51. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Zeke
Zeke would miss the sound of his children’s laughter the most. Their joy was a gift he cherished at every opportunity. Whether it was due to a fun game, their father’s silly antics, or a mischievous plot, he loved every part of it.
Aidan and Lucy, the twins’ godparents, had arrived on clan lands yesterday at his request. Though he was struggling with staying awake—and fully aware—Zeke would continue pushing through to his last. What needed to be said here was vital.
Lucy stared at him with concern. She’d brought him a plate of food not two minutes before, urging him to eat as much as he could. While it had helped take the edge off, there was no filling the gaping void inside him.
It was as if his anchor had been uprooted. The world was simply passing him by, a ghost ship tossed about in waves too strong to overcome.
The connections in his mind were fluctuating wildly. Each link that bound him to his clan had corroded like rusted metal flaking beneath sandpaper. If they didn’t do something soon, it’d be too late to save it.
Refocusing on the couple seated across from him, he asked, “When Nina and I are gone, can I count on you two to raise our children?”
The words tasted bitter. Centuries had passed in longing for his mate and the family they would have. Cruel fate was once again forcing him to abandon the ones he loved, just like the sister so long ago. His strength was failing him, and despite Key and Isaiah’s awakening, there was little hope for his mate.
Even if Nina were to wake, he doubted he could recover. The psychic network, full of souls who needed his strength, had drawn too deeply from him. The deficit and her absence had cleaved a wound in him that no amount of healing would ever fix.
A battle waged behind Aidan’s eyes. He gave Zeke a devout nod but seemed unable to speak. Lucy, an Elemental woman who was wise beyond her years, wasn’t surprised by the ask.
“We’ll raise them as our own, Zeke.” She reached across to squeeze his hand. “Zak and Eve will be loved and cherished not only by us, but by a community who’ll be dedicated to raising them like you would have. I promise you: they will know how much you and Nina loved them—and how their parents gave their lives for their future.”
Zeke clung to hope that his clan would transition well to Tzuriel and Kaien. With so many people contributing to the effort, and Derikles and Celeste at the helm, he was certain they could succeed. He only had to hang on until the bonds were created—and every moment after that would see their chances improve. If he could only do one last thing, it would be to see to their wellbeing.
Leaving Zak and Eve tore him in two, but he knew that Aidan and Lucy would be phenomenal parents—second best only to him and Nina.
Zeke’s only hope was to see his mate on the other side.
“Thank you both,” he replied, shutting his eyes as the migraine groaned between his temples. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me—to us —that you’ll be taking care of them.”
“It’ll be our honor, Zeke.”
Aidan’s voice, roughened with emotion, sounded too loud. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Zeke tried to shut out the noises. The sound of elephants downstairs—his children—and the faint buzz of the fridge, all of them blared against his senses like a steam train.
The lights were too bright, and the sounds were too loud. Sucking in a breath, he contemplated pressing his hands against his ears in a futile attempt to block everything out.
Kaien’s hand gently rested on his shoulder. The warmth of healing energy poured into him. The well inside him was nearly drained. All of their lieutenants, even Derikles, were supporting the foundation of the network now, and without them, he knew it’d fail.
No one should have to support a sovereign, least of all him. It was only a matter of time before the resulting psychic drought began to affect everyone in his sphere of protection.
As his migraine was slowly combatted by the influx of energy from Kaien, Zeke’s mind cleared slightly. There were things to do while he was still awake and aware.
“Is Nero still here?”
“In here, Zeke,” a voice called. “Almost done. Hold on, I’ll bring them out.”
Slowly opening his eyes, he nodded appreciatively to Kaien, who released him. He ignored his brother-in-law’s concerned looks and strode to the office. The day before, after he’d gathered his lieutenants, he’d asked Nero if he could review the housing plans he’d been drafting. As an architect, Nero’s opinion was vitally important.
The other sovereign attempted a smile. Zeke couldn’t imagine what he looked like—he hadn’t glanced in a mirror in weeks. Perhaps he was too scared to see the man who looked back at him.
“Thoughts?”
