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Riv’En’s movements were exacting as he fastened the deep violet sash. By the time he faced her again, robed in quiet authority, he looked calm. Self-possessed.

But as they stepped toward the door together, it slid open to reveal two Elaroin guards. Both wore pale silver robes threaded with muted violet, their skin shimmering faintly beneath layered veils. Their faces were impassive, but their presence carried clout.

The shift in the air came immediately, like walking into a room already waiting for judgment. Neither guard moved beyond standing directly in their path, blocking both of them with silent authority.

“The human may not pass,” one said, voice cool and stripped of anything resembling warmth.

It wasn’t anger or judgment. It was law, delivered with the kind of finality that left no room for argument.

His stance shifted subtly, feet planting wider as if anticipating challenge, the shimmer of containment lines flickering faintly across his skin.

The air tightened between them, like even the walls held their breath.

Riv’En’s robe flared red at the edges, astark, pulsing light that bled into the quiet around them.

His eyes narrowed, the movement subtle but unmistakable, aflash of restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

He visibly fought the urge to act. The heat radiating from him intensified, as if the entire space held its breath alongsidehim.

“Only Fourth is summoned,” the guardsaid.

Maya laid a hand against Riv’En’s chest before he could speak, her fingers spread wide, the sharp burn of heat still echoing beneath his skin.

Her touch wasn’t just to calm him. It was to anchor herself too, to remind them both that they weren’t stepping apart because they wanted to.

Her gaze met his, steady despite the ache building low in her throat.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Go. I’ll be here.”

Riv’En’s hand closed over hers once, brief and hard, his grip lingering longer than it should have, as if securing both of them to that single point of contact.

His gaze held hers for a breath longer, black eyes steady and burning with something quiet and unspoken.

Something she sensed more than understood.

It wasn’t just anger or frustration. It was promise.

Asilent vow that no matter what waited beyond that door, he would return to her.

Then, without releasing the tension connecting them, he stepped past the guards in one fluid motion, his posture rigid, constrained, though his robe still bled with whisps of angryred.

The door sealed behindhim.

And Maya was left alone.

She stood there for a moment longer, her hand still raised as if the door might open again. But it didn’t. With a sharp breath, she turned away from the sealed entrance and let her gaze drift across the space Riv’En had calledhome.

The silence grew more demanding now. Thicker. The living walls glimmered faintly, their pulse subtle and slow, as if the entire residence had quieted in his absence. Her fingers brushed along the edge of a nearby table, tracing the curve of its living vine surface without really seeingit.

The motion was automatic, aprotective move against the rising panic knotting in her stomach.

The room became too big, too quiet, the pulse of the living walls slow and faint like a heartbeat she could not quite match.

She focused on the texture under her fingertips, grounding herself in that small, tangible detail rather than the chaos building in her thoughts.

Her stomach clenched with an echo of heat that wasn’t hunger but close.

Still, she crossed to the food alcove and pulled a piece of fruit from the display there.

It was cool beneath her fingers, bumpy and dark yellow-skinned, and when she bit into it, the bumps exploded with a delicious tangy juice.

The taste was crisp and faintly floral. It woke her senses just enough to remind her she was still standing, still here.

But there was no real appetite behind it.

Just motion. Just doing something to keep from standing still.

Her steps took her through the quiet rooms, each surface pulsing faintly beneath her touch.

And then she found it, asmall recessed panel near the far wall in a huge gathering area, half-hidden beneath the curve of a flowering vine.

Her brows pulled together as she brushed her fingers along its edge. The surface lit beneath herhand.

A pulse. Awhisper of light.

Before she could fully think it through, the room around her changed.

Light unfurled from the panel, rising and expanding until the entire space in the gathering room filled with shifting figures.

She wasn’t looking at a viewscreen. She twirled in a swift circle.

She was standing inside a formalroom.

All around her, the Council chamber unfolded in perfect, three-dimensional clarity.

Three Councilors stood at the forefront, two males and one female.

The males, tall and broad-shouldered, wore robes patterned in harsh silver and deep green.

