Chapter 34
SOLEIL
Mid-morning sunlight streamed through a bank of high, trailing clouds, painting The Sombra’s lake in soft gold and muted teal ripples.
A light breeze rolled over the water’s surface, stirring the long grasses and sending slender reeds swaying at the shoreline’s edge.
The earthy scent of pinewood and wet soil lingered in the air.
Soleil walked beside Zev, her pace unhurried as the gravel path curved along the lake’s quiet edge.
This was her third psionic therapy session with the Signet pack’s witty, dashing, and dark-skinned member.
He was broad-shouldered and distractedly handsome, but beneath the charming mask, the winks, and drawled sarcasm, Zev was mystical, psychic, and intense.
He was also the Psi of the Signet pack, their spiritual anchor.
His role wasn’t to break bones like Kaal or draw blood like Santi; it was subtler, deeper as the pack’s enforcer of balance, of spirit, and identity.
He helped his pack mates navigate trauma, emotional fractures, and their connection or disconnection to the lycan soul within.
Now, it was Soleil’s turn.
In soft linen pants and a thick wool-knit wrap slung over her shoulders, her arms folded across her chest, her steps steady.
She kept her gaze ahead as they strolled along.
Her hair was loose, still short but now forming into a short bob of dark brown tinged with red, catching shards of sunlight.
Santi’s lycan spirit had done much of her healing.
His touch, his presence, the way their spirits intertwined together helped to pull her out of her inner wreckage.
What also aided was that with Miral’s assistance, Soleil placed all the schills in the Red Skulls’ bank account into a trust to help victims of the pirates’ past violence.
A big chunk went toward the survivors of Vael’Na’ra and the families affected by Vern and Varnok’s rampage.
As for the rest of the Skulls, they scattered, and the Shrike station was apparently now deserted, according to Miral.
However, these sessions with Zev for Soleil focused on learning how to live again and move forward.
Zev didn’t push her, nor did he offer long-winded lectures.
He just sauntered beside her in companionable silence.
Letting the lake breeze do the coaxing, allowing her to come to her truths on her own and ask the questions her soul needed answers to.
‘How do I exist without shame? How will I face the knowledge that I once wore the title of The Red Queen and used my lycan form to maim and destroy?’
Zev ambled with the ease of a man who’d conquered his inner stillness.
The sleeves of his black tee sat rolled up to his elbows, exposing lean arms inked in spectral glyphs that pulsed now and then with silver light.
His skin glowed under the dappled sun, deep brown and smooth, his features symmetrical and arresting.
His high cheekbones and defined jaw made many women swoon, and his slow, teasing grin hinted at mischief.
However, his timbre when he finally spoke was calm and grounding.
‘You’re stronger than you realize,’ he said. ‘Most don’t get up after what you’ve lived through, let alone walk in a straight line. But here you are.’
Soleil gave a short, uneasy laugh, eyes drifting toward the lake. ‘Here I am,’ she murmured. ‘Still trying to convince myself I deserve to be.’
They kept walking, gravel crunching beneath their boots.
‘I hurt people, Zev. I used my lycan wolf to destroy lives, to maim and kill. Yes, I was being controlled by my uncle. But it was also fueled by my rage, grief, and self-hatred at my circumstances.’
She faltered. ‘I don’t know how to live with that.’
He was silent for a beat, and then he stopped, hands in his pockets as he glanced out over the lake.
‘I’m not going to hand you some fluffy redemption line,’ he rasped. ‘You’re right to grieve. But you’re wrong to assume you’re stuck in your past sins.’
She turned to him.
‘Our shift transformations aren’t immoral in and of themselves, Soleil. They’re instincts, amplified for survival. You were forced to survive in the worst way. That’s not on you. That’s on the people who transformed you into a weapon.’
A tightness released in her chest. ‘Santi has helped. More than he knows. It’s like his lycan spirit wrapped around mine and rescued my soul.’
Zev’s mouth quirked. ‘That sounds about right. His wolf’s the binding kind, he doesn’t let go without a fight.’
They walked on.
‘I still don’t know what to do with it,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t want to shift. I feel sick when I think about it.’
Zev glanced at her sidelong. ‘Then don’t. You don’t have to, ever.’
She blinked at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I can alter your aura and remove the shifter frequency and your transformation link. Poof. Gone forever.’
She stopped cold. ‘You can do that?’
Zev nodded, sliding his hands back into his hooded jacket.
‘It’s part of what I do besides playing the clown for the others. I modify aura alignments. I can also mask or reveal someone’s true lycanthropic levels, purge curses, and clean up soul fractures. Whatever’s needed.’
