PROJECT: CAYRO

Star Zaraki:

October 19, 2025

13:07 EST

The Bracton House

Hampton, VA.

I stared in disbelief at the man who had just entered the dining room. It was undeniable. He looked like an older, more hardened version of Cayro—sharper cheekbones, hollow eyes void of any warmth, and nearly as tall as Mr. Bracton. There was no mistaking who this man was.

He moved past Lyra with a ghostly grace, like a wraith gliding across the room, and sat at the table between Cayro and Mr. Bracton, deliberately leaving wide gaps on either side. His broad-rimmed Stetson hid much of his face, while his dark gray button-down shirt, vest, and black slacks gave him an aura of cold menace. The long rider’s coat draped over his shoulders like a villain’s cape, and the silver chain with a matching pendant hanging from his neck shimmered ominously at his chest.

It was Mrs. Bracton who broke the unbearable silence. Her confusion twisted quickly into outrage and fury. If she could have committed murder right then, I don’t think anyone in the room would’ve tried to stop her. Beside me, I clung to Cayro’s arm with all my strength, struggling to keep him in place. His body tensed like a coiled spring, ready to explode.

“HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE!” Mrs. Bracton bellowed, standing abruptly. Mr. Bracton grabbed her arm, holding her in place. His face was cold, unreadable, like stone, as though he were calculating something behind his impassive gaze.

Captain Bracton raised his right hand, and the pendant on his chest glowed with a dull golden light. A ripple of energy pulsed through the room, washing over all of us. I felt my muscles relax involuntarily, a strange calmness seeping into my bones, forcing me to sink back into my chair. Cayro seemed similarly affected, his anger subdued, though his eyes still burned with hatred. Even Mr. and Mrs. Bracton looked dazed, trapped in this sudden forced tranquility.

“What’s going on, Star?” my father’s voice broke the uneasy stillness, tinged with confusion and concern.

“I… I…” I stammered, struggling to explain how a man we all thought was dead now sat in front of us, controlling the room with a flick of his hand.

“Hello, Howling Mad. It's been a long time,” Captain Bracton spoke coldly.

“Ja… Ja… Jacob?” my father’s voice stuttered in disbelief, something I had never heard before. It completely threw him.

“I see you’ve made it safely, Dr. Maddox,” Zak’s smooth voice cut through the tension with a veneer of calm.

“Thank you, Lord Lycotonu. The trip was uneventful. The Night Guardians are in position, keeping watch while we prepare to leave,” Captain Bracton replied evenly.

His gaze shifted toward Mr. and Mrs. Bracton, both still paralyzed by the calming wave. “I’m here to protect and escort you all to Pigeon Forge. There’s no time for old grievances or fights,” he said flatly, his eyes now locked on Cayro.

A low growl rumbled from Cayro’s chest, his eyes glowing with that eerie, dangerous yellow hue that always sent a shiver down my spine. He didn’t move, but I could feel the battle raging inside him. He wanted blood, and it was taking everything in him to keep from lunging across the table. Whatever spell his father had cast on us, it hadn’t completely tamed his fury.

“I know you're angry, Cayro. But right now, I need you to focus. We’ll deal with the past once you're safe,” Captain Bracton continued, his voice calm but commanding.

Cayro stopped growling, but the tension between father and son was nearly a visible force. His body was still rigid with barely contained rage, and I had no doubt that given the chance, he would have torn his father apart. And honestly? I wouldn’t have stopped him. This man had caused everything Cayro had been put through.

“Star, go pack your and Cayro’s belongings from your rooms. Lyra, help her,” Captain Bracton ordered, never taking his eyes off his son. The invisible grip he had on me released, but I had no intention of obeying.

“I’m not leaving Cayro alone with you,” I said, my voice sharp and defiant. I wasn’t taking orders from this man. Not after everything he’d done.

He shifted his jaw from side to side, his eyes calculating, before giving a subtle nod. The release of whatever hold Captain Bracton had cast on us came at once, and I immediately felt Cayro tense in my grasp. His entire body seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage, and when his eyes snapped to mine, they were burning—no, blazing—with a molten gold fury. His teeth were bared, and his canines had extended far beyond their normal length, sharper and more dangerous. He was on the verge of losing control. I could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him in waves. This was bad—very bad. If I didn’t calm him down, I knew I might witness the same deadly frenzy that had taken place on the Death Reckoning.

