PROJECT: CAYRO

Cayro Bracton

October 19, 2025

10:38 EST

The Bracton House,

Hampton, VA.

I lay in bed, staring up at the hole in the ceiling, a not-so-subtle reminder of last night’s magical mishap. A softly snoring draconian was sprawled across my chest, sound asleep. Star had been half awake and half asleep earlier, toying with her magic while I drifted off. She’d only slept an hour or so before exhaustion had finally caught up to her, likely thanks to the magic she kept summoning in her draconian form.

She didn’t realize it yet, but using her powers in this form drained her faster. She had managed to create a mini skyboard, zipping it around the room like a kid playing with a toy. By the time the board made its way back to her, she was out cold, snoring softly.

Smiling to myself, I decided to take this quiet moment to really explore her draconian features. Star never let me take a close look at her in this form—too insecure about how she looked. But honestly, she didn’t understand how much I liked it. Yeah, I get it, it sounds weird—being into a half-reptilian, half-human form—but she was still Star, and somehow this form made her even more fascinating to me.

Gently, I trailed my hand up to her horns. They weren’t large, maybe an inch and a half at best, but they had this unique pattern of ridges and bumps that I found oddly captivating. I brushed my thumb along the curve of one, pressing lightly at the peak. Dull, but still pointed—just like her.

“Mmm… that feels good,” she muttered in a soft, husky mewl, turning her head slightly as she snuggled deeper into me, still fast asleep.

I chuckled under my breath and moved to trace the pointed shape of her ear, noting the soft, smooth scales that lined the edges. She swatted at my hand lazily but missed.

“Stoooop it…” she grumbled, not bothering to wake up fully.

Grinning, I caught her hand, studying the sharp talons and the tougher, armored scales along her knuckles. They gave her the appearance of wearing a natural gauntlet—elegant but lethal.

That’s when I noticed her stirring, and I felt the weight of her gaze on me. Her amethyst eyes narrowed, clearly not amused, and she pursed her lips.

“What are you doing?” she grumbled.

“Admiring you,” I said, still smiling.

Her eyes darkened with annoyance. “You know I don’t like this form…” she muttered, the edge in her voice unmistakable.

“I know, but I think it’s beautiful and… um…” I hesitated, feeling a bit awkward about what I was going to say next.

“Um what?” she growled, her tone carrying that dangerous edge. The rumble of her growl vibrated through my chest, making me second guess telling her the truth.

I bit my lip, wondering if this was a terrible idea. What if she thought I was weird for finding her draconian form attractive? Or worse—what if she thought I was lying?

“Um what, Cayro?” she growled deeper this time, her sharp claws pressing ever so slightly into my skin as the rumble traveled through my body. Crap.

I swallowed hard and blurted it out. “Um… that I’m weird because I find you attractive in this form.”

Her eyes went wide, and I could see her brain shifting into overdrive. She immediately tried to pull away, her face twisting with the kind of insecurity that only Star could manage.

“See! I knew it!” she snapped. “You think I’m ugly, don’t you? You’re just being nice because you think—wait… what?” She stopped mid-rant, her expression changing from anger to confusion.

“I think you’re attractive in this form,” I repeated calmly, locking eyes with her.

She blinked at me, completely thrown off balance, her earlier anger evaporating in the blink of an eye. “You… you think I’m attractive in this form?” she stammered, her cheeks suddenly flushing with a deep, scarlet blush.

“Mhm,” I nodded, trying not to laugh at the sheer disbelief on her face.

“Oh…” was all she managed to say, visibly deflating as her body relaxed.

I chuckled and cupped her face in my hands, pulling her closer to press a soft kiss to her forehead. She let out a long huff, her earlier tension draining away, though I could tell she was still processing my words. Crawling off of me, she shifted back into her human form, her expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

By the time I sat up, she was already heading downstairs, probably still trying to wrap her head around everything. I couldn’t help but grin as I jumped out of bed and chased after her. We flew down the stairs together, laughing like idiots, and for once, everything felt a little lighter.

It wasn’t until we reached the living room that we both came to a screeching halt. My grandfather was sitting in his lounge chair, glaring at us with the fury of a thousand suns. His fingers drummed ominously on the armrests, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. Nope. It was the unmistakable sight that nearly made me double over in laughter.

“Yamaha… BLUE!” he roared, his face flushing a deeper red by the second. “Star… Tabitha… Zaraki! You dyed my hair YAMAHA BLUE!”