She stared at him. ‘But lycanthropy cancels psionics, which Xander displays.’
‘That’s limited to Earth-bound lycans,’ he said, shrugging. ‘It doesn’t apply to us. Our potency is not from the planet we left behind. We’re spectral wolves, alien and ancient. Their rules don’t bind us the same way.’
She was quiet for a beat, absorbing his words.
‘So if I wanted,’ she murmured, ‘I could erase this part of myself.’
‘You could,’ he confirmed. ‘I won’t ever do it without your consent, and it’s not reversible. Once it’s gone, it’s lost forever.’
She walked a few steps ahead, the wind catching her hair, and for a moment, she let herself imagine it.
‘Nada,’ she said, turning back to Zev. ‘Sante, but no. I think I’ll take it day by day. I’m learning to choose how I transform into my lycan form. Never again to attack, only to defend, like I did with an old lady on Cybele.’
Zev’s smile deepened, a flicker of approval shining in his eyes. ‘We’re on the same wavelength within the pack,’ he said. ‘None of us shift for domination unless we have to. Most of the time, it is for defense and protection. That’s what makes us Signet. That’s what lends our lycan form nobility.’
She glanced at him, surprised by the gravity of his tone. ‘You’re not just the joker of the group.’
Zev chuckled. ‘Don’t ruin my reputation. I’ve worked many years on my persona.’
She tilted her head and studied him. ‘You’re saying that you’ve crafted a mask so that most overlook the deeper complexity beneath your smirking exterior.’
‘I let people underestimate me so they never know what I’m capable of, which is fokkin’ up their shit.’
She laughed, the sound light and real.
They rounded a bend in the path, the lake glittering beside them, the sky widening overhead. She tucked her hair behind one ear and exhaled.
‘I appreciate your time, Zev.’
He glanced at her and jerked his chin, his eyes warm with kindness. ‘Anytime, Red.’
‘Is that what you’re calling me now?’ she chided with a smile.
He laughed. ‘Suits ya.’
With a laugh, they walked on, the wind whipped leaves into the air, whispering secrets to the emerald trees lining the lagoon.
Later that day, Soleil pushed the heavy maintenance door open with her hip, expertly balancing a large, foil-covered tray.
The air in the tiny office was scented with cleaning solvents and fresh-brewed coffee, and was thick with the rhythmic, dull clicking of data pad keys.
‘Surprise, bitches,’ she announced, her voice pitched to cut through the noise.
Astra, Zima, and Wren looked up simultaneously.
A stunned silence lasted precisely half a second before all three scrambled out of their chairs, launching toward her.
Astra, her wild hair flying, got there first, pulling her into a crushing hug that nearly dislodged the pastry tray.
‘Soleil! Where the hell have you been?’ Zima cried. ‘We thought you’d deserted us for the luxury decks!’
Wren, her boss, hung back a moment, his stern expression softening into a genuine smile. ‘I was about to file a missing person report, young lady. Did the XO finally lock you in his quarters?’
‘Only temporarily,’ she joked, her heart swelling with a warmth that felt dangerous and good.
She set the tray down with a flourish, waving her hand over the custard tarts, blueberry muffins, and rich, dark chocolate scones. ‘I brought peace offerings. I needed a little space to think through a few things. Life’s been complicated.’
The word ‘complicated’ was an enormous understatement, a blanket term for evading security, breaching the ship, and subsequently becoming entangled with the second-in-command of the entire flotilla.
She caught Wren’s eye, making sure her gratitude was plain.
‘Sante, boss. Your support is appreciated.’
Along with Santi, Wren had ensured the entire records system remained blissfully unaware of her unauthorized activities.
Wren, privy to the chain of command, gave a knowing, tight nod, accepting the praise.
The four colleagues settled around the office dining table, pouring strong, dark tea and thick, spiced kahawa, and indulging in the baked fare while talking animatedly between satisfying mouthfuls of pastry.
‘Well, you missed a broken pipe and flooding disaster in Sector Seven, but the good news is you’re back!’ Astra exclaimed, reaching for a second muffin. ‘You look great, Soleil. Must be nice to take a vacation whenever you feel like it because your man runs the place.’
‘I’ll try not to abuse the privilege,’ Soleil quipped.
‘Are you back with us, then?’ Wren asked, taking a careful sip from his mug. ‘The work is piling up, and frankly, Astra’s scrubbing technique is substandard.’
‘Fokk off,’ came the quick reply from the woman in question, along with a middle finger thrust in his face.
They all laughed.
Soleil nodded, picking apart her custard tart. ‘I am. I intend to pull my weight all the way to Pegasi. I actually miss the cleaning work, believe it or not.’