Chapter 6 #2
Selena’s gaze found Xylo across the landing pad. The full force of their bond crashed into him—relief, love, desperate gratitude, the bone-deep need to be held by someone who understood.
He moved before he could think, closing the distance in long strides. Odelm matched his pace on one side. When they reached her, Xylo didn’t hesitate—he pulled her into his arms and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Nestqueen.” The word came out rough. He cleared his throat. “You’re home.”
“I’m home.” Her voice wavered, and her fingers dug into his mossy shoulders. “Stars, Xylo. It’s been...”
“I know.” He cupped her face, tilting it so he could examine her properly. Pallor beneath the spots. Faint tremor in her muscles. The signs of someone who’d been running on adrenaline and willpower for too long. “When did you last eat? Sleep?”
A weak laugh escaped her. “Are you healing me or interrogating me?”
“Both. Always both.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger.
Through their bond, he sent warmth, stability, the quiet promise that he would hold her steady no matter how hard the storm blew.
“The kitchen prepared your favorites. A bath is waiting. And the nestbed has fresh sheets.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“Preparation is how I love.”
Her spots flared pink—true pink, warm and soft, the color of happiness bleeding through exhaustion. “I know it is.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. “Thank you.”
Odelm moved in on her other side, arms wrapping around both of them. “We’ve missed you,” he murmured against her hair. “The villa’s been too quiet without you.”
The cubs reattached themselves to Selena’s legs, giggling as she reached down to ruffle their fur. Even Meti pressed close, her usual guardedness softening in the relief of homecoming.
For one perfect moment, the war didn’t exist. The Verya threat faded to background noise. Zirene’s impending departure became tomorrow’s problem. There was only this—his nestqueen in his arms, his bondbrother at his side, the cubs safe and whole, the clan reunited on Destima’s familiar ground.
Home.
Xylo held onto the moment, knowing it couldn’t last.
The clan moved toward the villa as a single unit, Selena at its center. Zirene’s shadow wrapped around her like a living shield. Kaede flanked her left, psydaggers dormant but ready. V’dim and Z’fir bracketed the rear, their presence a wall against anything that might approach from behind.
Zyxel walked apart, not quite in the formation, not quite outside it. Finding his place.
Behind him, the others who went on their journey, along with the Aldawi female, Eshe, who’d fought to become Selena’s Captain of her new Beacon Royal Guard.
This was what they’d built. Seven males orbiting a single star, each in their designated position, each serving their purpose in the greater whole. It functioned beautifully—a system designed to protect, to support, to love in all the ways their nestqueen needed.
And tomorrow, it would fracture.
Zirene would leave with the ShadowClaw. V’dim and Z’fir would follow within days.
The constellation Selena had built so carefully—woven together thread by thread, bond by bond, with patience and love and stubborn refusal to let any of them go—would scatter across the Aldawi Empire while war raged at the borders.
Xylo couldn’t heal that wound. No compound in his medical wing could knit together a family torn apart by circumstance. All he could do was tend the pieces that remained.
And prepare for the injuries yet to come.
“You’re thinking loudly,” Odelm murmured.
“Occupational hazard.” Xylo’s gaze tracked Selena ahead of them—the way she leaned into Zirene, the way her hand reached back to brush Kaede’s arm, the constant small touches that anchored her to her mates. “She’s going to struggle when he leaves.”
“She’s stronger than most give her credit for.”
“Strength doesn’t prevent pain. It just helps you survive it.” Xylo’s jaw tightened. “We need to be her foundation. Her stability. Whatever she needs to get through what’s coming.”
“That’s what we’ve always been.”
True. From the beginning, the Favored had served this purpose—not as warriors, not as rulers, but as anchors.
The ones who held her steady when the galaxy tried to pull her apart.
The ones who loved without demanding, supported without competing, gave everything and asked only for her happiness in return.
Tonight, that role mattered more than ever.
They reached the villa’s entrance, and the cubs scattered toward their rooms with promises of baths and dinner. The household staff materialized to take luggage, offer refreshments, perform the thousand small tasks that kept the Beacon’s home running smoothly.
Selena paused at the threshold.
The rest of the clan continued inside—Zirene murmuring to Kaede about security protocols, V’dim and Z’fir discussing fleet logistics, Zyxel trailing uncertainly behind. But Selena turned, and her gaze found Xylo.
She caught his hand.
“Tonight,” she said quietly, her ocean-deep eyes holding his. “I need all of you.”
Xylo’s thumb traced across her knuckles. “You always have us.”
“Not as the Beacon.” Her voice cracked at the edges. “Not as their queen. Not as the woman the galaxy expects me to be.” She drew a shaky breath. “Just as Selena. Can we have that? Just one night before everything falls apart?”
The weight of her request settled into his bones. Not a demand—never that, not from her. A plea. A need she rarely let herself voice, from the female who spent every waking moment carrying the hopes of species and the burdens of empire.
Tonight, she wanted to set that weight down. Tonight, she wanted to be held instead of holding everyone else together.
Xylo lifted her hand to his lips. Pressed a kiss to her knuckles—slow, reverent, a promise sealed against her skin.
“We can have whatever you need, nestqueen.” His voice dropped low, intimate, meant only for her. “Always.”