PROJECT: CAYRO

Cayro Bracton:

October 19, 2025

16:21 EST

Semi-Truck

I-64 W, VA.

Wrapping my arms around Star, I stared at the man who had turned my life into a nightmare. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him anymore. When I was younger, I missed him—my father, the man who was supposed to raise me, to be there. But as I got older, that sadness twisted into resentment, and then into full-blown hatred when I learned the truth of what he'd done to me. This wasn’t just abandonment. No. He had orchestrated the chaos that had destroyed the life I had known. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone this much—until now.

But amidst the hurricane that was my life, Star was the one anchor holding me together. Without her, I would have shattered. There was no question about it. Somehow, the hell my father had plunged me into had also given me the greatest gift: her. And for that, the hate that boiled in me was tempered, but only slightly.

Still, I needed answers. No more silence. I narrowed my eyes at my father, the cold man sitting across from me.

“I think it’s time you start explaining why you’re alive, and why you did what you did to me.” My voice left no room for argument.

He arched a brow, crossing his arms like he didn’t owe me a damn thing. But he had no idea who he was facing anymore. I wasn’t a helpless kid anymore. And Star wasn’t the kind to let this pass either. Both of us were in perfect sync now, our desires, our intentions—hell, even our rage—it was all intertwined. This man’s life hung on the answers he gave us, or didn’t.

“Captain Bracton,” Star’s voice cut through the tension, cold and sharp as ice. “I suggest you give us what we want, or Cayro and I will have no problem putting you back in the grave you should’ve stayed in.”

He scoffed, his tone matching hers, “I’d like to see you try.”

“We don’t have to try.” Her reply was so deadly calm it sent shivers down my spine. In an instant, both of us were holding orbs of energy, mine glowing a menacing green, hers, a bright and violent purple. The trailer interior lit up with the colors, casting a surreal glow across his face.

I saw it then—his expression faltered. For the first time since he walked into that dining room, I saw doubt creep into his eyes. The two monsters he had created were now staring him down, united. Slowly, he swallowed and deflated like a balloon with a pinhole. It was oddly satisfying.

“Now that we have your attention, father,” I growled, baring my elongated canines with a malicious grin, “Start talking.”

The truck rocked as it hit a bump, and he finally uncrossed his arms, adjusting his posture to sit cross-legged, his hands settling uneasily in his lap. There was no confidence now—just resignation.

“Where would you like me to begin?” he asked, sounding more solemn than I had ever heard him.

“Why don’t you start with why you’re alive,” Star said bluntly.

A silence settled as he gathered his thoughts. The truck hummed along the road while I traced small circles on Star’s abdomen, the feeling of her skin grounding me.

“After Project Cayro was shut down,” he started, his voice devoid of its earlier arrogance, “I was assigned to another project I had been working on for years. Even before the project that created you, Cayro.”

“I thought you were sent overseas to disarm some kind of nuclear weapon?” I interrupted, frowning.

“That’s only half true. I did go overseas, but I didn’t go to disarm a weapon. I went to build one. And test it.”

“A new weapon?” I echoed, my curiosity piqued despite myself.

“Yes,” he said, his gaze unwavering, “A weapon more powerful and destructive than any nuclear warhead.”

I blinked, exchanging a glance with Star. She looked just as confused as I felt. A weapon more destructive than a nuke? That didn’t make any sense. Nuclear power was the most devastating force known to mankind.

“Captain Bracton,” Star spoke up, skepticism lacing her words, “How could there possibly be a force greater than nuclear fission or fusion? The energy from splitting or smashing atoms is the most powerful thing on Earth.” Through our bond, I could feel the confusion churning in her mind, mirroring my own. Even with her enhanced knowledge, this defied logic.

“That is a very good question, Star,” my father replied, his tone shifting into that of a teacher about to reveal something profound. “There are inherent laws that hold our reality together. One of those laws is the Law of Conservation of Energy.”

“Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only converted from one form to another,” Star recited mechanically.

“Correct. However… what if energy could be created or destroyed?” he asked, a strange glint in his eyes, as if he was letting us in on some forbidden knowledge.

“That’s not possible,” Star replied instantly, crossing her arms and leaning back into me, eyes narrowing.

“On the contrary,” my father continued, “nothing is impossible. It’s only improbable—until a method is revealed to make it probable.”

I felt Star tense against me. He was playing word games. There was no way this made sense. If energy could be created or destroyed, it would shatter the very foundation of our world. As I sifted through the high school physics classes I vaguely remembered, Star’s own extensive knowledge trickled through our bond, helping me piece things together.

“If energy could be destroyed or created, it would destabilize everything,” I interjected, frustration creeping into my voice. “Atoms wouldn’t be able to bind together. The fabric of our reality would collapse in on itself.”

“Ah, now you’re starting to understand.” His voice held a disturbing level of excitement, as if the idea of unmaking the universe thrilled him. I blinked at him, my confusion turning to something darker. Why the hell was he excited about the concept of reality unraveling?

“I see you’re confused,” he added, clearly relishing this twisted lesson. “Let me explain. If energy is removed from a space that should contain it, atoms begin to drift apart, but the act of separation itself requires energy. So now, you have a pocket of matter, unable to interact—locked in a state of inaction. But by nature, energy has to occur. The question becomes, where does the energy come from?”

His explanation wasn’t just confusing—it was unsettling. The idea that atoms, the very building blocks of existence, could just drift apart because energy was removed… It didn’t make sense. How could there be a void in which energy simply didn’t exist?

“I see you're starting to understand the problem now, Cayro,” my father said, eyeing me like I was some kind of student in one of his twisted lessons.

“Not really,” I shot back, a bitter edge creeping into my voice. “It’s impossible for matter to exist in a space devoid of energy. There would have to be some form of energy present.”

“Exactly! Bingo! You just answered the first question,” he said with pride that made my blood boil.

I shot him a deadly glare, warning him that if he didn’t cut to the chase, I’d throw him out of this truck—while it was still moving.

Star, on the other hand, was getting drawn deeper into his explanation, her curiosity piqued despite her anger. “What happens if matter is caught in a place with no energy?” she asked cautiously, eyes narrowing as if she were about to challenge him.

“Ah, now that’s the key question.” His voice shifted into a tone like he was speaking to a bright student. “Where does the energy come from to restore the matter to its natural state? This is where String Theory comes into play.”

“String Theory?” Star asked, her interest now fully engaged. I nodded, familiar with the term, but still not following where he was going with all of this.

“Exactly. According to String Theory, the energy that is missing must be dragged in from somewhere else. But where? You can’t just take it from another part of our reality—that would deplete it. The matter would need to move to where raw energy is abundant. That’s where the idea of interdimensional transport comes in.”

“Wait… are you talking about matter shifting between dimensions?” Star asked, her voice taking on a sharp edge.

“Correct!” he exclaimed, like a madman on the verge of discovery. “Because the matter no longer has energy, it can either exist or not exist, depending on the state of energy around it.”

“Schrödinger’s Cat,” I muttered, the absurdity of this conversation finally hitting a familiar philosophical concept.

“Precisely!” my father continued, completely ignoring the tension between us. “The matter can now ‘jump’ to a different reality—one that has the energy necessary to sustain it.”

I glanced at Star, who had fallen silent, deep in thought. Whatever my father was talking about made no sense to me, but Star was processing it at a level I couldn’t quite reach. Through our bond, I could see her mind whirring, equations flashing, pieces of a complex puzzle forming in her mind. It was like watching a supercomputer at work.

Finally, she spoke, breaking out of her trance-like state. “The theory might work, but where would there be enough raw energy besides something like a star?”

“Ah,” my father replied, a knowing smirk crossing his face, “and that’s the crux of the matter. When matter leaves one reality, it must be replaced by something of equal mass and energy. Otherwise, both realities become unbalanced.”

