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My chest tightens. "I've killed in battle more times than I can count," I admit, the confession surprisingly easy after keeping it buried for so long. "But I won't slaughter innocents to advance my standing. Not even when ordered."

For the first time since her claiming, Aria's eyes meet mine without flinching away—not avoiding the inhuman gold, the vertical pupils that mark me as predator. The moment stretches between us, fragile and unexpected, neither of us willing to break it first.

The claiming bond pulses with something dangerously close to understanding. Something shifts in my chest—a tight pressure I've carried so long I'd forgotten it wasn't a natural part of breathing.

The warning horns shatter the moment—three long blasts echoing through the fortress. Dragon forces spotted in the valley, closing faster than predicted.

"I need to go." I'm already moving toward the armor station, body shifting into combat readiness with practiced efficiency.

"Let me help," Aria calls, determination threading through her voice. "I know the valley terrain better than your scouts. I can guide defensive positioning for maximum coverage with minimal exposure."

I pause, caught between tactical advantage and the instinct to keep her far from danger. The strategic benefit is clear, but a possessiveness I shouldn't feel wars against commander's pragmatism. The thought of her anywhere near dragon forcessends a primal surge of protective rage through me, startling in its intensity.

Another horn blast decides for me—three short, one long. Enemy forces breaching the first sensor perimeter. No time for debate.

"Stay with Charlie team on the eastern ridge," I snap, fastening combat armor across my chest. "Observation only. Do not engage under any circumstances."

She nods once, all business now. "The ridge has three blind approaches dragons might exploit. I'll make sure the team covers them all."

As I check my weapons, I catch Thorne watching our exchange, his expression carefully neutral though his scent betrays curiosity.

"Forces in position, Commander," he reports. "Settlement evacuation to underground shelters in progress. Estimated completion within twenty minutes."

"I'll lead the valley defense personally," I tell him, checking my weapons with practiced movements. "You coordinate from the fortress. If we're overrun, priority is settlement evacuation, not holding ground."

Thorne's tail twitches once—surprise at orders that place human safety above territorial defense. He keeps any objection to himself, responding with crisp "Yes, sir" that reveals nothing of his personal assessment.

As we move toward deployment, I catch Aria watching me, her scent a complex mixture I can't fully decipher. The claiming bond transmits emotions I didn't expect—concern, curiosity, and something that feels surprisingly like admiration.

"Be careful," she says simply.

The words hit me harder than they should. I nod once, acknowledging concern I have no right to expect from a claimed omega who never wanted a feline alpha. Another horn blastcuts short any response I might have given, driving us to our positions as dragon forces close in.

Combat comes as release—no time for reflection or emotional complexity. My body surrenders to the predator I normally keep carefully contained, all restraint abandoned as I lead my forces against the dragon strike teams.

From the ridge where I've stationed her with Charlie team, Aria watches as I become the monster I truly am. My speed lets me cover ground no human could traverse in twice the time. My flexibility allows me to dodge dragon fire by bending in ways that would shatter a human spine. My strength sends enemies flying with single blows from claws I've kept carefully sheathed around her.

I launch myself twenty feet up a cliff face without pause, intercept an aerial attack with a mid-air collision that should be impossible for my mass, land on all fours before springing immediately into the next engagement. My troops follow with disciplined coordination, implementing the defensive strategy that prioritizes settlement protection without sacrificing tactical advantage.

The dragons, expecting us to abandon human territory, find themselves caught in crossfire from positions they never anticipated we'd secure. After sustaining significant casualties, their primary force retreats beyond the ridge line.

Satisfaction burns through me—not just at driving back the enemy, but at succeeding in a strategy that protected both military assets and human lives. This victory feels different, more complete than simple territorial defense.

As I climb back toward the observation ridge, I spot Aria standing with Charlie team leader. The expression on her face as she watches my approach contains none of the revulsion I expected after displaying my monstrous combat capabilities.Instead, I find fascination—a reassessment of assumptions that no longer fit what she's witnessed.

The claiming bond pulses between us with something I still don't have words for. Not submission or mere acceptance, but something more complex building between reluctant claiming and genuine connection. It sends an unfamiliar warmth through my chest that I don't dare examine too closely.

I push the thought aside, focusing on immediate concerns as dragon forces regroup beyond the ridge. Whatever shifted between us today—during revelations about my past or my combat display—must wait for a calmer moment, if such a moment ever comes in this endless territorial war.

"Status report," I demand of Charlie team leader, deliberately avoiding direct interaction with Aria while combat adrenaline still burns through my system. The predator remains too close to the surface, control not yet fully restored after unleashing my true nature.

As the officer delivers his summary, I find my attention repeatedly drawn to Aria despite my attempts at professional focus. She studies me with new eyes—seeing not just the commander who claimed her against her will, but the warrior who risked himself to protect settlements with no strategic value beyond their inherent right to exist.

The realization hits me like a physical blow—I care what she thinks. Her opinion matters beyond tactical assessment or claimed omega status. The claiming bond throbs between us with silent recognition of a boundary crossed, a perspective shifted, a connection expanded beyond biological imperative to something neither of us anticipated when heat biology forced our paths to intersect.

Whatever comes next, the distance between reluctant alpha and unwilling omega has narrowed—not eliminated, but transformed into something neither of us fully understands,something with potential I dare not examine too closely as dragon forces regroup beyond the horizon and war continues its relentless progression.

As I turn to lead my troops back to the fortress, I catch her scent once more—the subtle notes of her emotions have shifted again. The fear that once dominated her response to me has receded further, replaced by something that feels dangerously like trust.