“Babe, look at me. Look at me,” I whispered urgently, gripping his face with both hands, trying to force him to focus on me and not the threat sitting next to him. His eyes locked onto mine, but they were feral, distant, like a predator barely restrained from tearing apart its prey. I reached out with my presence, hoping to soothe him, but I hit the same cold, impenetrable barrier he'd erected in his mind—the same one from before, no cracks, no weaknesses. It was as if the wolf had completely taken over.

I rose to my feet, maintaining eye contact with him, stepping backward slowly, pulling him with me. He followed, his movements predatory, graceful, like a wolf stalking its target. There was no hesitation, no humanity behind his golden eyes. Just instinct.

I had to think fast. He was teetering on the edge, and if I didn’t redirect him soon, he was going to go back into that dining room and rip his father—and probably his grandparents—apart. My heart raced as I wracked my brain for a solution. Wolves hunt. I had to give him something to hunt.

The problem? That something had to be me.

I swallowed hard, my own instincts recoiling at the idea of becoming prey, but I didn’t have a choice. I reached the base of the stairs and, without another word, released his face. In an instant, I spun around and bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Behind me, I heard a vicious snarl tear from his throat, followed by the thunder of his heavy footsteps as he gave chase. The sound sent adrenaline surging through my veins. I shifted into my draconian form mid-sprint, the added strength propelling me even faster. I flew down the hall, the door to our bedroom in sight.

I dove inside, slamming the door shut behind me. Barely a second passed before Cayro came barreling in, the door crashing open with a deafening thud. He stormed into the room, wild, feral, and I could barely register the speed at which he moved before his hands were on me. He grabbed my wrists and slammed them against the wall above my head, pinning me in place with his entire body.

A guttural growl rumbled from deep within his chest, sending shivers through me. His eyes—bright, molten gold—bored into mine, his face so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The scent of him—smoky, earthy, like hickory burning in a fire—hit me hard, and I felt a wave of desire ripple through me, igniting something primal in my core. I knew, in this moment, there were only two possibilities: He was either going to tear me apart, or we were about to have the most primal, intense session of our lives.

I hoped—needed—it to be the latter.

His mouth hovered at my throat, his breath hot against my skin as he inhaled deeply, and I felt the sharp graze of his teeth as they brushed against my neck. A wave of fear mixed with the molten heat flooding my lower abdomen, but I didn’t pull away. I pressed into him instead, the rumble in my chest deepening to an almost purring sound, answering the primal need that echoed between us.

Mature Content Follows:

A snarl escaped him as he pinned me tighter, his arousal thick and pressing hard against me. His scent, intoxicating and heady, clouded my thoughts, pushing me further into a haze of lust and want. I let out a low moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling his body closer to mine. His hips ground into me in response, and the sensation sent electric jolts through every nerve in my body.

Damn, I wanted him—needed him.

I reached out mentally, hammering against the barrier he had erected in his mind, desperate to break through. I needed to feel him—all of him. When the barrier didn’t give, I snarled in frustration, pushing harder. My desire turned into a sharp spike, and I drove it into his mind, shattering the wall between us.

He growled in response, but this time it was different—angrier, deeper. His teeth sank into my shoulder, and a sharp pain radiated through me. I gasped, but the pain only intensified my need. It fueled me, and I pushed deeper into his mind, flooding him with my emotions, my desires. If words wouldn’t reach him, then I’d make him feel it. I showed him exactly what I wanted—what I needed.

In that moment, there was no hesitation. He felt my desires, and his barriers fell completely.

He released one of my wrists, his hand sliding down my body, rough and possessive. In a quick motion, he yanked my shirt and bra over my head, leaving me exposed to him. My breath hitched, and I broke my other hand free from his grasp, raking my talons down his chest, shredding his shirt as I went. He growled, low and disapproving, but before he could react, I hooked one of my talons under his belt and snapped it clean. The look of surprise on his face sent a rush through me, my hips rocking against his arousal, begging for more.

