“He can’t! No being has such power!” the cyan male shouted. I didn’t miss the hint of fear in his voice.
“Oh yes, he can,” Oeta purred. “My species is known for our mental abilities, and the longer we live, the stronger we get. My father has been alive so long that he saw most CEG species' first attempts at space travel.
“So try me,” she taunted. “Because now I have your mental signature. If you ever enter CEG space in ethereal or physical form, be prepared to die.”
“This isn’t over!”
“I think it is. You see, I knew you would be tempted to reach out to Selena again, so I volunteered to watch over her. Now that I know you are desperate to capture her, I will never let you contact her again. Any attempts at communication will be blocked. If you value your life, you won’t try.”
“I’ll find a way to outwit you, and when I do, I will make sure you don’t forget it!”
“Can I have a name to go with this threat? You know, for future’s sake, when we kill you.”
“Xenak of the Verya,” he chuckled. “Remember that when I come for her.”
“I dare you. And when you do, know that you will be hunted by Oeta of the Nyaviel.”
“I will see you again, Selena,” Xenak mocked. “Give my regards to your mates.”
In a flash, he was gone, leaving me alone and drained from the encounter.
“Selena,” Oeta comforted, her glowing sphere nearing my form. “There is much to do and so much to explain. But first, are you well?”
“Honestly, no.” My gaze roamed my shared void, wondering where Zirene was and why he hadn’t appeared. The doors to my nestmates’ void chambers had been left intact, each colored like its member’s mental threads—Xylo’s teal, Odelm’s pale green, V’dim’s turquoise, and Z’fir’s emerald. The almost-healed crack Xenak’s cyan thread had left when we first spoke had been opened once again, and Oeta’s fuchsia-black thread still snaked through the gap. “Zirene and I had almost repaired our walls.”
“Xenak damaged them?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Now we have to heal it again, and with Zirene leaving soon, I’m afraid of what will become of it until his return.”
“I can see the problem,” she murmured. “Let me attempt to coax your wall to recover faster. Once we’ve checked on your physical form, I will ask my father for further advice.”
“He’s not going to force me to return to the CEG space station, is he?”
“No, of course not,” she comforted. “He may request that we visit him—or vice versa—sometime soon, but we all know you’re safer on Destima than anywhere else in the galaxy.”
“Not safe enough, it seems,” I muttered, disheartened.
“Don’t let that deranged male make you doubt your security,” she consoled. “He would’ve found you no matter where you were in the galaxy, it seems. Try not to worry. I have his mental identity, and once I transfer the signature to my father, Xenak of the Verya won’t be able to enter the galaxy in any form and survive. No one messes with the people he’s sworn to protect, without exception.”
Before I could reply, she was gone.
The only evidence that anything had transpired within my shared void chamber was the reopened crack along the wall.
Sighing, I willed myself back into my physical form, hoping Odelm wouldn’t blame himself for this disastrous evening.
Chapter Eleven V’dim
One moment he was planning his dinner date with Z’fir with the villa’s kitchen staff, and the next, he felt a disturbance in their clan’s mental web.
“Selena! No!” Odelm’s mental shout sliced through the Circuli clan’s constant mental hum, nearly knocking him off his stool. Z’fir caught him, preventing him from hitting his head on the floor.
Within a moment, his nestqueen’s presence had moved from the general vicinity of the performance hall—where Odelm had planned to take her for his date—to the villa’s infirmary.
Instantly, V’dim jumped out of his seat. Z’fir wordlessly followed him to where Selena’s body lay. Xylo was already connecting her to machines as his team filed in to assist.
Kaede was yelling at Zirene and his sisters over his wristband in a virtual meeting, not caring who heard about the state he’d found Selena in the auditorium.
Odelm sat in the seating area, his coloring a terrified white as his body shook uncontrollably.
V’dim could barely handle the force of extreme emotions radiating within the room, not due to inexperience, but the strength of his connections as an Ulax prince and nestbrother to his clan. He had direct access to each individual’s aura, which was making it harder to control his own.
Kaede’s aura screamed an angry red, so bright that V’dim was afraid its radiance might burn him. Surprisingly, Xylo’s emotions—along with his small crew’s—were tightly controlled, as if their professional training prevented them from turning anything more than a slightly worried orange. An emotional healer was a poor one, as they risked the lives of their patients. The most distracting emotional presence in the room was his fellow Ulax, Odelm. V’dim suspected he was dealing with what he had witnessed at the concert hall.
“I will reach out to Oeta and see if Kaede can teleport her here. It might be worthwhile to give her one of the villa’s extra
