Chapter 36 - Above Cursed Winds

The hurricane-level winds no longer vibrated the clan buildings, nor did the rain pelt against the shingles. Sunlight lit their yards, illuminating what little damage had occurred before Jeremiah’s astonishing display of power.

The able-bodied Raeths were busy clearing debris, while the new mothers stayed inside and coddled vulnerable younglings.

Zia’s home was quiet. Myko, still asleep in his room, hadn’t stirred at all when she’d gone in to check on him.

She had taken the living room couch last night. Sleeping in her bed—with Jeremiah—had seemed out of place given her venomous words only the day before. He hadn’t deserved them, and more than ever she wanted to right that wrong.

Warmth transferred from her mug of tea into her fingers while she leisurely sipped the beverage. Soon, Myko would be awake, and then she’d broach the subject of training with Isaiah. Hopefully, her son would agree, and they could begin lessons as soon as the other sovereign was available. It’d go a long way to remedy the solitude Myko had endured.

She registered the incoming presence with a cringe. Sehrin had all but disappeared over the last few days, and now, he hadn’t even asked to enter her home before teleporting into it.

“Zia.”

Griding her teeth, she pivoted to face him. “Sehrin.”

For a beat, she simply studied him. A strong face, roguishly handsome—or so she’d thought at one time. Slightly wavy dark hair brushed back from his features, and the patrician angle of his jaw set beneath high cheekbones. Sehrin was a study in outward perfection, but it was what he held inside that turned Zia’s stomach.

Those dashing brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and moved forward into her personal space. “I make no excuse for my behavior with Jeremiah the other day. I’ll own it as surely as night is dark, but you must know, he’s encroaching on my territory, and I was—understandably—upset.”

“Your territory?” Zia scoffed, putting down her mug to cross her arms. “And what territory is that, exactly?”

“You. Myko. You are my family, and this is my home.” A hint of hostility slid behind his eyes. “I won’t let anyone take that from me.”

“Your family. Your home.” Allowing a scathing laugh to escape, Zia’s eyes slit maliciously. “When did that start? Because you abandoned Myko for the first four years of his life and have been here only a handful of times since.”

Invading her personal space without realizing the irony, Sehrin cocked his head. “It starts now. My son—our son—deserves for us to try.”

“Absolutely not.” Zia was adamant, altogether done with the man before her. “My son deserves a father that cares enough about him to stick around. The only reason you came back was because your convenient ‘arrangement’ was on the line. You feared that your casual fling might become a never fling.” Zia moved forward, forcing him to cede a step back. “I’m done being your second choice. My son and I are not your backup. We’re over. When you come to the island to see Myko, you’ll have to find alternate accommodation.”

Sehrin’s eyes flashed. “You’re kicking me out of our house?”

“My house, Sehrin. It’s never been yours, regardless of how much you think it should be. If you’d wanted to put down roots, if you’d have taken more of an interest in your son than a passing fancy whenever it was convenient, if you’d treated either of us better, we’d be having a very different discussion.”

Stiffening, the clanless Raeth puffed his chest. “This is about him, isn’t it? This red-haired jack who’s pulled the wool over your eyes?”

“That ‘red-haired jack’ has taken more of an interest in your son than you ever did!” Yelling now, Zia’s psychic energy began to lash out with her escalating emotions, and she could see the mental shielding Sehrin hastily erected against it. “When was the last time you coached him at soccer? Or showed him how to tighten a cabinet door? Played video games with him and let him win? Do you even know when his birthday is?”

Throwing up her hands, she sneered at him. “Unlike you, Jeremiah is kind and patient with Myko. In less than a week, he’s done more for that boy that you ever have.”

“You’re rooting for the wrong team, sweetheart.” The endearment was spoken like a curse. “Myko is as much my son as he is yours.”

“He’s your son only because you share blood. You may be his biological father, but you have a long way to go in order to be his dad.” Zia had had enough. “Leave before I make you leave.”

Sehrin leveled her with an intense gaze, the potent sting of his vitriol lacing the air. When he bared his teeth at her, attempting to make further conversation, a mental broadcast from Nero to the entire clan—and their visitors—cut their conversation short.

Mercenaries are approaching clan lands from inland; take immediate precautionary measures. Mothers with newborn children should immediately convene at the predetermined armored shelters. Any soldiers fit for battle need to respond to my call.

And then, Nero spoke directly to her. Zia, take Myko to Luna’s shelter, then meet me on the Wall.

Of course, sovereign.

