Allegiance of Honor (Psy-Changeling #15) - Nalini Singh Page 0,140
ran colder, they were one. The traitors didn’t count, would be eliminated the instant Miane confirmed their identities. All the others . . . they were one, because water was life and they were united in protecting that precious resource.
As they were united by their very otherness.
When it came to BlackSea’s alpha, she needed to function the same way as the alpha of any other changeling pack. Miane had to hold her people together, make sure they had what they needed for their souls to bloom and to stay strong. For Persephone, a little girl who’d been kept captive in a small room for months, torn away from her mother after having already lost her father, that meant a party to celebrate the birthday she’d spent alone and scared and far from home.
Persephone didn’t know the date was wrong; she just knew it was her birthday party.
Miane scooped the still-thin child up into her arms while instinctively maintaining her balance on the gently rocking platform in the center of the floating city that was BlackSea’s heart. There were a number scattered around the world, but Lantia was the biggest, and it was where they held the Conclave on alternate years.
To the world, the Conclave was the ruling group of BlackSea. In truth, it wasn’t a thing but an event—a yearly gathering of as many of BlackSea’s people as could make it. The reason for not always holding it at Lantia wasn’t in fact the water temperature, as outsiders might assume. All healthy BlackSea changelings could survive and thrive in such waters—the ocean, after all, was deep and sweetly cold no matter where you were on Earth.
No, the reason the Conclave switched location between Lantia and Cifica in the tropics, was that it wasn’t fair to always ask packmates from that side of the world to do the traveling.
Persephone and her mother had both missed the last Conclave, had been trapped and alone at that time. As Leila was now.
Forcing back her anger once again, Miane said, “You look like a princess,” to the child in her arms.
Giggling, Persephone fluffed at the pink tulle that cascaded over Miane’s arm. “Mama present.” It was more than she usually said; her speech wasn’t what it should be for her age, the trauma she’d suffered having left more than one mark, but the pack’s healers assured Miane that Persephone was healing.
Children are far more resilient than we give them credit for, their strongest healer had said. Surround her in love, keep her safe, give her the space and freedom to talk about what happened, and Persephone will overcome this, grow into the strong, unique individual she was always meant to be.
Miane could do that, was doing that.
“Your mama gives good presents.” Miane was so damn proud of Persephone’s mother. Olivia had lost her mate at the hands of the murderous bastards who’d taken their small family, and for many changelings, that would’ve been a fatally crippling blow.
That didn’t even factor in Olivia’s torture and imprisonment.
But instead of curling up and dying, the other woman had pulled herself together with a fierce strength of will.
“For our baby,” Olivia had said to Miane while still bruised and battered from her ordeal. “For the baby Cary and I created together in cool waters off the coast of New Zealand.” Tears had been thick in her voice, tears she refused to shed. “I’ll never allow her to feel lost and alone and scared again.”
“I know.” Miane had taken Olivia into her arms, held her close for a long time, until the dam had crashed open, until Olivia had cried brokenly for her lost mate. “I have not a single doubt that you’ll be strong for Persephone,” Miane had said afterward. “But you come to me when you need to grieve—and remember that she needs to grieve, too.”
Persephone might be a baby, only two years old, but she’d been a daddy’s girl. “Talk to her about her father,” Miane had advised her wounded packmate the week after Persephone’s rescue by the Arrows, “answer her questions, and if it gets too hard, you come to me.”
Miane had stayed awake with Olivia that entire night. They’d watched Persephone sleep and then, when Olivia was ready, she’d spoken about the day of the kidnapping, about how she and Persephone had been forcibly separated from Cary, who’d been strong, had fought hard to protect his mate and child . . . and about how Olivia had known when Cary was murdered.