Before he could stop me, I clawed at the waistband of his pants, slicing through them and tearing them down the sides. He let out a grunt, more animal than human. Using that moment of surprise, I flexed, pushing him back with my hips. He stumbled, grabbing me with one arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me down with him as he hit the edge of the bed. His grip slipped from my wrist as he fell, and I immediately took advantage of my freedom.

In a frenzy, I ripped his pants and boxers away, discarding them like they were nothing, before quickly sliding out of my own. I stood there for just a second, watching him, my breath heavy with anticipation. Then I let out a low, challenging growl, daring him to come for me again. He didn’t hesitate. In a heartbeat, I was back against the wall, pinned as he ground his hips into mine.

This time, my hands were free. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as I felt the heat of him press against me. He growled deep in his throat, his arms tightening around me as he moved. His bare arousal slid against mine, and I let out a soft moan, my breath catching at the sensation.

Locking my arms around his neck, I pressed my forehead to his, staring into his golden eyes, still wild and untamed. Without breaking eye contact, I arched my hips, guiding him to me. I gasped as I felt him enter, the sensation overwhelming as I flexed my legs and sank down on him. A sharp, pleasurable pain tore through me, something inside snapping as he filled me completely.

We paused, our bodies locked together in a way we had never experienced before, letting the new sensation settle in. I kept my forehead pressed against his, staring into his eyes as I felt him begin to move. He pulled out, and the emptiness was unbearable—I growled low in my throat, my body already begging for him to return. And then he slammed back into me, hard, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. My vision blurred as stars exploded behind my eyelids, a moan ripping from my throat as my claws sank into his shoulders, hard enough to draw blood.

But he was relentless, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper and more forceful. I met him, every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through my overloading senses. My body was teetering on the edge of something massive, something primal, building inside me, ready to consume me whole.

I kissed him fiercely, my mouth hungry, desperate, as the wave hit me, tearing through my body. My core tightened around him, gripping him as if my body refused to let him go. He shuddered against me, his own release following as I felt his arousal pulse inside me, filling me completely. My body went limp against his, trembling uncontrollably as aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through me.

Panting, I broke the kiss, my eyes still locked on his. His emerald green

eyes gazed back, pupils blown wide, his chest heaving against mine. The barriers he had built, the walls that kept his emotions and thoughts from me, were gone—completely shattered. Our presences were one, interwoven in a way I had never felt before. I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. It was intoxicating, and I wanted more.

He was mine—completely mine.

“Are you okay?” he finally rumbled, his voice rough but tender, concern flickering in those green eyes.

“Mhm,” I breathed, still recovering, my body trembling from the intensity of it all.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, his tone softer now, but there was still that dangerous edge to his voice. “I could have killed you.”

“I don’t think so,” I murmured, my voice barely audible, though I felt the truth of it deep within me.

He tried to pull away, but I wasn’t ready to let him go. I tightened my legs around his waist, feeling his arousal still hard inside me. The movement sent another shock of pleasure through me, and I let out a soft moan, locking him deeper into me. More sparks of desire flickered through our shared presence, a connection so deep and visceral that I never wanted it to end.

“No, don’t pull away from me, Cayro,” I whined softly.

He gave me a questioning look, but before he could say anything, I leaned in and kissed him, pulling him with me. He lifted me from the wall without breaking the kiss and carried me to the bed. Gently, he laid me down, ensuring our connection stayed intact. We spent what felt like hours, slowly exploring this newfound bond, savoring every touch, every whispered breath, as if the world outside ceased to exist.

End of Mature Content:

When we were finally spent, I lay sprawled across his body, still in my draconian form. His hand idly traced circles on my back, a hum of satisfaction escaping me as I buried my face into the crook of his neck. His scent—smoky, warm, and undeniably his—soothed me. He was still partially shifted too, his elongated canines and sharpened nails evident now that we lay there, calmed. The sharpness of his features, the contrast to his usual self, was fascinating.

Using my thumb, I pressed lightly against one of his canines, marveling at the sharpness.

“How do you feel?” I asked, my voice a lazy whisper.

“Hmm,” he rumbled. “Content.”

