“Clarification requested,” ARIS said. “This bond—has it been formally established?”
“No.”
“Then by what criteria do you make this claim?”
“By every criteria that matters.” He finally turned to face Liora, letting her see everything he’d been holding back—the fierce protectiveness, the desperate tenderness, the absolute certainty that had been growing in him since the day he arrived. “She’s my mate. She’s been my mate since the moment I saw her. And whether or not we ever formalize that bond, I will spend the rest of my life protecting her, providing for her, and loving her until there’s nothing left of me to give.”
Her eyes had gone wide, her lips parted slightly. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her hand trembled in his grip.
“Baylin...”
“You don’t have to say anything.” He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You don’t have to decideanything. I just needed you—and ARIS—to understand what I am. What this is. What I’m offering.”
The workshop went quiet. Even Pip had stopped chittering, his small eyes fixed on the two of them with what seemed like rapt attention.
“Processing,” ARIS said.
They waited.
His heart pounded in a slow, heavy rhythm that seemed to echo through his entire body. He’d laid himself bare in a way he’d never done before, exposed vulnerabilities he’d spent years learning to hide. If the AI decided that made him a liability rather than an asset...
“Analysis complete.”
He held his breath.
“Vultor mating bonds represent one of the strongest commitment structures documented in any sapient species. The neurological and hormonal changes associated with such bonds fundamentally alter the bonded individual’s priorities, making protection of their mate the single most important directive—superseding self-preservation, social obligations, and even basic survival instincts.”
“I’m aware.”
“Furthermore, documented cases suggest that bonded Vultor who fail to protect their mates experience severe psychological and physical decline. The bond creates a mutual dependency that cannot be dissolved without significant trauma.”
“Also aware.”
“Your declaration therefore represents a substantial commitment—one that carries significant personal risk if the bond proves unsuccessful or the mate is harmed.”
His jaw tightened. “I know what I’m saying.”
“Yes.” The AI’s voice shifted slightly—the same modulation he had noticed before when it was processing something that didn’t quite fit its existing frameworks. “You do.”
Another pause.
“My core directive is to ensure Liora’s survival and wellbeing. For twenty-one years, I have interpreted this directive as requiring her isolation from the outside world—minimizing exposure to threats, controlling variables, maintaining a stable environment.”
She stepped closer to him, her shoulder pressing against his arm.
“However, recent data suggests this interpretation may be... incomplete. Liora’s father’s final message indicates he never intended her confinement to be permanent. Her own arguments have highlighted the psychological costs of extended isolation. And your declaration—” The AI paused. “Your declaration introduces a variable I had not previously considered.”
“Which is?”
“The possibility that her survival probability might actually increase through intentional exposure to controlled risk, guided by a protector whose commitment to her wellbeing is absolute.”
Baylin felt hope stirring in his chest but forced himself to remain still. He’d pushed hard enough. Now he needed to let the AI reach its own conclusions.
“I am recalculating her projected survival probability outside the tower,” ARIS said. “This will take some time. The scenarios are complex, and I must account for numerous variables.”
“How long?”
“Several hours at minimum. Possibly longer.”