“Technically, it’s Smurf blue,” Star corrected him, keeping a completely straight face, which somehow made the situation even funnier.

My grandfather’s jaw hung open as he tried to process her deadpan response. I fucking lost it. Tears streamed down my face as I bent over, clutching my stomach. For years, both my grandmother and I had been trying to convince him to try a new look—this was a masterpiece.

Grandma came rushing down the stairs, only to freeze when she spotted him. “What’s going on... oh!” she gasped, quickly covering her mouth with her hand, barely containing her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…” my grandfather grumbled, crossing his arms.

“It’s not that bad, honey,” my grandmother tried to reassure him, though the smirk on her face betrayed her amusement.

“You could’ve gone with Kawasaki green! That I’d rock the shit out of,” he growled.

“And that’s exactly why she went with blue, dear,” Grandma replied, patting him on the shoulder. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before making fun of how someone looks.”

It seemed to dawn on him that this was revenge for the lotion prank he’d pulled on Star earlier. Realizing he’d been outplayed, he sank back into his chair and huffed. “Well played, Star. Well played,” he grumbled before finally moving his chair back into its usual spot, trying to salvage some dignity.

I managed to get over my laughing fit and dragged Star into the dining room that we rarely used. “You dyed my grandfather’s hair blue?” I asked, still trying to stifle my laughter.

“Technically, he dyed it himself,” she corrected again, grinning mischievously. “I just bought him a bottle of prank shampoo and slapped a note on it: ‘From Star, with love.’”

That explained how he knew it was her. I grinned, holding out my fist for a bump. She met it with a smirk.

But then it hit me—we were missing someone. “Hey, Star, where’s Lyra?”

“Huh,” she said, her brow furrowing. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her either. I would’ve thought she’d come to see what the commotion was about.”

“Odd…” I muttered. I left the dining room to check the living room and kitchen, while Star headed upstairs to check Lyra’s room.

No signs of her downstairs. I met Star back by the staircase, and she looked just as confused. “Was she up there?”

“Nope, no sign of her,” Star replied, her worry mirroring mine.

“Grandma, do you know where Lyra is?” I called out, hoping for a clue.

“She’s in my office,” my grandfather called back casually from the living room, as if that made perfect sense.

I exchanged a bewildered look with Star. “Why is she in your office?” I asked, growing more curious by the second.

“Why don’t you go look?” came his cryptic reply.

Grabbing Star’s hand, we made our way to his office, both of us increasingly puzzled as we pushed open the door. But nothing could have prepared us for what we found.

“LYRA!” Star shrieked, horrified, as she ran toward her.

I was frozen, jaw hanging open in utter shock. There, tied to one of the chairs in front of my grandfather’s desk, was Lyra—in her wolf form—covered head to toe in rainbow glitter. A large apple was stuffed in her mouth, and her fur was coated with some kind of gel that made the glitter stick like glue. Tears streamed down her glittery cheeks. What the actual hell?

“Grandpa! What did you do to Lyra?” I finally managed to yell.

His response was quick and unapologetic. “Mess with my office, and see where it gets you,” he called back, the sound of the TV turning on punctuating his sentence.

I knew messing with my grandfather’s office was basically signing a death warrant. I bit my bottom lip, feeling a wave of sympathy for Lyra, who was still covered in glitter while Star worked to free her from the chair. I should’ve warned them both. Well, too late now.

“Whatever you do… don’t touch the bikes,” I said, my voice deadly serious.

“Cayro, now is not the—" Star started, but I cut her off.

“No, now is the perfect time. His hair is one thing, but Lyra messed with his office. That was a huge mistake. I’m telling you right now, under no circumstances touch the motorcycles in the garage. Think John Wick and his dog.”

I watched as both Star and Lyra visibly paled at the comparison. Just then, my grandmother strolled past, giving me a knowing look and a shake of the head, clearly amused but not intervening.

Lyra coughed, sending a fresh cascade of glitter tumbling to the floor. Star glanced at me, worry flickering in her eyes, before turning her attention back to Lyra.

“Are you okay?” Star asked gently.

“I… I didn’t know your grandfather was that scary…” Lyra stammered, still shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Yeah, well, messing with his office is like poking a bear with a stick,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I should’ve warned you.”

“What happened?” Star asked, her voice full of concern.