“No more blood rage?” I asked, my tone cautious, half expecting to feel a ripple of that beastly anger again.

“No, not anymore. My inner beast feels… calm, content,” he said, his voice even, almost distant as if surprised by his own words.

“Do you think you’re ready to go face your father now?” I asked softly, lifting my head just enough to see his face.

A shadow passed over his eyes, darkening them. “I’m still angry at him… but if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have you,” he admitted, the calm tone returning, though I could still sense the tension beneath it all.

“We’ll have to face him eventually,” I reminded him, knowing the storm between them would come, one way or another.

“I know,” he grumbled, his arms tightening around me briefly before loosening as I moved.

I kissed him softly, my lips brushing against his before I pulled away and started to gather our things. “Happy Birthday,” I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips.

His only response was a soft rumble, almost a purr. Despite the distance between our bodies, I could still feel him—us—connected. The bond between us was like a tightly woven thread, unbreakable. I could feel everything he was feeling, sense his emotions swirling beneath the surface, and glimpses of his memories danced in my mind like faint echoes. It was an odd, yet comforting sensation.

I started packing, tossing our ruined clothes aside and gathering what we’d need for the road. Most of our gear was still packed away in the skycar, waiting in case we needed to leave quickly. Pulling out a fresh set of clothes, I handed them to Cayro, placing them on his chest with a playful kiss.

“Are you going down like that?” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Like what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In your draconian form,” he said, waving a hand up and down to emphasize.

I shrugged, shouldering the bags. “I’m content with it now. I don’t care what others think, just what you think.”

He smiled, that deep rumble of his echoing again as he walked over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we headed out. Together, we descended the stairs and entered the dining room, where Captain Bracton still sat, a mug of coffee in hand. He sat alone now, Mr. Bracton at the far end of the table, as far from his son as possible. Mrs. Bracton and Lyra were nowhere to be seen.

Mr. Bracton’s gaze shifted from his son to us, a knowing smile creeping across his face. “Feel better?” he asked, his voice light, teasing.

My cheeks heated instantly, embarrassment washing over me. Cayro’s arm tightened around me, his embarrassment mirroring mine through our bond.

“Sorry, Grandpa… for, uh, breaking the rules,” Cayro said, his tone sheepish.

“At this point, that’s the least of my concerns,” Mr. Bracton said nonchalantly. “I’d rather the two of you be having sex than having to mop up a blood bath after you rip your father to shreds.”

Captain Bracton choked on his coffee, sputtering mid-sip. I couldn’t help but grin, snuggling deeper into Cayro’s side, glad we didn’t need to explain ourselves. Mrs. Bracton walked up behind us and patted me on the shoulder.

“We knew it was bound to happen eventually, Star,” she said, offering both Cayro and me mugs of coffee.

“So, they’re back?” my father’s voice crackled through the helmet’s speaker.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady.

“That’s good. While you two were... occupied, Jacob filled us in on where he’s been and why he faked his death,” my father explained, the weight of his words pressing down on the room.

“I don’t really care to hear it right now,” Cayro grumbled, his resentment laced with sharp edges, coursing through the connection we shared. He wasn't ready for this—facing his father so soon after all the hell he'd been through. His emotions felt like raw, jagged glass cutting through me.

Before anyone could react or respond, I felt Cayro yank me down toward the floor. Time seemed to slow as Captain Bracton shot to his feet in an instant. My eyes caught the ripple of energy forming near the outer wall of the dining room, just moments before a massive explosion erupted. The world dissolved into fire and chaos, and Cayro’s body shielded mine as the shockwave rocked the house, sending debris and shards of the wall flying past us.

Dazed, I blinked, looking past Cayro’s shoulder to see a gaping hole where the wall had been. Smoke and flames licked the edges, the stench of burning wood and plaster filling my nose. Cayro scrambled off me, pulling me to my feet in one fluid motion. I spotted my helmet lying on its side amidst the destruction, its visor reflecting the carnage.

Grabbing the helmet quickly, I caught sight of Captain Bracton hauling Mr. Bracton toward the hallway. “EVACUATE!” Captain Bracton bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

“Scuzball, get the skycar airborne!” I barked into my coms, my voice thick with urgency.