Star stiffened next to me, and I could feel her mind racing again, trying to make sense of the puzzle he was laying out. But none of this felt right.

Tension simmered between us, and the weight of his words only stoked the fire.

I shot my father a cold glare, adjusting Star as she sat in my lap, her tail rhythmically tapping the floor of the trailer. It was almost amusing—like she was drumming her fingers against a desk as she thought through what my father had explained. I ran my hand down the length of her tail, eliciting a small shudder from her.

“Stop that... I’m trying to think,” she snapped, swatting at my hand.

I chuckled, leaning back against the wall of the trailer. The rough ride was becoming more irritating by the second, each bump jarring me, rattling my patience. Enough of this science lecture. He still hadn’t answered the question I really wanted answered.

“Can you get to the point?” I growled, feeling the tension coil in my muscles.

“Fine…” he grumbled, a bit of the smugness leaving his voice. “The weapon tore a hole in our reality and sucked matter from this world—replacing it with matter from another reality.”

Star’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding, her excitement leaking through our bond. “Ohhh! That makes sense now,” she said, her voice animated.

“That explains the weapon,” I said sharply, “but it doesn’t explain what happened to you.”

"I... and several others were sucked into the other reality,” my father said with a calmness that made my blood boil.

I shot him a flat, disbelieving look. “Bullshit.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Believe me, don’t believe me—that’s up to you. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

As if to punctuate his words, the truck hit another rough bump, launching me into the air. I crashed hard onto my back, Star landing sprawled on top of me. She let out an aggravated sigh, clearly displeased her thoughts had been thoroughly interrupted.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, pushing the hair from her face.

“Yeah... Now I’ve lost my train of thought,” she muttered irritably.

I kissed her cheek, trying to soothe her frustration. My father, however, didn’t even flinch from the jarring bump. He was now hovering, cross-legged, completely unaffected by the turbulence. It only irritated me further.

“Have you always been able to use magic?” I asked, shifting to another question that had been gnawing at me.

“No. The magic is a side effect from my time in the other reality,” he answered nonchalantly, as if it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. There was something he wasn’t telling us—something critical. “Let me guess—you knew about this darker reality long before I was born, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, almost too casually. “I discovered it when I was in high school.”

“Then why the hell did you drag me into this mess?” My voice was tight with restrained anger. “If you knew how dangerous it was, why involve me?”

“To protect you,” he answered, his tone still maddeningly calm.

“You’re an idiot…” I snarled.

“Immoral, maybe. An idiot? No,” he said sternly, standing his ground.

He wasn’t denying it. At least he could admit to being a heartless bastard. But that didn’t explain why he had abandoned me. Why didn’t he come back when he figured out how to return to this reality?

“Then why didn’t you return home once you figured out how to come back?” I fired back, the frustration and anger clawing at my insides.

He gave me a dismissive wave, as if my question was beneath him. “For the same reason I did what I did to you.”

“And that was?” I growled, the air in the trailer growing thick with tension.

“To protect you,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a low growl.

That was it. The dam inside me broke. I leaped to my feet, knocking Star off my lap. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing my arm, trying to hold me back as I stalked toward him. The rage boiled over, searing every nerve in my body. He turned me into a monster, abandoned me, and now he had the nerve to claim it was for my own good?

“Protect me?!” I roared. “You’ve done nothing but hurt me! You turned me into your personal science experiment and then left me! Now you show up, acting like you’re doing me a favor, and you can’t even give me a straight answer!”

My father stood up, his boots thudding against the floor of the trailer, walking straight into my personal space. He towered over me, his cold, emotionless eyes boring into mine. There wasn’t a trace of fear in him. His presence was imposing, almost suffocating as he leaned down, his nose inches from mine.

“Would it really matter what I told you, Little Jacob?” he spat, the venom in his voice sharp and cutting.