“I was trying to pull off the prank, you know, like we planned,” Lyra muttered. “But he caught me mid-glitter bomb…”

I blinked, turning to Star with an incredulous look. “You planned to glitter bomb my grandfather’s office?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Star replied, suddenly shy.

“Lyra, you’re lucky this is all he did,” I said, turning back to the still-sparkling werewolf.

“He… he threatened to turn me into a rug,” Lyra whimpered, clearly traumatized.

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. Honestly, she was lucky. Grandpa had definitely gone easy on her compared to what he could’ve done.

“Your grandfather is terrifying,” Lyra continued. “He reminds me of my old alpha.”

I sighed. “You two really should’ve run your prank plan by me first. I would’ve warned you.”

“He held me at gunpoint, Cayro,” Lyra said, her voice trembling again. “Made me clean up every single speck of glitter before tying me to this chair, dumping some horrible sticky gel all over me, and then… then he used all the glitter I bought and just—” she paused, shivering at the memory, “doused me in it.”

“Consider yourself lucky, Lyra,” I said flatly.

For the next hour, we untied Lyra and moved her outside into the backyard. I stayed inside, scrubbing every inch of my grandfather’s office and vacuuming up the glitter that Lyra had managed to track throughout the house. Meanwhile, Star was outside with a garden hose, spraying the tortured werewolf down.

Unfortunately for Lyra, the hair gel Grandpa had used on her fur had hardened, and it wasn’t coming off easily. Star had to resort to using an entire bottle of dish soap to get the glitter and gel mixture out of Lyra’s fur. By the time they finished, the yard looked like a unicorn had exploded.

Once they’d washed most of the glitter away, Star helped a very bedraggled Lyra up to our bathroom. Neither of them said a word to my grandfather as they passed him, though I could see Star bristling. She had a mean streak when it came to revenge, and if anyone could match her, it was Grandpa. I’d have to talk her down before things escalated any further. The last thing I needed was a full-blown prank war in the house.

After finishing the cleanup inside, I plopped down beside my grandfather, who was still lounging in his chair. His blue hair no longer seemed as comical as it had earlier. He glanced at me with one raised eyebrow, waiting.

“Sorry about the mess and, uh, the blue hair,” I mumbled.

“I can live with the hair. It’ll grow out,” he said, his voice carrying that dangerous edge. “But you know better than to mess with my office.”

“I know,” I admitted, feeling the weight of his disappointment settle on my shoulders. “I honestly didn’t think Star or Lyra would go that far.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “I don’t mind pranks, but there are lines you don’t cross. Make sure they know that.”

“Yes, sir,” I said softly, staring down at my hands. His disappointment cut deeper than any punishment could.

With a nod, he turned his attention back to the TV, leaving me to reflect on how this could’ve gone a whole lot worse.

We sat there in silence, watching the news as it droned on about the usual political nonsense. A panel of anchors was dissecting the latest executive orders, clearly relishing the controversy.

“It’ll be interesting to see what the other states that want to secede will do, Carl,” one anchor said, her voice filled with faux gravity.

“I agree, Joshlynn. Texas will be the last state allowed to secede,” Carl, the second anchor, replied, clearly reading the cue cards.

“Iowa and Missouri aren’t going to take this well. They just submitted their petitions for secession,” another chimed in, clearly excited to stir the pot.

“Oh, most definitely. I wouldn’t be surprised if riots break out. The governor of Iowa is holding a conference with state legislation to discuss their next move,” Joshlynn added, sounding far too gleeful for such a bleak topic.

I started zoning out as they continued their melodramatic analysis. The main subject seemed to be the new executive order that would officially halt any further states from leaving the Union, making Texas the last to secede. Just more fuel on the fire, in my opinion.

“That damn fool is trying to start a civil war,” my grandfather grumbled, his voice a low growl.

“What do you mean?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

“The current administration is doing everything in their power to keep control of the people, slowly dismantling the Constitution. They’re planning something, and it’s about controlling the U.S. population,” he explained, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Oh…” I mumbled, not entirely engaged.

“Mark my words, Cayro. Nothing good will come of this,” he muttered darkly.

A few minutes later, the political segment wrapped up and transitioned to sports. Just as my grandfather reached for the remote to turn off the TV, something caught my ear.

“Good afternoon, viewers! Today, we have an exciting special announcement about Team SAF!” the sports announcer said, his tone far too upbeat.

“Grandpa, wait!” I blurted out, practically jumping out of my seat. He paused, setting the remote back down, eyes now locked on the screen.