“They look good,” Nero replied. “I’ve made a couple of notes on the housing developments’ lots, but all in all, I think this is ready for the Elementals.”
Relief made Zeke breathe deeply. Gideon and a crew of earth Elementals would be helping them prep the land for foundations. From there, a werewolf contracting company would be on site to begin construction.
He would at least leave the clan’s housing situation in order. Nero continued poring over the documents, making minor notes on each, while Zeke looked on. As he stared at Nero, an oddly sentimental feeling swept through him.
“You’ve been a good friend,” he whispered, “to both me and Nina. You took care of her when I couldn’t, and I’ll forever be grateful for that.”
Earthy brown eyes, filled with fear, snapped up to meet his. In the next moment, Nero was swallowing harshly, blinking back tears that Zeke could read all too well.
“You’ll hold them together when we’re gone. You and Eden, Gideon and Aidan.” He nodded, giving the other man a watery smile. “You’re good people.”
A sharp pain stabbed inside his skull, and before he could gasp, he collapsed.
***
Voices were shouting above him. Zeke didn’t move, and he didn’t respond. It was as if he’d lost the ability to process what the voices were saying. His mind had begun fraying at the edges. He was unraveling.
“Sovereign?”
A jumble of consonants and vowels. It took everything to recognize the word. He couldn’t seem to pry open his eyes.
“ Zeke .”
Someone was scrubbing their knuckles along his sternum, attempting to rouse him. No pain filtered into his mind, but then again, the agony of his depleted reserves and the compounding torment of his own spiral into an energy drought was ever-present.
“Zeke!”
Several sets of hands pressed against him, and the warmth of healing waves quickly escalated to a burn. The sharp, biting pain in the center of his mind swiftly became a dull ache. As the confusion subsided, Zeke realized he was laying on the office floor, surrounded by senior healers.
More voices began to clarify around the room, and though he was groggy, Zeke began to understand the conversation. Instructions were being called out, from clan transition support to how Kaien and Tzuriel were going to assume control.
It was then that Zeke recognized what was happening.
Finally. Finally. The pain was ending—and he would see Nina again.
“Zeke?” Kaien’s voice held a note of fear.
Zeke’s eyebrows knitted together in genuine remorse. “I’m sorry, I—I’m sorry.”
Heaving himself into a sitting position, he fought off the tide of nausea associated with the change. Inhaling to center himself, Zeke finally registered that Kaien and Tzuriel were both being tended to by different healers—they needed the energy to take over the clan bonds.
So many had gathered to support them. His death would alleviate the burden from the healers who’d volunteered to be here. Slowly reaching up, he touched Luna’s fingers on his shoulder.
“Help Kaien and Tzuriel now,” he said softly.
There was only a moment’s hesitation, but the second the healers’ hands left him, the pain began to amplify once more. His cause was lost. Nina had always been stronger. She’d always been his better half. Knowing he’d see her in a few minutes was what propelled him through the building agony.
Zeke had never liked his office. It had always felt cramped and cluttered, and he preferred the outdoors where the wind sung, and the trees swayed. The lake had always been one of his favorite places—where he often found Nina playing with their children.
He rose to his feet, ignoring the way his balance wavered, and the healers made a move toward him. Shaking his head, he stumbled toward the door, veering outside as the wind bit into his skin.
The room where Nina lay faced the lake, and though he couldn’t see her, he felt her. If he could choose a spot to die, this would be it. By the lake, surrounded by the presence of his mate.
Though he knew he’d been followed outside, he had no idea who it was. He could no longer discern psychic signatures.
As his energy began to fade, he could weakly sense the others work to uproot the network. For a moment, all he could do was float in a rising tide of disorientation. His knees buckled under him, but he fought against succumbing completely. Any second he could hold on gave them a greater chance for success.
Several hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him as he fell. So many minds brushed against his, the dual sovereignties slipping from his now-porous neural net.
As his mind began to fail, it was all he could do to support their efforts, but it was a losing battle. Agony erupted along the deteriorating ties to his clan, and blood poured from his nose. Through the fog, Zeke could only hope for the end.
His last thought was of Nina.