“Possibly,” I bit back, glaring into his eyes. My own glowed faintly, flickering between green and yellow, reflecting my barely contained rage.

“I chose not to return because doing so would have exposed you to a world you were not ready for,” he growled back, his voice hard as stone.

“You could have prepared me!” I snapped, fury clawing at my throat. How could he not understand? How could he stand there, so calmly, when his choices had nearly destroyed me?

“I did prepare you for it. Everything you're going through now is getting you ready to face the world that enslaved me for nearly three decades. The same world that killed your mother and Star’s mother,” my father growled, his voice low and simmering with coldness.

I felt my throat tighten, words dying in my mouth as I stared into his eyes. He knew who killed our mothers? And what did he mean by being enslaved? My thoughts raced in a whirlwind of confusion and fury. This man—my father—was a complete enigma, and the more I learned, the more questions spun in my head. Who was he really?

“You’re barely scratching the surface of this hidden world, a world that lives alongside humans—dark, menacing, and corrupt. The two of you were destined for it long before you were born. And to ensure your survival and freedom, I did what I had to. I may not have raised you, I may have done some terrible things, and I may have hurt you, son, but everything I did was to protect you. Whether you like it or not, everything I did was for your benefit,” he continued, his tone harsh, words dripping with cold finality.

Before I could even process the weight of his words, Star gently pulled me back, turning my head toward her. I looked into her eyes, feeling the warmth and concern she radiated. Her hands cupped my cheeks, and I knew she was searching for something deeper in my gaze, trying to gauge my state of mind.

“Come on,” she said softly, her voice pleading. “This isn’t a fight we can win. We can’t go back in time to change it.”

I took a step back, her words penetrating through the storm raging inside me. Moving away from my father, I returned to the spot we’d been sitting earlier, sinking to the floor with my legs crossed. Star sat beside me, her back turned to my father, shielding me from his presence. She gently tapped my forehead with one of her talons, a light touch that always seemed to ground me.

“Come talk to me up here,” she requested, her voice soft but insistent.

I nodded and closed my eyes, slipping into the mental space where she waited. Star was seated at a small table, her form back in her human appearance. I joined her, pulling out the chair across from her. As soon as I sat down, a familiar voice broke through the silence.

“With this evening’s entertainment, I present… Blackjack! I’ll be your dealer, of course.” Scuzball’s voice rang out cheerfully, and he appeared at the end of the table with a flourish. A deck of cards materialized in his paw as he began to shuffle them.

“How are you here?” I asked, more curious than concerned.

“How many times do we have to go over this, Cayro? I’m part of you,” Scuzball said, sounding almost indignant, before dealing out the cards.

I let out a huff and checked my face-down card—two of hearts. My face-up card? The eight of clubs. Tapping my knuckles on the table, I gestured for Scuzball to deal me another card. The jack of diamonds slid across the table to me. With a nod, I waved my hand, signaling I was done. I looked over at Star, who only had two cards in front of her. With a smile, she flipped over her face-down card—ace of spades. Her face-up card? The king of hearts.

“Blackjack!” she announced triumphantly.

I shot her an incredulous look, then turned to Scuzball. He, too, had three cards. His ace of hearts and seven of clubs sat face up. Flipping over his last card, he revealed the nine of spades, bringing his total to seventeen. Well, at least I didn’t completely lose.

We continued to play cards in our mental space for what felt like hours, a quiet reprieve from the storm outside. It was strange how comfortable this space had become. For once, I wasn’t consumed by anger. Here, with Star and even Scuzball, I could breathe. I could think.

Suddenly, the truck slowed, and the sound of brakes hissing brought me back to reality. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the pitch-black darkness of the trailer. My night vision slowly kicked in, but even then, I could barely make out the shapes of the motorcycles strapped down nearby. Glancing over to where my father had been sitting, I noticed the spot was now empty.

