PROJECT: CAYRO

Cayro Bracton

October 22, 2025

14:27 EST

Lyconotu Mansion

Pidgeon Forge, TN

The living room hummed with the faint drone of the TV, but I wasn’t really listening. My grandmother, Star, and Aura were deep in conversation about the wedding. As soon as Star had said “yes,” my grandmother launched into full-on wedding planning mode, dragging Aura and Star into a whirlwind of “wedding stuff.” For the last two days, all I’ve heard is wedding this, wedding that.

Star looked lost—completely out of her depth. She had no idea what any of this meant. The first night in the mansion, she walked into our bedroom, her face a mixture of confusion and sheer overload, like someone had hit her with a truckload of expectations. I could feel her tension growing through our bond ever since, the pressure mounting with every suggestion my grandmother and Aura threw at her.

The coffee table in front of me was now buried under a mountain of wedding magazines. Aura had raided an entire bookstore’s worth. Meanwhile, Lyra had vanished as soon as the wedding talk began to escalate, like she could sense the impending doom. I didn’t blame her. I thought I knew chaos, but this? This was on a whole new level.

As I stood up to search for my grandfather, who had wisely disappeared, something snapped. A dark pulse through the bond between Star and me froze me in my tracks. I slowly turned, and just as I locked eyes on Star, I heard the trigger.

“What about pink? Pink would look amazing on you,” my grandmother suggested, completely oblivious to the time bomb she had just detonated.

Star’s expression shifted from overwhelmed to stone-cold in an instant. And then she exploded—like a rabid squirrel tearing through a paper mill. She shifted into her draconian form, snatched up several magazines, and the next thing I knew, confetti filled the air as she stormed out, leaving the room and everyone in it wide-eyed.

A vicious snarl echoed down the hall, followed by the violent slam of the front door. Lyra appeared, her expression matching the confusion on everyone else's face.

“Alpha? What’s got Luna’s tail in a twist?” she asked, baffled.

“Pink…” I muttered, heading for the door.

“Pink?” Lyra repeated, her confusion deepening.

“Star hates pink,” I threw over my shoulder as I pushed past her.

Before I could make it out, my grandmother stopped me. “What do we do now?” she asked, looking genuinely lost for the first time since this wedding madness began.

I gave her a tight smile. “Why don’t you and Aura ask Scuzball to contact the Autumn? Talk to Andrew and Ms. Tiffany. They raised Star; they’ll know how to handle this better than we do.”

Without waiting for an answer, I left the room, determined to catch up with Star before she torched the entire property. Lyra trailed behind me, glancing over her shoulder at the women still standing, confused and speechless.

As soon as we stepped outside, I turned to Lyra. “So, is there a reason you’re avoiding all this wedding talk?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Um… I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, looking away, her voice tight with something I hadn’t seen before—fear.

“Oh, why not?” I pressed, not expecting her to snap.

“Because it involves my father…” she growled, her eyes flashing silver for just a moment.

I instinctively took a step back, surprised by the sudden shift. She never snapped at me, or at Star for that matter.

“Father issues too?” I said, trying to lighten the mood, though the weight in my chest said otherwise.

“You could say that,” she muttered, her voice heavy with bitterness.

“Well, I get it. My father’s supposed to be dead, and yet, here he is, alive and screwing with my life.” I tried to balance my tone between humor and frustration, but it barely masked the underlying truth.

“I wish my father were dead,” she said darkly. “It’d save me a lot of pain and headache.”

Her usual playfulness was gone, replaced by something sharper, more raw. It was jarring, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, cautiously.

“No, I don’t,” she snapped, her voice low and rough.

I raised my hands, backing off. “Alright, alright, didn’t mean to ruffle your fur, Lyra.”

She sighed, frustration bleeding into her tone. “I’m sorry, Alpha. It’s just… a sensitive subject. I don’t want to talk about my father or why I hate weddings. And being here, in Pidgeon Forge… it has my teeth on edge.” She trailed off, her voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place.

I glanced over, curious. “What’s wrong with Pidgeon Forge?”

Her gaze hardened. “My father and his pack live here,” she said, flat and emotionless, but the weight behind her words made my stomach twist.

We fell into silence, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts as we followed Star’s scent. When we finally found her, she was sitting in a clearing with Zak. She was mid-rant, unloading all the bottled-up frustration about the wedding—the constant barrage of questions, the weight of expectations, and the overwhelming pressure to get everything right.

Zak was sitting there, quiet, just letting her vent.

Lyra and I stayed back, listening as Star grappled with the conflicting traditions Aura and my grandmother had thrown at her. She didn’t know which way to turn.

When Star paused for breath, Lyra gave my arm a gentle tug, leading me into the clearing. She nudged me to sit with Zak while she settled next to Star on the ground. I was a little surprised when Star immediately leaned into Lyra’s shoulder, sighing in relief as if she’d finally found a moment of peace.

“Is she okay?” I whispered to Zak.

