“Fourteen minutes,” she announces. “New record.”
The chamber erupts in sound—growls, roars, stamping feet. Approval. Acceptance. Respect earned through demonstration rather than words.
Lyra sways slightly, and I catch her, holding her steady as the exhaustion of three brutal challenges catches up. But she’s smiling, fierce and proud, and I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than I do in this moment.
“All three challenges passed,” Elder Frost proclaims. “Lyra Starling has proven herself worthy by Mountain Cat standards. The bond may proceed when both parties are ready.”
“When the mission is complete,” Lyra says, her voice carrying despite her exhaustion. “When those prisoners are freed and Crane is stopped. Then we’ll complete the formal bonds.”
Keira nods approval. “Practical. Strategic. Very Mountain Cat of you.” She addresses the assembled clan. “We have witnessed proof that integration can create strength rather than weakness. Remember this when the council convenes tomorrow.”
The crowd disperses, many stopping to offer Lyra direct acknowledgment—touches on her shoulder, respectful nods, even a few genuine smiles. She’s done what seemed impossible: earned Mountain Cat respect in a single morning.
As we’re finally alone in a quieter corridor, she turns to me. “I need to tell you something. Before we go any further, before the assault, before everything else.”
The seriousness in her tone makes my chest tight. “What is it?”
“When I’m with you, when we’re together like we were in the maze—I don’t see the death visions anymore.” She takes my hands, holding tight. “They’ve stopped. Ever since the bond-bridge. I think... I think by changing you, we changed the future. The paths that led to your death no longer exist because you’re not the same person they showed me.”
Relief and something deeper floods through me. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. The visions show other dangers, other challenges. But not that. Not you dying because of me anymore.” She steps closer, rising on her toes. “Which means when this is over, whenwe’ve dealt with Crane and saved those people, I get to keep you.”
“You’ve always had me,” I say, cupping her face in my hands. “From the moment we met. But knowing you’re not carrying that burden anymore?—”
She kisses me.
It’s not our first kiss—there have been stolen moments, desperate touches during healing. But this is different. This is choice, not necessity. Promise, not fear.
I pull her closer, careful of my wings, mindful of her exhaustion, but unable to resist deepening the kiss. She tastes like mountain herbs and determination, and I want to memorize every detail of this moment.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, her eyes are bright with desire and something more. Love, I realize. She loves me as much as I love her.
“After the mission,” she whispers against my lips. “We’re going to finish this properly.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a certainty.” She pulls back, straightening her borrowed Mountain Cat clothing with trembling hands. “But first, we have prisoners to save and a monster to stop.”
“Together,” I say, and this time the word holds layers of meaning—battle partners, magical resonance, mate bond, and the future all wrapped into one.
“Together,” she agrees.
The integration council convenes at sunset in Keira’s great hall. Representatives from Storm Eagles, Shadow Wolves, and even a few Frost Lynx scouts have arrived, all drawn by the emergency summons. Elena and Kael are present via communication crystal—their twins are sick, and the new parents couldn’t bear to leave them, but their input is too valuable to exclude.
I watch Lyra present the evidence she gathered from Crane’s files, her exhaustion hidden behind professional competence. She lays out the threat systematically: twenty-three prisoners, tortured and transformed. A rogue scientist with Haven’s Heart training. A facility that needs to be destroyed completely.
And most importantly: the security breach. Someone feeding Crane information from the integration database.
“We need to know who,” Elena’s voice comes through the crystal, tight with anger. “If there’s a traitor in our network, they could be passing information to others. Crane might not be working alone.”
“I’ll investigate from the Haven’s Heart end,” Kael adds. “Review access logs, track anomalies. But it will take time we might not have.”
“Then we proceed with the assault as planned,” Keira says. “Three days from now. Coordinate forces, plan the approach, ensure we have medical support for the victims we rescue.” She looks at Lyra. “You’ve worked with Elena on treatment protocols for the Broken. What do we need?”
Lyra outlines requirements—medical facilities, healers trained in integrated techniques, restraints for subjects who might be violent from pain or madness. The council listens, takes notes, begins planning in earnest.
By the time the meeting concludes, it’s full dark. The assault is scheduled. Forces are mobilizing. And Lyra and I have three days to rest, recover, and prepare for what might be our most dangerous fight yet.