A metallic clanging echoed from the rear of the trailer, followed by the slow creak of the back ramp lowering. Dim light streamed through the widening gap, and I squinted, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The night air was cool and refreshing after the stuffy darkness inside the trailer. As the ramp hit the ground with a soft thud, a man walked up it.

I straightened, the tension flooding back into my body.

My grandfather’s flashlight beam swept across the trailer as he stepped inside, calling for us. The light fell on me and Star, and we waved him over. He knelt beside us, his face softened by the glow of the beam.

“How was the ride?” he asked softly.

I gave a gruff reply, “It could have been better. The company was… unpleasant.”

He sighed knowingly. “So, you and your father talked?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” I huffed, frustration leaking into my voice.

“Didn’t go well, then?” he asked, glancing between Star and me.

“Not really,” Star said quietly, stretching as she stood up. I watched, eyebrows shooting up as she practically bent in half. Damn, she was flexible.

I shook my head and glanced around the trailer, realizing that the deranged lunatic—my father—was nowhere to be seen. “Where did he go?” I asked, confused.

Star shrugged, her stretching complete, while my grandfather answered, “Oh, he’s outside talking to the driver.”

I stared at him. “How? We never stopped.”

Grandpa just shrugged as he helped me to my feet. Stretching myself, I felt the familiar stretch of muscles and was startled by how flexible my body felt. Okay… maybe I'm just as flexible as Star. I stood back up, catching her eye as she gave me a hungry look, her draconian eyes glinting with excitement.

“Are you going to shift back?” I asked, teasing.

“When I feel like it,” she replied, her voice playful. “Are you going to shift back?”

I blinked, taken aback. I hadn’t even realized I was still partially shifted. My tongue traced over my still-elongated canines. With a playful shrug, I walked over and took her hand. “When I feel like it,” I echoed with a grin.

She giggled, the sound like chiming bells, and my heart melted a little. She was absolutely adorable.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked my grandfather.

“Now that we’re safely away from the cities, you two are going to fly the skycar to Pigeon Forge. Mrs. Bracton, Lyra, and I will ride in a nice, comfy SUV,” he explained.

Star huffed, “The skycar is very comfortable.”

“If you say so,” Grandpa replied with a smirk.

I glanced back at the motorcycles strapped down in the trailer. “What about the bikes?” I asked.

“No worries. The truck will be following us. The driver is a member of the North American Wolf Council. This rig’s used for transporting gear when needed,” Grandpa said with a reassuring smile.

Star chimed in with a smirk, “You get to ride with Captain Bracton on the way back?”

“Oh hell no. He’s riding in the rig. Mrs. Bracton’s got it in her head to strangle her son, so it's best he stays far away from us,” Grandpa replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed like everyone was lining up to put my father back in the ground where he belonged. Looking my grandfather in the eye, I felt a rush of emotions well up in me. Without a second thought, I hugged him tightly.

“Grandpa,” I whispered, “that man isn’t my father. You are.”

He froze for a moment before squeezing me back. When he pulled away, I noticed the glint of unshed tears in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“Come on, you two, let’s get ready to head out,” he directed.

Star and I walked down the ramp of the truck, stepping into the cool night air. We had stopped at an old truck stop that wasn’t too busy, thankfully. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed to use the bathroom. We made our way over to the skycar first, tossing my helmet in the back before Star grabbed my hand, and we headed for the truck stop entrance.

I held the door open for her, following her inside. We wove through the aisles until we found the restrooms. After taking care of business, I felt a lot better and waited for Star to come out. When she did, we started browsing the shelves, grabbing snacks and drinks like we were planning a road trip. That’s when it hit me—we couldn’t use my debit card.

I froze for a moment, realization dawning. Star, catching on, gave me a knowing look.

“We can’t pay with cards, can we?” she said.

“Nope. Too risky,” I muttered.

We stood there, holding all our loot, trying to figure out how we were going to pay.

“Cayro, just hover your hand over the card reader,” Scuzball chimed over my coms link.

“What?” I asked, thrown off by the sudden advice.

