Chapter 15
Selena
Darkness.
Velvet-thick and endless, wrapping around me like a cocoon. The last thing I remembered was Odelm’s arms, Xylo’s steady presence, the bone-deep exhaustion finally winning its war against my stubborn will to stay awake.
Then nothing.
Until the darkness began to shift.
Color bled into the void—deep blues and purples at first, then bursts of vibrant color.
The ground solidified beneath my feet. Warm air kissed my skin, carrying the salt-sweet scent of my lavender ocean.
And above me, spreading across the sky like scattered diamonds, stars emerged one by one until the heavens blazed with light.
The familiar tropical paradise of my dreamscape surrounded me.
I stood on the porch of the villa that overlooked the island, leaning against the stone railing as I listened to the peaceful sounds of the lilac waves crashing onto the white sand shore below.
The gentle cadence soothed something deep in my chest—that constant, gnawing ache I carried in the waking world.
Colorful plant life glowed softly under the starlight, bioluminescent blooms painting the darkness with touches of gold and teal and pale green.
Peace.
True, absolute peace.
Here, in this private sanctuary that existed only between Zirene’s mind and mine, everything else fell away.
The bonds to my other mates—those constant threads of awareness that hummed through my consciousness every waking moment—had gone silent.
Not severed. Never that. But muted into nothing, as if they existed in another universe entirely.
No Kaede. No V’dim or Z’fir. No Xylo or Odelm or Zyxel or Ryzen.
No war. No politics. No weight of duty pressing down on my shoulders.
Just this. Just silence. Just the waves and the stars and the warm breeze stirring my silver hair.
I drew in a slow breath, letting the quiet sink into my bones.
In the waking world, I’d forgotten what it felt like to exist without the constant awareness of six other souls connected to mine.
The hum of the web had become so familiar I barely noticed it anymore—until it was gone, and the absence felt like finally setting down a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.
My body was lighter here too. Unburdened by the pregnancy that made every movement feel like negotiation. In dreams, I could lean against this railing without my back aching, without the burden of my body’s new changes weighing on me.
In dreams, I was only Selena.
The air behind me shifted.
I didn’t turn—didn’t need to. I felt him the way I always felt him in this place, like gravity changing, like the universe itself rearranging to accommodate his presence. The darkness at my back grew deeper, more absolute, and then—
Shadow flame.
It licked up from the stone floor in tendrils of living night, coiling and twisting, taking shape with deliberate slowness. First the broad shoulders. Then the powerful chest. The long legs, the commanding posture, the face I’d memorized in a thousand stolen moments.
Zirene materialized from the shadows like a piece of night given form.
He looked exactly as he had when he’d left me—black hair bound and precise, armor gleaming, amethyst eyes burning with that intensity that had made him feared across the galaxy long before I’d stumbled into his world.
My Shadow. My Sovereign.
But the dreamscape couldn’t hide everything.
Even as the shadows finished their work and he stood before me fully formed, I saw what the war was doing to him.
Exhaustion carved deep lines around his eyes.
His shoulders held tension that hadn’t been there during the Harvest Festival—a coiled readiness that spoke of battles fought and battles yet to come.
The shadows that comprised his true form flickered at the edges, less controlled than I remembered, fragments of darkness drifting from him like smoke from a dying fire.
Battle-worn. Stretched thin. Running on will alone.
My heart cracked.
“Nova.”
His voice wrapped around the word like a prayer: rough, reverent, desperate. It was the title he’d given me—rare for his people—the position in his life that meant light and hope and everything soft that he’d thought he’d never have.
I turned from the railing.
He crossed the distance in three strides, shadows trailing behind him, and then his arms were around me.
He crushed me against his chest with a ferocity that stole my breath—not gentle, not careful.
The embrace of a male who’d been starving and finally found sustenance, who’d been drowning and finally found air.
His fingers dug into my back like he was afraid I’d dissolve if he didn’t hold tight enough. A tremor ran through his frame—so slight another might have missed it.
I didn’t miss it.
I buried my face in his mane and inhaled.
In the dreamscape, touch felt real. Not quite the same as physical contact—there was something slightly ephemeral about it, like holding smoke that chose to be solid.