“For the first time since joining the International Skyboarding Association, Team SAF has made an appearance in the U.S. for a special event. But that’s not all! After five years of mystery, Team SAF’s lead rider has finally been unmasked!”

My blood ran cold. Oh, no…

“Not only has her identity been revealed, but Team SAF has also added a new member, who made his debut at a private event at SkyTeam Aerospace Foundation headquarters. Stay tuned as we unveil both the new rider and the once-masked skyboarding sensation.”

I sat there, paralyzed. My heart raced, and a wave of dread washed over me. This was very bad.

“Team SAF got a new rider?” my grandfather asked, clearly curious.

I turned to him, fear and anxiety clear on my face. My eyes were as wide as saucers, and my mind was scrambling.

“What’s wrong, Cayro?” he asked, his concern growing as he saw my reaction.

I shot up from the couch and sprinted to the base of the stairs, yelling with urgency, “STAR! GET DOWN HERE, RIGHT NOW!”

Star burst out of Lyra’s bedroom, panic etched across her face as she practically flew down the stairs, her body a blur.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice rising with alarm.

I didn’t answer, just pointed at the TV as the segment intro ended, and the sports anchor reappeared.

“Welcome back, everyone! As you all know, there’s been plenty of speculation about the identity of Team SAF’s tip-of-the-spear rider. Well, the debate is finally over! We’ve been given exclusive video footage that reveals who she really is!”

Star froze in her tracks. I could almost see the blood drain from her already pale complexion as realization hit her. We stood there, both locked in place as the footage played—the footage of our entrance from the night of the challenge. Scuzball’s voice echoed from the speakers, introducing our names while the soaring melody of Star Sky played in the background.

“There you have it, folks! Team SAF’s lead rider is none other than Star Tabitha Zaraki! Not only is she a stunning presence on the course, but she, alongside her new partner, Cayro Jacob Bracton, has set an entirely new standard for skyboarding. Their performance, enhanced with stunning visual effects, was nothing short of magical!”

As if to drive the point home, the screen flashed to two side-by-side images of Star and me, both taken mid-air as we soared through the stadium, our magic leaving radiant trails behind us. We were smiling—completely oblivious to the storm we had just unleashed.

Star’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. I stood there, numb. This was bad… very, very bad.

I sat down on the couch, my movements stiff and robotic, as my mind raced in a thousand different directions. This was bad. Really bad. The fact that Star and I already had a target on our backs was enough, but now our identities had been plastered all over the media. The whole world now knew we were officially part of Team SAF, and our anonymity had just been obliterated in the worst possible way.

“Damn!” my grandfather suddenly exclaimed.

I looked over at him, confused by his reaction. He had this excited look on his face, like he’d just won the lottery. Why was he excited? Couldn’t he see the gravity of the situation? This wasn’t something to celebrate—we were completely screwed. Hell, my grandparents were screwed too.

“Grandpa, this is bad…” I said seriously, my voice low and grim.

“Oh, trust me, I get it,” he said, the smile still on his face. “But that performance was spectacular. The two of you put on one hell of a show! I wish I’d been there to see it.”

“No, you really don’t. That was the same night we were attacked,” I grumbled.

“Cayro, we need to call my father. Now. He needs to know we've been revealed,” Star interjected, her voice cold and simmering with anger.

I turned to her. She hadn’t moved an inch from where she stood, frozen in place ever since the announcement played. Her face was a twisted mix of rage and fear, and I could see sparks of amethyst magic flickering in her eyes. If I had to guess, she was on the verge of turning that TV into a pile of rubble. Not that it would fix the situation, but knowing Star, smashing something would make her feel better.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I said calmly, trying to keep her from snapping. “But, uh, how are we supposed to reach him?”

“I’m already talking to Scuzball,” she responded darkly, her voice filled with an edge that hinted at the destruction she wanted to unleash.

An hour later, we were all gathered around the massive round walnut table in the formal dining room. Star’s suit helmet sat in the center, while Scuzball worked on establishing a secure connection to the Autumn. Star had briefed him, and it had only taken a few seconds for him to locate the news feed. The video had already gone viral, spreading across the internet like wildfire. The views were skyrocketing, and the comments were piling up faster than we could keep track of.

The helmet came to life, Scuzball’s voice echoing in the room. “Alright, connection is established.”

We all held our breath, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. No one dared to speak as we waited to see if the connection had been successful.

