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She’d been terrified then, convinced she’d crossed a line she couldn’t come back from.

But now... now she saw it through a different lens.

That bite had meant something. More than anger or defense.

It had bonded her to him. That single moment might have been the key to all of this—and she hadn’t even realizedit.

The second male Councilor frowned, glancing at the data screen. “That explains the anomaly. And yet, you bear no visible Flame. Why?”

Vaeyra’s voice dropped. “His mother’s people. Half-blooded unions manifest differently. It may require the Bonded Chase. The Flame Hunt.”

Riv’En’s voice cut in before she could say more. “The Bonded Chase was completed.” His mouth tightened. “I completed the ritual. But no Flame appeared.”

Her gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Then clearly, something was done incorrectly.”

One of the male Councilors leaned forward, frowning hard. “Incorrectly? He completed the ritual, did he not?”

Vaeyra inclined her head slowly. “Perhaps too soon. Or without full adherence to protocol. The Bonded Chase has strict rules. Chase, mate, exchange of blood by both parties. If any step is incomplete, the Mating Flame will not ignite. Timing matters, yes, but it is the blood exchange that seals the bond fully.” She paused, voice sharpening with purpose.

“Did you bite her during the Chase, Riv’En? That is required.”

“I did,” Riv’En confirmed, his voice steady.

Vaeyra tilted her head in consideration. “And did she bite you in return—during the Chase itself?”

Riv’En stiffened. “No. That did not occur.”

The first Councilor exhaled slowly, as if the answer confirmed some long-standing theory. “There is your error. To fully bond, especially in half-blooded unions, both parties must exchange blood during the Chase to seal the bond fully.”

Maya’s breath caught. Each word dropped more grave than the last, not just something distant and formal, but something with the power to end her future before it had even started.

Her mind fought to make sense of it—blood exchange, the Bonded Chase, protocols she had no words for now.

And all of it wrapped around that one, stark question: Would she be allowed to stay with Riv’En even though she’d been at fault for not completing the Bonded Chase appropriately?

Tears filled her eyes as she realized how much she wanted that answer to be yes.

Even after everything. Even hearing herself labeled a contamination.

Her gaze darted from Councilor to Councilor, trying to read faces that gave nothing back.

Her mouth went dry, her pulse too loud in her ears. And yet still, she could not lookaway.

The first Councilor didn’t speak for a moment. Then, quieter, more deliberate: “Her twin status complicates matters further.”

The second male chimed in, “Her genetic structure is unstable, filled with latent contamination markers. Even if the joint bite had occurred it does not guarantee that the Mating Bond would have completed.”

Maya pressed her hand flat against her stomach again, her breath frozen. And still, she couldn’t look away.She wasn’t just hearing words. She was hearing her own future being debated like she was some dangerous thing.

Vaeyra again: “Perhaps. But removing her now may also destabilize Riv’En further. We must weigh all outcomes.”

Maya struggled to swallow, asour taste flavoring her tongue.

Her twin status. The contamination. The Mating Bond.

Would they even be allowed to complete the Bond?

That was the real question. Not just whether her presence hurt him, but whether the Council would permit them to finish what had been started—to seal the bond fully, to make it official in the eyes of his people. Riv’En had indicated that was vital.

The Councilor who had spoken second lifted a hand, activating a series of glowing panels. “Further scans. Her twin status is confirmed. Her genetic structure—unstable.”

“Twins do not exist in our systems,” the first Councilor snapped. “This is not random.”

The second Elder spoke again. “And when your Final Flight completes? What then? The Council must determine whether she is kept... or purged. The contamination is undeniable. Her twin status defies our laws. If the bond fails, there is no justification for her continued existence.”

Her knees buckled, and she caught herself against the edge of the table, clutching it with both hands like it was the only solid thing in the world.

When they said ‘purged,’ her entire body jolted.

It took everything she had to stay upright, to breathe, to keep her feet beneath her when every part of her screamed to collapse.

Her mind spun: What would they do? Would Riv’En really be able to protect her from all of them? If the answer was no, she wasn’t sure what she would do next. Run? Hide? Somehow fight for herself? The idea of standing alone against an entire Council, against Riv’En’s own people, terrifiedher.

But more than that was the knowledge she might be forced to walk away from him.

And that, more than anything, drove something sharp and tight through her.

She wasn’t Vettian or Elaroin. She didn’t belong here, not really.

And yet, she did. She wanted to. Her throat went tight, her vision blurred, but still she watched.

Because even if it broke her, she had to know what they would decide.

Vaeyra’s voice was quieter now, but still firm. “Even so, she is here, despite all that. The question now is whether she remains.”

Riv’En’s head lifted higher. “She will remain.”

The room fell into charged silence. Even through the projection, Maya could feelit.

A pulse of heat flared in the projection’s color, red haloing Riv’En’s form, deepening and brightening like a living warning. It wasn’t just a visual flicker. It radiated through the chamber’s ambient light, making every surface pulse faintly in time with that angry flare.

Maya wasn’t sure if it was meant as a threat or a signal of Riv’En unraveling, but either way, the effect left the room sharper, more perilous—like the walls themselves could splinter under the mass of it.

It was as if even the projection could not contain the force of his quiet fury, that same bitter strength pushing outward in waves.

The first male’s voice came again, hard as iron. “Final Flight. Contamination. Twin anomaly. Bond without proof. This is no small thing.”

Vaeyra’s answer was quiet but unshaken. “And yet, here they remain. Both bound by these issues. We must make a decision.”

At that moment, awarning pulse echoed through the chamber. Lights shifted, and one of the Councilors’ attendants stepped forward.

“Incoming ships,” the attendant announced. “Three. No identification codes.”

Riv’En turned sharply.

The projection shimmered. Maya stepped back, her heart caught between fear and dread.

Ships. Riv’En’s hand closed into a fist at his side, shoulders squaring as he gave a short nod to the Councilors. Without a word, he turned and stepped toward the exit with the kind of purposeful stride that left no doubt. He would meet whatever approached head-on, whether it was friend orfoe.

She pressed her hand against the wall, knuckles white. And waited. Because this time, there was no turning back. Whatever happened next—ships, Council, bond or no bond—she knew one thing for certain. Nothing on this planet would tear her away from Riv’En. Not now. Not ever.