“I managed to get your funds accessed from the Autumn. You have a near field communications implant in your left hand. Just hover it over the card reader.” He explained, sounding pleased with himself.

“Oh… okay,” I replied, more out of surprise than understanding.

Walking over to the counter with our loot, we placed everything down, waiting for the cashier to ring up the items. Star stayed close beside me, her eyes darting around the store. As the cashier scanned each item, she struck up a conversation.

“Did you hear about the crazy motorcycle chase near Chesapeake Bay earlier today?” She asked in an overly cheerful voice.

My stomach dropped. Star went stiff beside me, but I forced myself to play it cool.

“Nope, we’ve been traveling,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was pounding like a jackhammer in my chest.

“Oh, it was bad. Several people died from gunshot wounds, and a Virginia State Trooper was seriously injured. It made national news.” She was entirely too casual about it, like she was talking about the weather.

“That’s... awful,” I said, my mouth dry, shooting a wide-eyed glance at Star. I could feel the tension rolling off her, but she didn’t show it. We both knew this was bad. Very bad.

“Yeah, apparently it was a family of drug dealers, and a deal went bad. Their house got blown up, and the chase ended up barreling through Hampton and onto the interstate. The motorcycle riders just vanished, though. No sign of them anywhere.” She continued, oblivious to the fact she was talking to the "vanished" riders.

I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my face neutral. "Crazy world," I muttered, my hands suddenly feeling clammy.

“That’ll be forty-six dollars and sixty-eight cents,” she said with a smile, glancing up at us.

I held my breath as I hovered my left hand over the card reader. The machine beeped, flashing “Approved.”

“Oh my God! It’s you!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. My entire body tensed. I felt Star grip my hand tightly, probably thinking the same thing I was. Crap, we’ve been made.

But then the cashier's excitement turned in a different direction. “You’re Cayro Bracton! And you’re Star Zaraki! You two are viral right now!”

I nearly choked on my own breath. Not from the chase. She was talking about the damn performance video Zak leaked. Star visibly relaxed beside me, but I could still feel her tension through the bond.

“That was some performance you guys put on. My boyfriend is a huge fan of Team SAF. Was that kiss at the end real?” she asked, her voice giddy with excitement.

Before I could even think of how to respond, Star stepped in, her voice calm and smooth. “Yes, it was. Cayro’s my husband.”

Wait—what?! I whipped my head to look at her, stunned. Star simply smiled sweetly at the cashier like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

The cashier gasped, clasping her hands together. “Wait, you two are married? That’s sooo romantic!”

Star nodded, still smiling. “Yep, that was our wedding night celebration.” She flashed one of her infamous grins, and I realized she was playing along, though I wasn’t sure to what end.

I quickly closed my mouth before anyone noticed my jaw had hit the floor. "Uh, yeah. Definitely a night to remember." I forced a laugh, feeling my brain short-circuit. What the hell was she up to?

“Wow, congratulations! My boyfriend is going to be so jealous. Can I get your autograph and maybe a quick picture with the two of you?” she asked, looking at us like we were celebrities.

I glanced at Star again, unsure how to handle this. But she just grinned like she had it all under control. “Sure,” she said, grabbing a pen off the counter.

Great. I bit my tongue and signed the back of the business card the cashier handed over, right under Star’s signature. The cashier quickly came around the counter to snap a photo with her phone. Star wrapped an arm around me, and I put on the best smile I could muster for the photo, even though internally, I was screaming.

"Thank you so much!" the cashier squealed. “My boyfriend wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t have proof.”

“You’re welcome,” Star said sweetly, tugging me toward the exit. “But we really need to get going. Long ride ahead of us.” She waved as we finally made our escape.

Walking alongside her, heading back to where the others were waiting, I pinged Scuzball for advice.

“How can I help you, Cayro?” His voice came through with that maddeningly cool tone.

“Should we be worried about that photo?” I asked, a slight edge of concern creeping into my voice.