“Star? Cayro? Can you hear me?” came Dr. Zaraki’s voice from the helmet’s speakers.

“Yes, Sir,” Star and I replied in unison.

“Who’s with you?” he asked.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bracton, and Lyra,” Star answered, her voice steady but cold.

“So, we need to fill Mr. and Mrs. Bracton in on your... other attributes then?” he asked with a surprising amount of calm.

“You mean the fact that Star, Cayro, and Lyra aren’t fully human?” my grandfather asked bluntly.

“Uh…” Dr. Zaraki started, but my grandmother cut in before he could continue.

“Doctor, that secret’s been out since yesterday morning. We know Star is part dragonion… dracion... uh, something. Lyra’s a werewolf. And Cayro’s a werewolf-human hybrid,” she said matter-of-factly.

“The word you’re looking for is Draconian, Mrs. Bracton. And yes, that secret,” Dr. Zaraki replied, his tone flat but not without a hint of amusement.

“We’re aware of their... special traits,” my grandfather added, his voice laced with a hint of pride despite the circumstances.

“Well, that saves us some time,” Dr. Zaraki said, relieved. “By the way, it’s good to hear from you two. It’s been years. Did you ever get my Christmas cards?”

“Father, this is not the time for idle chit-chat. We have a serious problem here,” Star huffed, her patience clearly wearing thin.

“Fair point, Star,” Dr. Zaraki chuckled. His laugh echoed through the speakers, but there was something odd about it. A distinctly feminine laugh joined his, one that sounded strangely familiar to me.

“Uh, is someone else there with you?” I asked, confused. That second laugh definitely hadn’t come from him.

“Yes, in fact, we have a few people joining us on this call,” he answered smoothly.

I glanced at Star, hoping she had some idea of what was going on. She just shrugged, looking just as confused as I was.

“Who’s on the call with you, Father?” Star asked, her voice a mix of confusion and suspicion.

“Well, let’s see… Andrew is here next to me. Director Staroko and Dr. Volkova are calling in from SkyTeam. Oh, and we also have Lord Lycotonu from the North American Wolf Council Pack and his mate joining us,” Dr. Zaraki answered, listing off the names as casually as if he were reading off a guest list for a dinner party.

I heard someone choke on a gasp from a few seats down, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I turned to see Lyra sitting stiff as a board, her jaw practically on the table. Her expression was one of pure disbelief. Confused, I raised an eyebrow at her, as did everyone else seated around the table.

“A Lycotonu of the Lycotonu royal bloodline is on call with us,” she whispered, sounding utterly awestruck. The name felt vaguely familiar, but it didn’t immediately register.

“Okay... And?” I asked, still not understanding the significance.

Star leaned in closer to Lyra and spoke quietly. “Who is Lord Lycotonu?”

“Obviously, he’s the King of the Wolves,” Lyra replied, her voice louder than she probably intended. “The strongest werewolf to ever exist.”

As if on cue, a smooth, cool chuckle rang out through the speakers, followed by a voice that I hadn’t heard in months. “There’s no need for all the formality, Lyra Acosta,” the voice said, calm and regal. And then it hit me. I knew that voice—too well. We went to high school together. Flew together almost every weekend.

“Zak?” I blurted out, my eyes wide.

“Hello, Cayro. Long time no speak,” my best friend, Zak, replied smoothly.

I just sat there, stunned and speechless as the room fell into silence. Every pair of eyes at the table turned to me, but I couldn’t process any of it. My best friend—someone I considered a brother—was not only a werewolf but the freaking King of the werewolves? My mind was spinning.

Lyra, ever the one to break awkward silences, was the first to speak. “You know the King of the Wolves?” she asked, her tone thick with disbelief.

“Yes, Lyra. Cayro and I are best friends. We grew up together,” Zak replied casually, as if he were just talking about weekend plans.

“Where the hell have you been, Zak?” I asked, the shock still evident in my voice.

“Now’s not the time for that, bro,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious.

“Huh... That’s ironic coming from you,” a new voice chimed in—Director Staroko’s. “I seem to recall a time when you demanded answers to all your questions.”

“Seriously, father, now’s not the time to bring up family drama,” Zak grumbled, clearly irritated.

It suddenly dawned on me why Director Staroko had seemed so familiar. He was Zak’s father. How had I not realized this sooner? My confusion quickly turned into frustration, and without thinking, I slammed my hands onto the table, stood up abruptly, and shoved my chair back with a loud scrape.