“I can’t get out through the garage door, they’ve blocked the front,” Scuzball replied, his tone calm but firm.

“Then blow the damn wall out in front of you!” I roared back.

Another explosion rang out, this one from the kitchen’s direction. The force sent a shockwave that rippled through the structure, rattling the walls around us. We bolted toward the garage, weaving through the debris and flames. Along the way, we found Mrs. Bracton and Lyra taking cover behind the kitchen counter, their faces streaked with fear.

Mr. Bracton rushed forward, grabbing Mrs. Bracton by the arm, while Cayro effortlessly scooped up Lyra in his arms. We raced to the garage, diving in as Scuzball prepared the skycar for a rapid escape. It was then I realized the skycar wouldn’t be able to fit everyone—not with all of our gear packed in. There was barely room for Lyra, let alone two more adults.

“Cayro!” Mr. Bracton called out, his voice rising above the chaos. “Take the Ninja!” He tossed Cayro the keys, and without hesitation, Cayro caught them midair and darted toward the old motorcycle parked in the corner.

Mr. Bracton reached into the skycar, pulling out Cayro’s helmet and tossing it to him. The sleek black and red motorcycle roared to life under Cayro’s skilled hands. As Mr. Bracton, Mrs. Bracton, and Lyra piled into the skycar, Cayro tossed another set of keys to Captain Bracton.

Captain Bracton swung a leg over the other motorcycle—an all-black beast of a machine—and it rumbled to life, its growl deep and menacing. I slipped my helmet on and climbed onto the back of Cayro’s bike, wrapping my arms around his waist as he walked the bike backward to line up with the gaping hole in the garage wall.

The skycar revved ahead of us, firing a beam of light that blasted an opening through the debris in our path. I felt the bike jolt as Cayro revved the throttle, the engine roaring to life beneath me. He kicked the machine into gear, and we tore out through the opening at breakneck speed.

The bike fishtailed as we hit the dirt outside, but Cayro’s grip was sure, and he quickly brought the monstrous machine under control. We sped through the yard, dodging smoldering debris, before cutting across the neighbor’s lawn and onto the connecting road. As soon as we hit the pavement, Cayro shifted, twisting the throttle. The front wheel lifted off the ground, and we screamed down the street, the wind whipping past us.

“Scuzball, where the hell are we going?” Cayro asked, his voice cool but tense over the coms link.

“Working on it…” Scuzball’s voice hummed through my helmet. A map blinked onto my HUD, showing a route marked in red, directing us toward safety.

I tightened my grip on Cayro as he leaned the bike into a sharp turn, nearly parallel with the ground. My heart leaped into my throat as the pavement skimmed by, close enough to touch if I dared. Cayro righted the bike smoothly, shifting gears and rocketing us forward. My HUD flashed, showing our speed climbing past ninety miles per hour.

“You’ve got a tail on your six,” Scuzball chimed in coolly.

“Can you take them out?” Cayro asked, his voice edged with focus.

“Too much civilian coverage. I could hurt someone,” Scuzball replied flatly.

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted three massive black SUVs barreling after us, their engines roaring in pursuit. Cayro downshifted, braking hard as he took another sharp corner, the bike leaning impossibly close to the ground. I could feel the raw power of the machine beneath me as he corrected the fishtail and accelerated again, shooting us out onto the main road. The bike screamed with power, the speedometer flashing as we rocketed past houses and storefronts.

Another shift, another burst of speed. The SUVs were still on us, their dark forms looming closer. Cayro’s movements were precise, calculated, but I could sense the tension in his body. He was locked into the moment, his focus razor-sharp as we tore down the highway, the city blurring past us.

“They’re gaining,” I growled into the coms, my eyes locked on the rearview HUD.

“Not for long,” Cayro said, his voice low and fierce as he shifted again, sending the bike screaming forward with a burst of raw speed.

“Cayro, you need to get out of the city. Get on I-64 and head west toward Richmond,” Scuzball directed, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Gunshots rang out behind us, and Cayro banked hard to the left, cutting off a car as he gunned the throttle. The distinct ping of bullets hitting metal echoed in the air before the sound of screeching tires followed. I heard a civilian car spin out, its tires screaming against the pavement. Cayro weaved in and out of traffic, dodging cars with precision, all while bullets hit the ground near us, far too close for comfort.

