Valentin didn’t know how to stop loving someone.
Ena inclined her head very slightly in acknowledgment.
Ashaya’s voice broke the silence filled with an unspoken understanding between an alpha bear and an alpha Psy. “The possible total loss of her emotions is why we discussed a remedial option with her.”
The surgeon was more blunt in his response. “I seeded her brain with fine biofusion tendrils . . . though I think filament is the better term in this case, because these aren’t offshoots of a larger biofusion implant.”
Valentin didn’t like the sound of any of that. “Why?” It came out so deep, he saw Dr. Bashir wince.
“The filaments integrate into the brain,” Ashaya said, “become fused to it. Samuel and Dr. Bashir both saw the effect in the brain of another patient.”
“You two need to be clearer,” Ena said, her tone flat.
“In the course of his continuing work on creating a prosthetic—”
“—for Vasic Zen,” Ena interrupted. “I assume the experimental biofusion gauntlet left the Arrow with artefacts in his brain that make ordinary options difficult. Why does any of that matter in Silver’s case?”
“Because,” Ashaya said, not taking Ena to task for having that privileged information, “Samuel inadvertently made a breakthrough that means his new second-generation filaments respond to conscious commands.”
Valentin would be the first to admit he was no scientific mastermind, but he could put two and two together. “These things will let Silver, what, create new conduits?”
Dr. Bashir gave a hard nod, his dark eyes shining with a scientific fervor that told Valentin he’d enthusiastically embraced the fall of Silence. “With how untried the filaments are, the risk wouldn’t be worth it to most people, but Silver’s situation is unique—and she was adamant.”
Valentin had no doubts at all about the latter. His Starlight knew her own mind. Always had. Always would.
“For example,” Dr. Bashir continued, “if we did inadvertently damage her telepathic channels, she should be able to reintegrate them.” The older man drew in the air with his hands. “We seeded her entire brain with the filaments—she has the materials to create bridges wherever necessary.”
“Since Silver is more than smart enough not to want her audio telepathy back, that connection shouldn’t be made.” Ena stared at Ashaya rather than the surgeon. “Exactly how experimental are these filaments in my granddaughter’s brain?”
“No ordinary medic would ever think of using them,” the scientist said frankly. “The only reason we even offered Silver the option was the minor but possible risk of damage to her telepathy.”
Ena continued to watch Ashaya without blinking. But Ashaya Aleine was mated to a very dominant leopard for a reason. She had the same kind of steel as Valentin’s Starlight.
Not flinching under Ena’s icy regard, she said, “Samuel has been obsessively testing the new filaments since he discovered what they can do. To ensure their safety, Dr. Bashir didn’t insert anything like a battery into Silver’s brain, nothing that would create energy or reroute her own energy to the filaments.”
She paused, her eyes going from Ena to Valentin. When neither one of them interrupted, she continued, “That means it’ll take intense focus on Silver’s part to use the filaments, but it also means that if they fail, they’ll simply lie dormant.”
“How sure are you of that?” Valentin demanded, fighting the urge to grab the surgeon and scientist both and shake them for offering Starlight such a reckless choice. Didn’t the idiots know that his Silver was a risk-taker? She hid it well under that cool, composed exterior, but his mate had a wild streak in her.
Look how she’d ended up in bed with a bear.
Dr. Bashir took a step back, his excitement fading under the force of Valentin’s silent fury. “The only risk,” he managed to say, “is that long-term, their presence might cause a reaction in the brain. Silver knew that, accepted it.”
Squaring his shoulders, the doctor cautiously returned to his previous position. “I’ve seen dormant first-generation filaments in another brain—Vasic Zen’s, since Mercants apparently know everything, exactly as rumored,” he added sourly. “I have no qualms in saying the danger is negligible. The brain doesn’t seem to notice them unless they’re active.”
Valentin glared at the surgeon, even as hope bounced up inside his heart like a hyperactive puppy. “Let me get this straight—if Silver chooses to feel emotion, she could do it without risk?”
It was Ashaya who answered. “As she’ll be able to sense and test her own psychic pathways in a way no surgeon can, she could conceivably reconnect the emotional network to the rest of her brain without reconnecting the audio telepathy.”
“Like a road built around a swamp,” Dr. Bashir dared put in. “It’d still be there, but safely isolated.”
“Or that’s how it’s supposed to work.” Ashaya, her face drawn, slid her hands into the pockets of her surgical smock. “It’s an experiment, but it’s the best chance we could give her.”
“I can see her in the Honeycomb.” Ena’s frigid voice. “How is that possible?”
“Her brother ensured the connection didn’t fail during the operation, though I don’t know the technical details of how,” Ashaya replied. “Once she’s conscious, she’ll know it’s in her best interest not to resist it. It should ameliorate the danger of sociopathy arising from a total lack of emotion.”
Valentin thought of Arwen’s smile when Silver had hugged him right before the operation, of the puppyish way the slick Psy male hung on his sister’s every word. He’d be devastated by the change in her, now that he’d seen who she could be with emotion. But, as it did to Valentin, Silver’s life meant far more to Arwen than his own happiness or sense of loss.
The only reason he wasn’t waiting with Ena and Valentin was because he was covering for Ena’s unexplained absence.
“Spasibo,” Valentin said to both Ashaya and Dr. Bashir. “You saved an extraordinary life today.” Of a woman who was already changing the world, and who would grow ever more brilliant as she grew into herself and into her strength. Valentin’s heart would burst with pride for her, even as it broke. “Can we see her?”
“The nurses are moving her into an isolation room using a connected lift”—a nod back toward the surgical suite—“but Arwen will alert her to come to consciousness as soon as Dr. Bashir judges that she’s stable enough to be awake,” Ashaya told him. “You can see her then.”
That time came too quickly and far too slowly. Ena gave Valentin an extraordinary gift by permitting him to be the first inside Silver’s room. His mate’s face was pale but beautiful under the network of monitoring wires woven into her hair. They’d shaved that glorious hair in a small square patch that would be easy to hide until it grew back—that’d be important to his Starlight.
Not because of vanity, but because it was part of her armor.
Her lashes lifted at that moment, the fuzziness of a psychic deep sleep rapidly replaced by acute intelligence.
“Hello, Starlight.” He went to take her hand.
She curled it away from him.
A punch with a stone fist wouldn’t have hurt more. His bear dropped its head, backed off. Swallowing the hurt, because she was alive, was breathing, he curled his own hand to his side. “You’re okay?”
When Silver spoke, her voice was raspy but otherwise strong. “My mental acuity and telepathic reach are undamaged.”
“The audio telepathy?”
“Dead.” A long pause, her eyes on him. “I remember our relationship together,” she said at last, “but I feel no compulsion to re-create it. I can no longer even understand why I acted in such an irrational manner.” She stopped speaking only long enough to swallow, wet her throat. “I recall asking for biofusion filaments to be put in my brain.”