“That’s it! I need a damned drink! Who wants one?” I called out over my shoulder, not waiting for a response as I stormed toward the kitchen.

I heard Star’s voice behind me, cautioning, “Cayro, are you sure now is a good time to drink?”

“I don’t see why not!” I shouted back from the kitchen. “Every five minutes, I’m getting smacked in the face with more revelations, and now my life is one twisted, chaotic mess!”

Returning to the dining room, I carried a bottle of Tin Cup whiskey, a bottle of Smirnoff, and five shot glasses. I quickly passed the glasses out, placing the bottles in the center of the table, and wasted no time uncorking the Tin Cup. I poured myself a shot and slammed it back, feeling the burn chase away some of my frustration. My grandfather raised an eyebrow at me but followed suit, pouring himself a shot. Before long, everyone—except Star—had poured themselves one, though she eventually gave in and poured a shot of Smirnoff.

Once the tension in the room eased ever so slightly, Dr. Zaraki spoke up, his voice cutting through the silence with authority. “Alright, now that we’ve all settled down, we need to address the matter at hand. What are we going to do about this information leak?”

“Is there any way to take the video down?” Dr. Volkova asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Unfortunately, it’s too late for that,” Andrew chimed in, his tone grave. “The video’s already gone viral. Over a million views and counting.”

“What if we issue a public statement denying their involvement with Team SAF?” Director Staroko suggested.

“That won’t work. The footage is too authentic. Star and Cayro’s performance was flawless, and that kiss at the end... well, it sealed the deal.” Andrew said, shooting down the idea.

The mention of the kiss brought a rush of embarrassment. I bit my lower lip, trying not to blush. Star looked just as uncomfortable, fidgeting in her seat. My grandfather, of course, shot me a cheeky wink, and I could feel my face heat up even more.

“Is there a way we can turn this to our advantage, instead of trying to fight it?” my grandfather asked suddenly, his tone thoughtful.

Dr. Zaraki paused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” my grandfather admitted. “But maybe we can use this exposure to increase Star and Cayro’s protection. If we can’t hide them anymore, maybe we can make them too public to be attacked without consequence.”

“Actually... about that,” Zak spoke up, finally breaking his silence. He had been quiet for most of the discussion so far

“About what?” Star ground out, her glare now fixed on the helmet.

“It was Aura and I who leaked the information to the news channel,” Zak revealed, his voice steady.

“Why on God’s green earth would you do something like that!” Dr. Volkova’s voice rang out, filled with shock and anger.

I blinked in disbelief, processing what had just come out of Zak’s mouth. Star, on the other hand, looked like she was about to explode. The rage was practically rolling off her in waves. My grandparents just sat there, momentarily speechless. Surprisingly, the only one who seemed calm was Lyra, quietly listening in with a neutral expression.

Zak didn’t flinch under the collective silence. “Putting them in the limelight, making them known, and associating them with the number one skyboarding team in the world gives them a form of protection from those who are hunting them,” he explained matter-of-factly.

“That actually makes a lot of sense. It’s helped us in a similar way,” Andrew chimed in, sounding thoughtful. “Well played, Lord Lycotonu.”

I watched as my grandfather leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. He poured himself another shot of whiskey, and I followed his lead. Star, however, didn’t seem to share our grandfather’s amusement. Instead, she reached over and poked her shot glass, tipping it over without bothering to drink. The anger on her face was palpable. I leaned in closer and whispered in her ear.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

“No,” she hissed, her voice barely controlled. “Your best friend just leaked our identity.”

I straightened up, taking in her words. She wasn’t wrong. They could have asked us first. Instead, we found out the same way everyone else did—through the damn news. Zak better have a plan, because he just put an enormous target on not only our backs but on my grandparents as well. I glanced over at my grandfather, waiting to see what he thought of all this.

“What’s your plan, Zak?” my grandfather asked patiently, leaning forward.

“I think we need to get Star and Cayro to compete in the upcoming competition taking place in Seoul, Korea,” Zak replied confidently.

“You mean the Competition Finale?” Andrew interjected.

“Correct. It’s one of the biggest events of the year,” Zak confirmed.

“We won’t be able to make it in time,” Andrew pointed out, sounding exasperated. “The Autumn isn’t scheduled for launch until early December. Besides, with all the repairs that need to be done, there’s no way the team will have enough time to practice for it.”

“What about a stand-in team?” Director Staroko suggested.