As soon as we reached the highway, we screamed past a State Trooper who immediately flicked his lights on and pulled out into traffic, joining the chase. I caught a glimpse of the flashing lights in the side mirror, but my heart sank when the black SUVs tailing us closed in fast. One of the SUVs pulled alongside the patrol car and slammed into its rear corner panel. The cop swerved wildly before crashing into another car in a sickening screech of metal on metal.

“Cayro… they just took out the cop car,” I said over the coms, my voice tight with shock.

“I saw. Just hang on. Scuzball says we have an interception up ahead,” Cayro replied, his voice steady, but I could sense the tension.

We zipped past semitrucks, darting in and out of the lanes. Each time we squeezed between the hulking machines, my heart leapt into my throat. One wrong move and we’d be obliterated. I prayed silently that none of the trucks would clip us, knowing full well that even with our enhanced bodies, we wouldn’t stand a chance against one of those behemoths.

As soon as Captain Bracton cleared the last truck, the rigs ahead began to merge, creating a wall that spanned all lanes, blocking the road entirely. Something was off. My eyes scanned ahead and spotted it—another semi dead ahead with a box van, its doors dragging on the ground, forming a makeshift ramp.

I felt the bike surge forward, accelerating as we raced toward the ramp.

“CAYRO!” I screamed through the coms, my voice edged with panic.

The bike bucked as we hit the ramp, going airborne for what felt like an eternity. Time stretched out, and my breath caught in my chest as we flew into the open trailer. The bike skidded to a bone-jarring stop just before hitting the bulkhead. Captain Bracton’s bike followed suit, screeching to a halt next to us. The trailer door slammed shut behind us with a loud clang, plunging us into darkness.

I sat there, trembling on the back of the bike, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Flying was one thing, but this—this was a whole new level of chaos. I heard the engine cut out as Cayro leaned forward, pulling his helmet off, but I couldn’t let go of him. I clung to him, my breathing shaky and uneven.

“Star, you can let go,” he said softly, his voice calm and reassuring.

“I can’t…” I replied, my voice trembling, my grip locked onto him like a lifeline.

Cayro turned slightly, prying my arms off gently before helping me off the bike. My legs wobbled, nearly buckling beneath me as I stood on shaky ground. I felt another set of hands steady me from behind while Cayro propped the bike up on its kickstand. A flashlight flickered to life, casting long shadows as it illuminated the trailer’s interior. Straps lay piled in the corner, neatly coiled.

“Cayro, help me secure the bikes before they shift around,” Captain Bracton instructed, his voice cutting through the tension as he grabbed the straps.

I stood there, still shaking, trying to regain control of myself while Cayro and his father worked quickly to secure the motorcycles. It didn’t take long. Cayro walked over to me, sitting down next to where I leaned against the trailer wall, looking pale and still trembling. His helmet flashlight clicked on, casting a soft glow around us. That’s when I saw it—tears in his shirt, and blood slowly seeping from a wound near his stomach.

“You’re hurt!” I exclaimed, my voice sharp with worry.

“It’s not really bad. Just some scratches,” Cayro replied with a shrug, downplaying it. “You had a death grip on me the whole ride.”

I blinked in surprise, glancing down at my hands. I was still in my draconian form, claws and all. I stared at them, horrified that I’d hurt him without even realizing it. Shame washed over me like a tidal wave.

“Oh…” I murmured, curling my hands into fists as I averted my gaze to the floor of the trailer.

“It’s not a big deal… you should see my back from earlier,” Cayro teased with a playful grin. “You did a number on it.”

I shot him a half-hearted glare, but it faded as he pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me. The warmth of his body calmed the last shreds of my panic. I relaxed against him, leaning my head on his chest. Moments passed in silence, the adrenaline finally ebbing away. It was Captain Bracton who broke the quiet, sitting down against the opposite wall, watching us with those cold, hollowed eyes.

For now, we were safe. But I knew this wasn’t over.