She glanced at Sehrin with equal parts desperation and reluctance. “Will you stay with Myko?”

“He won’t have to.” The harsh tones of Jeremiah’s voice interrupted their conversation. “I’ll stay with Myko.”

Sehrin’s face transformed into a mask of rage. “No one can protect my son better than I can. I’m not leaving until I know that my family is safe.”

“Good,” came the Elemental’s reply. “Then we can both make sure Myko stays unharmed.” Turning to Zia, Jeremiah’s features tightened. “Be safe, Zia. Call me if you need backup.”

A malicious chuckle from Sehrin. “What help could you offer her? If I heard correctly, you’re powerless, Elemental.”

“No one is powerless, Sehrin,” Jeremiah replied, “not even the humans you believe are so far beneath us.”

Assured Myko would be safe, Zia bolted up the stairs to grab her son. With a few murmured words of apology, she grabbed his hand and pivoted to the two men who’d arrived behind her.

“Myko, you’re to stay with Jeremiah and your father—do not leave their side, Boo.”

Fearful indigo eyes watched her as she teleported a bulletproof vest in his size into her hands and shoved it over his chest.

“Come on, baby, we’ve got to go.”

Grabbing his hand, she caught Jeremiah’s eye. The extra kick of adrenaline fueled her psychic senses, empowering her to teleport all four of them into Luna’s shelter where the healer was waiting with several other mothers.

“Luna, keep him safe.” Crouching, she hugged her son close, then pressed a desperate kiss to his forehead. “I love you very much, Myko.”

When she straightened, it was to see that both men regarded her with nothing less than sheer determination—a resolve to keep Myko safe. “Take care of my son.”

With one last rueful look at the boy, and after locking eyes with Jeremiah’s crystalline gaze in gratitude, she teleported to Nero’s signature.

The Wall was a rocky natural barrier that’d been erected by a Raeth with the power of Bloom several hundred years ago. A monument to their power, humans had taken it for a naturally occurring phenomenon when it was anything but.

The sole purpose of the wall was to ward off any untoward visitors, like those advancing on their clan lands with weapons designed to kill her kind. Zia growled low in her throat, and Nero gave her a sidelong glance.

“Like old times, my friend?”

A chuckle threatened to spill from her sneering lips. There was a reason she had been chosen for Nero’s second. Other than the lengthy history they shared, their abilities complemented each other. When they’d been young, their then-sovereign had taken great pleasure in challenging them with feigned attacks and training scenarios. Nero and Zia would easily counter any assault that came their way.

Behind them, Key, Nolan, and Zayn settled into defensive positions. While Nero and Zia could easily remove the threats that came first, occasionally one or two slipped through.

“Nolan, secure the sea,” Nero barked. “If we have anyone arriving by boat, I don’t want us taken unaware.”

Key chimed in, “There will be no unanticipated attack from the sea, sovereign. He may be better served here.”

“Fine.” A clipped word from their sovereign, the massive male rolling his muscular shoulders as if to ward off the mounting pressure. “Nolan, cover the dome; there are too many young there to leave them without extra support.”

That was when the enemy appeared over the horizon. Palm trees and brush parted to reveal the impending mercenaries. Their guns were drawn. Twenty, thirty, then forty silhouettes. The escalating situation sparked a fire within Zia.

Nero didn’t waste another minute.

An oppressive force battered against her psychic shielding, the taste of it familiar but unfriendly. Nero’s initial weapon of choice was always wielding the enemy’s own emotions against them.

A taste of fear bombarded her senses. Although it wasn’t aimed at her, Zia grappled with the residual heat of the transfer, the psychic signatures of the mortals before them twisting into panic, terror, and dread.

Half of them turned tail and ran before Zia could even grasp ahold of their minds. As it was, mortals were simple to manipulate, but after Nero played with their emotional states, it made it mind-numbingly easy.

Grinning, she let her Psyche abilities out of the bag.

Given free roam, they latched onto the first human minds with insatiable lust. It wasn’t long before she’d taken control of every human’s perception.

Currently, she made them believe they were in a dark room, hogtied on the ground, when they were truly standing still among the palm trees of her clan lands.

As soon as Nero knew Zia had them tapped, the rippling shift overtook him. Transforming into a sleek black panther, the enraged cat that was her sovereign leapt over the wall with a single bound, loosening a guttural roar that struck fear into the hearts of anyone who’d been listening.

Zia let those mercenaries hear it. She wanted them to know their death was coming.