"Perhaps," I said slowly, "the more interesting question is whether the bond is truly designed to end, or whether that's simply what we've convinced ourselves must happen."
Myris raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I've read enough historical precedent to know that exceptional partnerships have occasionally challenged expectations." I met his gaze directly, wondering if he could see the hunger I was no longer trying to hide. "And meaning that if this Lieutenant Rion and I discover something worth preserving, I'm not inclined to let arbitrary timelines dictate its conclusion."
What I didn't say was that twenty-eight days might be exactly enough time to break down his defenses completely, to teach him to crave my guidance, to make him understand that true submission was the greatest gift he could offer. If I could accomplish that, if I could make myself essential to his pleasure and peace, then perhaps the arbitrary deadline would become irrelevant.
"Kaelen." Myris's voice carried a note of warning, but also something that might have been approval. "These aren't theoretical constructs you'll be dealing with. These are real emotions, real people, real consequences. The militant Orders don't appreciate having their traditions challenged."
"Then perhaps it's time their traditions evolved to match their actual needs rather than their inherited fears." I set down my cup, decision crystallizing with surprising clarity. "I'll do it."
The words came out with more force than I'd intended, driven by hunger I could no longer deny. I wanted this. Wanted the chance to explore power I'd only dreamed of wielding. Wanted to discover whether my instincts toward dominance could be channeled into something sacred, whether commanding another's submission could become a form of worship.
"You're certain?"
"Absolutely." I smiled, feeling the familiar thrill that came with approaching uncharted intellectual territory—though this time, the territory was far more personal than any I'd explored before. "Besides, someone needs to test whether love is truly subject to institutional regulation."
What I really meant was that someone needed to test whether dominance and submission could transcend the artificial boundaries imposed by different Orders. Whether the hunger for control I'd spent years suppressing could finally find its proper outlet. Whether I could take a trained warrior and teach him that his greatest strength lay in surrender.
Myris studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. You have some time to prepare—not just intellectually, but emotionally. You may discover that some knowledge can only be gained through experience."
As I left his study, scrolls and theories swirling through my mind, I found myself wondering whether Lieutenant Rion had any idea he was about to become part of the most fascinating—and intensely personal—research project of my academic career.
I had days to prepare. Days to ready myself for the chance to finally explore what I'd only dared imagine in the dark hours before dawn.
Days until I discovered whether my dreams of dominance were merely fantasy, or the deepest truth of my nature finally demanding recognition.
Chapter
Three
RION
The sacred baths lay beneath the Temple of Korrath in chambers carved from living rock, where steam rose from pools fed by hot springs deep in the island's core. This was where militants came before bonds, before battles, before any moment that required communion with their god's strength. The air was thick with mineral-scented mist and the quiet murmur of prayers spoken in the darkness before dawn.
I descended the stone steps, my bare feet finding purchase on the familiar grooves worn smooth by generations of warriors. The cold air raised goosebumps along my skin, but that was part of the ritual—the shock of transition from comfortable warmth to challenging elements that would prepare body and spirit for what lay ahead.
"You're early." Talis emerged from one of the deeper pools, water streaming from his lean frame. Twenty-five years old but marked by a confidence I'dalways envied. His recent bonding had left him somehow more settled, as if he'd discovered something about himself that had been missing before.
"Couldn't sleep," I said, settling my towel on the stone ledge.
"Nerves?" Alyon called from across the chamber. He was older, twenty-eight, with the kind of scarred hands that came from a decade of serious combat. His voice carried the rough edge of someone who'd seen enough bonds to be skeptical of their supposed benefits.
"Anticipation," I corrected, though we all knew it was mostly nerves.
The water was shockingly cold as I lowered myself into the purification pool. This was the traditional beginning—cold water to wake the spirit, to strip away comfort and complacency. My breath hissed between my teeth as the chill bit into my skin, but I forced myself to submerge completely, following the ritual that had prepared warriors for sacred partnership for centuries.
When I surfaced, gasping, Talis was studying me with the careful attention he'd always given to tactical problems.
"Cross-Order bond," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Scholar from Aerius. Kaelen." The name felt strange on my tongue—foreign, intellectual, nothing like the simple militant names I was used to.
"Brave choice," Alyon muttered, though his tone suggested he thought it more foolish than brave. "Bad enough bonding with someone who understands yourweaknesses. Worse when they've got theories about how you should be using them."
I moved to the next pool—warmer, but still uncomfortable enough to keep the mind sharp. This was where we meditated on Korrath's dual nature, finding balance between the god's aspects of sacred combat and physical perfection.
"Tell me about your bond," I said to Talis. "How it ended."
