He pulled her into his arms.
She came without resistance, molding against him like she was designed to fit there. His shadow curled around them both—involuntary, possessive, desperate. Tendrils of darkness wrapped around her waist, her shoulders, anywhere they could reach. Her hands fisted in the back of his ceremonial cloak. Her face pressed into the junction of his neck and shoulder, and he felt the hot splash of tears against his fur.
Let them watch. Let every Aldawi—every being—in the empire see how their Sovereign loved. He was done pretending it made him weak.
“Find me in the dreamscape.” The words came out rough, low enough for only her to hear. His voice cracked on them—avulnerability he’d never show anyone else. “Every night, Nova. I’ll be there waiting.”
“You’d better be.” Her voice was wet, thick with tears she refused to let fall where the crowd could see. “If you miss a single night, I’ll fly out there myself and drag you back by your ear.”
A sound escaped him—half-laugh, half-sob. “I don’t doubt it.”
He pulled back just far enough to press his forehead to hers. The ancient gesture of Aldawi intimacy—sharing breath, sharing thought, sharing everything that mattered. Through their weakened bond, he pushed all of it. The love he couldn’t put into words. The regret for the distance he’d kept between them. The vow to come back to her, no matter what stood in his way.
Her spots flickered—pink, purple, warm orange. Emotions she couldn’t hide, written across her skin for anyone who cared to look.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Stars help me, Zirene. I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. Her cheeks. The tears she hadn’t let fall. “Then you understand exactly how I feel.”
When their lips met, it wasn’t the restrained touch protocol demanded.
It was fiercer. Deeper. A claiming in front of thousands. A promise carved into flesh and soul and the bond between them. She kissed him like she was memorizing the shape of his mouth, and he kissed her back like a male who knew this might be the last time.
The crowd fell silent.
Not from shock—from reverence. From understanding. Every warrior in that plaza knew what it meant to leave someone behind. Every parent knew the ache of missing their children’smilestones. Every bonded pair knew the terror of separation when death waited at the end of the journey.
This was the price of the crown. Putting duty above love. Always.
When they finally broke apart, Selena’s fingers traced his jaw—a featherlight touch that burned like fire.
“Win your war.” Her voice steadied, strength returning to it like a psyblade being drawn. “Then come home and win me back.”
The words hit him like a challenge. A reminder that their weakened bond was his failure, not hers. That he had work to do when this was over—not just rebuilding an empire but rebuilding the closeness he’d been too afraid to accept.
“I will,” he swore. “Both.”
TheShadowClawwaited at the end of the platform—sleek and deadly, her hull drinking light like living darkness. B stood at the base of the ramp, his pilot’s stance patient but alert. Q was inside, knowing how much tension it would cause if the crowd saw a Quaww escorting their Sovereign into war. The leader of the Fab 5 was ready to carry Zirene to the front lines with all the speed he could coax from her engines.
Zirene looked at his clan one last time.
Kaede’s gaze met his—steel and promise, one warrior to another. The assassin didn’t need words. He simply nodded, and Zirene knew Selena would never be unguarded. Kaede would die before he let anyone touch her.
V’dim and Z’fir stood at attention, saluting his departure, even though they were his clanbrothers. They would leave soon too, under his command—deploying to the Sol system, another fracture in their constellation. But not yet. For now, they were here.
Xylo’s gentle presence radiated calm, his healer’s instincts already attuned to the grief rippling through the group. Odelmstood at his side, quiet and devoted, the empath’s awareness a steady anchor. Selena’s Primaries would make sure she wouldn’t be without during these trying times.
And Zyxel—the newest, the uncertain one—watched with something raw in his chartreuse eyes. Fear and determination and the fierce hunger to prove himself worthy of the family he’d joined. He would do well. Zirene sensed it in the way he positioned himself, protective and alert despite his uncertainty.
“Take care of her.” The words came out thick. Heavy. A command and a plea wrapped together. “Take care of them all.”
No one answered.