But his warmth seeped into my skin anyway.
His heartbeat thundered against mine—too fast, too hard, proof of how much this separation was costing him.
And his scent, that dark blend of midnight and power that was uniquely him, flooded my senses until the rest of existence ceased to matter.
Here, there was no one else. Nothing else.
Just us.
“Tell me,” I said. “Everything.”
“You feel different,” he murmured, the words rumbling through his chest and into my bones. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair, grounding and familiar. “Stronger.”
“I’m going to have Ryzen train me,” I said quietly. Not a question. A decision. I leaned back just enough to meet his gaze—those endless shadows lit by starlight, seeing far too much. “I need to be stronger. Prepared. I need to be able to reach all of you—no matter the distance.”
He studied my face for a long beat. Then, softer, “Just don’t overdo it.” A pause. “Kaede mentioned… a connection. With Ryzen.”
I didn’t look away. “He was spiraling,” I said simply. “He needed saving. And I was the only one who could reach him. That’s all it was. Nothing more.”
Zirene huffed, a sound caught somewhere between resignation and knowing. “I know what nothing more usually means.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “And I know there’s something there. You’ve said as much.”
I felt the tension coil in my chest, tight and tired. “I’m so tired of fighting everything,” I admitted. “Every pull. Every instinct. I just… want to let things happen sometimes. Trust myself. Even if it gets me into trouble.”
His forehead rested against mine, breath warm, steady. “It always does,” he said quietly. Not a rebuke. An understanding. “But those instincts are why you’re still standing. Why we all are.”
I closed my eyes, letting the moment hold. For once, not arguing. Just choosing to be.
We moved to the gazebo on the beach, settling onto the cushioned seats that overlooked the lilac waves. The stars wheeled slowly overhead—a sky that never changed, never clouded, existed only for us. Zirene kept me tucked against his side like he was afraid I’d dissolve if he stopped touching me.
Here, in this peaceful space, the war felt distant. Unreal. Like a story happening to someone else.
But the evidence of it was written all over him.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
We’d shifted to lie side by side on the gazebo’s cushions, limbs intertwined. The sea breeze dried the sweat from our skin—or what passed for sweat in dreams—and the lilac waves continued their patient rhythm below.
Zirene’s hand traced lazy patterns on my hip. “Anything.”
I propped myself on one elbow to study his face. A softness was there, but his eyes were alert, watching me with that intensity that always made me feel like he could see straight through to my soul.
“When I’m training with Ryzen,” I began carefully, “he’s been teaching me to extend my mental reach. To strengthen and maintain connections across distance.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I want to practice with you.”
His paw stilled on my hip.
“During my lessons, during my practice—I want to reach for you.” I held his gaze. “Would you accept my mental thread? Would you let me in?”
Something shifted in his expression. Not refusal—I knew refusal, knew the hard set of his jaw when he was about to deny me something for my own protection. This was different. Hesitation. Wariness.
Fear.
“Selena...”
“If you won’t let me bind myself to you any deeper—” I pushed forward, “—would you at least allow our minds to connect? Truly connect? Not just this dreamscape, but while I’m awake? While you’re fighting?”
The silence stretched between us, filled only by the crash of waves and the cry of distant seabirds. His shadows flickered at his edges, betraying an agitation his face was trying to hide.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Yes.” The word was rough. “I’ll accept your thread. I’ll let you reach for me.”
Relief flooded through me—but it was short-lived. Because I saw what lurked in his eyes. The worry. The dread. Something that looked almost like shame.
“Why do you hesitate?” I touched his cheek, drawing his gaze back to mine when it tried to slide away. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”
His jaw worked. Shadows curled tighter around his form, and for a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer. That he’d deflect with command, distract with touch, or simply refuse to give voice to whatever haunted him.
But we’d promised each other honesty. Always honesty, even when it hurt.
“I’m worried,” he said finally, “about what you’ll feel from me.”
The admission hung in the night air between us. His eyes searched mine, looking for—what? Judgment? Fear? The realization that she’d bonded a monster and only now understood what that meant?