“I doubt it. Right now, publicity is going to be your best friend, especially after today’s events,” he answered, his confidence making me feel a little better.

“Alright,” I muttered. Well, at least that wasn’t going to explode in our faces—hopefully.

We made it back to the rest of the group and stashed our bounty in the skycar. I turned to face Star, eyeing her suspiciously.

“What did I do to make you decide to tell her we were married?” I asked, suspicion dripping from my words.

She crossed her arms and gave me a look that could burn through steel. “Are we not? Did we not share vows together? Do we not share a soul-binding connection? Do we not love each other?” she fired off, her questions rapid and leaving me flustered.

“Uh… uh… uh… yes,” I stammered, caught completely off-guard.

“Isn’t that what marriage is?” she demanded, the edge in her voice cutting straight through me.

“Yes… I guess you're right,” I admitted, still reeling from her verbal barrage.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Slowly, I turned around and saw my grandfather, my grandmother, and Lyra standing a few feet behind us. My grandfather had his arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in that you’ve-got-some-explaining-to-do way. My mouth went dry. Oh, great. They heard everything.

“The two of you are married and didn’t tell us?” my grandfather asked, his voice stern, his eyes piercing.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out how to answer without digging my own grave. “In accordance with werewolf tradition, yes…” I replied meekly, realizing just how much trouble we were in.

“And you didn’t bother to invite us? Or, I don’t know… tell us?” my grandmother growled, her voice seething with barely-contained anger.

“You didn’t know? They were married before they arrived at SkyTeam Aerospace Foundation,” Lyra chimed in helpfully, or at least she thought she was being helpful.

“They were?” my grandfather said, mock surprise dripping from every syllable.

“Yeah,” Lyra answered matter-of-factly.

“Lyra… you’re not helping,” I growled in a whisper, shooting her a glare. Just as quickly, I felt Star elbow me in the side.

“Be nice. She’s the one who’s going to help explain our situation,” Star grumbled under her breath, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“Oh, please do explain,” my grandmother said, her voice like a whip. She was not going to let this slide easily.

“When werewolves choose to have a mate bond, the magic bonds them together, and by our traditions, the pairing is considered married,” Lyra explained, standing firm in her knowledge.

I facepalmed, groaning loudly. Really, Lyra? Now wasn't the time for the full supernatural lesson. Star sighed next to me, clearly sharing my frustration.

“Star and I have a royal mate bond, both draconian and werewolf,” I added, trying to clarify. “We didn’t choose to bond. It was automatic.”

“Oh, that’s right. Both Alpha and Luna are royal blood. Their bonds are different. The stars chose them to be together. They have a special bond that only royals get,” Lyra chimed in again, and I was pretty sure I saw my grandmother’s eyes narrow even further.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. We didn’t have time for this. We really didn’t. “Star and I aren’t married in the human way. But in the… supernatural way, we are,” I tried to explain, hoping that would settle things for now.

“So, by human customs, you’re not married, but by supernatural customs, you are?” my grandmother asked, her voice still tense.

“Yes,” Star answered calmly.

“And when exactly were you planning on telling us?” my grandfather asked, his tone far more cutting than I liked.

“Originally, we weren’t going to because we didn’t want to burden you with our supernatural side,” Star answered, a little sheepish now. “We were going to approach you about the idea of getting married in the human way, so you could be there for it.”

“Hmm, we’ll discuss this further once we reach Pigeon Forge. This conversation is not over, you two,” my grandfather said sternly, his gaze shifting between the both of us.

I nodded, feeling like a kid who’d just been grounded, while Star offered each of my grandparents a hug, which I followed suit on. Even Lyra got a hug before we both climbed into the skycar. Once the others were situated in the waiting SUV, the skycar hummed to life, lifting off the ground. I turned to look at Star, who had a smug, devious grin plastered across her face.

“Don’t you dare blame me,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “You’re the one who opened your big mouth… Honey.”