Their faces were carved with rigid lines, expressions set in stone.

Between them stood Vaeyra, Second of Elaros Council, her presence quieter but no less commanding. Her silver eyes flickered with something Maya couldn’t name. Concern, maybe, or quiet defiance. Vaeyra’s robe shimmered subtly at the hem, asofter silver threaded with paleblue.

Riv’En stood before them, shoulders squared, head lifted high, his stance unwavering and powerful, radiating composed strength. It wasn’t a projection in the air. It was like stepping from one room into another. Had she somehow been transported to the Council chambers?

Maya’s pulse stumbled.

She turned slowly in place, heart hammering.

At first, it appeared terrifyingly real, like she had been pulled straight into the Council chambers themselves.

But as her hand passed through the edge of an Elder’s robe, shimmering faintly beneath her touch, realization dawned.

It was a projection. Ahologram. Relief washed through her in a sharp wave, loosening the tight knot in her chest. She hadn’t been transported anywhere.

She was still in Riv’En’s home. Still safe.

And yet, what she was witnessing shookher.

She wasn’t supposed to seethis.

But she couldn’t make herself look away. Her whole body locked in place, as if moving would make everything she was seeing real in a way she wasn’t readyfor.

The chamber’s projection pulsed faintly as sound kicked in.

Not all at once, but in rising clarity. Adeep male voice spoke first, one of the Elders in silver-green robes.

His tone was clipped and forceful: “Final Flight is accelerating beyond expected parameters. We must determine now whether intervention is possible.”

Riv’En’s voice followed, measured and unwavering. “Intervention is unnecessary. Iwill manage.”

“Manage?” the other male Councilor echoed, his voice deeper, colder. “Your physical scans say otherwise. Your heat output has already crossed threshold. We have protocols for this.”

Vaeyra’s voice cut in next, quieter but edged with steel. “Those protocols include voluntary entry into cryo-stasis or seclusion. Both options are unacceptable given the contamination threat.”

Maya’s stomach twisted, asharp, cold knot tightening deep in her gut.

Her throat grew tight, her breath too shallow, like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

Every instinct in her body screamed to run, to escape this unbearable tension, but her legs wouldn’t move.

Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t unhear the threat woven into every sentence.

Her mind spun in frantic circles: Was there anything she could do to change their minds?

Would Riv’En really be able to stand against all of them alone?

The first Elder stepped forward slightly. “There is no precedent for halting Final Flight. None. But we are also without precedent regarding this bond. It cannot be ignored. The human must be isolated immediately.”

Riv’En’s posture didn’t shift. “She is not a threat.”

The male Councilor’s voice rose. “Her presence is accelerating your condition. That is not speculation. It is fact. The human’s proximity destabilizes you.”

Before Riv’En could answer, asoft chime echoed through the chamber—sharp, yet musical.

Vaeyra lifted her hand slightly, drawing immediate attention.

“A new report has just been received,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension like tempered glass.

“The human does not accelerate his Final Flight. Quite the reverse, in fact. The ship’s original assessment was incorrect. Her presence slows his condition.”

The first Councilor’s mouth tightened. “There’s no knowing which assessment is correct.”

“You doubt our scientists’ report?”

“His Final Flight has not stopped entirely. We need to know why.”

“True,” Vaeyra allowed. “But according to our esteemed colleagues, he would have completed his Final Flight long ago if not for his Bonded Mate. She has changed the progression.” She tilted her head, eyes suddenly narrowing. “Which reminds me.... The Mating Flame—does it exist or does it not?”

Riv’En’s answer was immediate, steady. “It appeared on her. Shortly after first contact.”

Silence rippled through the room. Vaeyra’s gaze sharpened. “Explain.”

“There was a blood exchange during our first contact. Our first confrontation. She bit me and it drew blood.”

Maya flinched where she stood, the memory sparking sharp and immediate. That night she’d been taken by Riv’En. The wild panic. Her teeth sinking into his skin without thinking, tasting blood she hadn’t understood—hot, metallic, unlike anything human.