“We don’t have anyone who can stand in for us,” Andrew replied, frustration creeping into his voice.

While they debated, I leaned back, trying to think through the logistics. To compete, we needed a minimum of five team members. Most skyboarding teams had seven to eight members. Team Balfour had six, and Team SAF had eight. To make this work, we needed to put together a full team—and fast. I looked over at Lyra, an idea forming.

“Do you know how to skyboard?” I asked her.

“A little, but I’m not practiced enough to compete,” she replied cautiously.

“Would you be willing to learn?” Director Staroko asked, his voice calm but pressing.

“To help my Alpha and Luna? Of course,” she answered without hesitation.

“Okay, that gives us three members,” I said, feeling a bit more hopeful. “Zak, are you and Aura going to join us?”

“I... can’t,” he replied, his tone suddenly grim. “The council would have a collective apoplexy if Aura and I competed in the public eye.”

Damn. I frowned, mentally checking off the few options we had left. The Autumn’s crew was out due to repairs, and now Zak and Aura were off the table too. The list of potential teammates was shrinking fast, and I didn’t have anyone left.

“What about Cameron Balfour?” I heard Star suggest out of nowhere. I snapped my head toward her, blinking in surprise. Did she just ask for Cameron to join our team? After everything that happened between us, it was the last suggestion I expected from her.

“Hmm,” Director Staroko mused. “Team Balfour did pull out of all competitions after the incident last month. Let me talk to Finley. Cameron hasn’t been doing well since then.”

“Thank you, Director,” Star said quietly, her tone subdued.

I continued staring at her, still trying to process what I’d just heard. Of all people, she was suggesting Cameron—the guy who treated both of us like crap. Before I could voice my confusion, Star elbowed me hard in the side. I grunted, rubbing my ribs and glaring at her.

“What was that for?” I grumbled.

“Stop being territorial. We need the help,” she growled, her voice low and sharp.

“I wasn’t being…” I started, but Star’s glare cut me off mid-sentence.

“You were growling, and you had that look on your face,” she said, her voice sharp.

I blinked, confused. Was I really growling? I hadn’t noticed. When I glanced at the others, I saw the same concerned expressions. Okay, maybe I was. But it’s Cameron—he’s an arrogant, spoiled jerk with an ego that could block out the sun. It’s hard not to growl when you think about him.

Zak’s throat-clearing snapped me back to reality, and everyone’s attention shifted toward him.

“Anyway,” Zak continued, bringing the conversation back on track, “while we figure out the team situation, I’ve sent an envoy with a small group of Night Guardians. They’ll be arriving soon to escort all of you to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.”

“Why?” Star and I asked simultaneously.

“Your location’s been compromised,” Zak said, his voice grim. “You’re being watched. It’s only a matter of time before the people after you make their move.”

The silence was thick with tension. My heart thudded heavily in my chest. Watched? Since when? How long had they known? I felt Star’s unease beside me.

“When should we expect them?” my grandmother asked, her voice steady but laced with urgency.

“Sometime today—tonight at the latest,” Zak replied.

“Why Pigeon Forge…?” my grandfather began, but his question was interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock at the door.

Everyone froze, staring toward the hallway. I felt my stomach clench with dread as Lyra rose, heading toward the front door.

“I’ll get it,” she said, trying to sound calm.

We all sat, tension thick in the air, listening as she unlocked the door. The silence was unbearable.

“Dr. Maddox! What are you doing here?” Lyra’s voice called out, the surprise clear in her tone.

“Lord Lycotonu sent me as your envoy,” came a raspy, calm male voice from the doorway.

“Impeccable timing,” Zak commented, his voice faint through the speaker.

“Come in, Doctor,” Lyra offered, her voice a little steadier now.

Both my grandparents immediately sat up straighter, their expressions tense, as if they recognized something familiar about the voice. I watched them closely, noting the sudden rigidity in their posture. A strange look passed between them—something deeper than recognition. It was like a ghost from their past had just knocked on the door.

I heard the door shut, then footsteps approached. Lyra appeared first, stepping into the room, but the moment my grandfather’s eyes locked onto him, his expression changed. My grandmother, too, was staring at the man, her face pale as if she’d seen a ghost. When I finally looked at him, I froze in my chair. I my mind seizing as I stared at a man.

How? He was supposed to be dead… Was all that I could think at that very moment.

Then the man spoke looking directly at me, his raspy voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “Hello son,” he said in a cold, calm unsettling tone.