“She’s just overwhelmed,” Zak replied softly. “I was out here walking when she came storming by.”

I nodded, watching Star for a moment. “Did you give her any advice?”

“Honestly, no. I just listened. It’s usually the best thing to do when someone’s upset—let them vent. If they ask for advice, give it, but don’t force it,” Zak said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Huh. That was actually pretty good advice. I’d need to remember that for next time.

“So, do you have any advice now?” I asked, curious.

Zak shifted, adjusting his position. “I have some suggestions. But that’s all they are—suggestions, not advice.”

“What do you suggest?” Lyra chimed in, her voice steady as she rubbed Star’s back.

“Well,” Zak began, “as much as the wedding is about the bride and groom, it’s also about the families. This isn’t just a union between two people—it’s a union between two, maybe three families. You’ve got the Bractons, the Lyconotus, and of course, Dr. Zaraki and Star. Each family has its own traditions, and you’ll need to find a balance between them.”

He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. “But here’s the thing: you two aren’t ordinary. You’re a one-of-a-kind set of beings. So why not have a one-of-a-kind wedding? Create your own tradition, something unique to who you are.”

I sat there, letting his words settle over me. It made sense, in a strange way. I glanced at Star and saw she was considering it, too, her brow furrowed in thought.

Then Lyra cleared her throat, drawing all our attention. “What if I took the lead in planning the ceremony?” she suggested, her voice firm.

I blinked, surprised. Lyra had been avoiding anything wedding-related like the plague. What had changed?

She must have seen the shock on my face because she narrowed her eyes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the wedding,” I said, still trying to wrap my head around her sudden shift.

She closed her eyes for a moment before locking gazes with both Star and me. “In most cases, I don’t. But I’m your Beta. My job is to help my Alpha and Luna when they need it. And right now, the two of you need it.”

“Hmm,” Zak mused, his brow furrowing in thought.

“I would really appreciate the help, Lyra,” Star said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lyra offered Star a comforting hug before standing and heading back toward the mansion. I watched her go, still trying to make sense of the sudden shift. Something wasn’t adding up. “That was… weird,” I said, glancing at Star and then back to Zak. “She was dead set on avoiding the wedding planning.”

Zak broke the silence, his tone low and deliberate. “You two do know she’s an alpha, right?”

“What do you mean she’s an alpha?” Star asked, wide-eyed with surprise.

“Lyra’s an alpha,” Zak repeated, nodding. “She’s been hiding it from both of you—doing a damn good job at it too. If I hadn’t been paying close attention, I wouldn’t have caught on.”

I frowned, confused. “Why would she hide that? It doesn’t make sense.”

Zak shrugged. “I can’t say for sure, but I’d bet it has to do with her father—and the fear of losing you two.”

Star looked even more bewildered. “Why would she be afraid of losing us?”

Zak’s gaze darkened. “Most packs won’t take on a rogue alpha, Star. Lyra ran away from Pidgeon Forge a few months ago. She’s been trying to find a pack willing to accept her, but no one will touch her because they know who her father is. They don’t want to upset Alpha Acosta. The only reason she’s with you now is that my father allowed her into the SkyTeam Pack. And no one on the council would dare cross the SkyTeam Pack—especially knowing who the true alpha is.”

The pieces started clicking together in my mind, but I still had one burning question. “So, why join us then?” I asked.

Zak’s eyes flickered with understanding. “Because you summoned her through the Call of the Hunt. She answered it. Why she accepted... that’s something only the three of you can figure out.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Swallowing hard, I nodded, unsure how to respond. He was right. I had no idea how to lead, no idea what being an alpha truly meant. “Zak… I don’t even know how to be an alpha. Let alone lead a pack.”

Zak chuckled softly, standing and stretching. “Don’t sweat it, man. Aura and I will help you two through it. Tomorrow, we’ve got a meeting with Alpha Malachi. We’ll talk about the trip to Seoul and your crash course in werewolf boot camp.”

“Boot camp?” Star and I blurted in unison, our voices laced with equal parts disbelief and horror.

Zak gave us a look that bordered on exasperation. “Well, duh. The two of you need training—serious training. How else do you expect to survive as werewolves?”

I crossed my arms, frustration creeping into my tone. “Why the hell do we need to go through boot camp of all things?”

Zak’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to something cold, serious. “Cayro… there’s a war coming. And you two? You’re right in the middle of it. Things are moving behind the scenes, things you can’t even begin to understand yet.”

His gaze locked with mine, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize the guy standing in front of me. The friend I grew up with was gone, replaced by someone else—someone heavier, burdened with far more knowledge than I was ready to deal with. It was the King of Wolves staring back at me, not Zak.

“While you’ve been gallivanting with Team SAF and SkyTeam,” he continued, his tone flat, “things here have been falling apart. I’m almost certain the same people who are after you are also working to destabilize the supernatural world.”

His words slammed into me, leaving me reeling. I looked over at Star, meeting her gaze. Zak had just dropped a truth bomb that left both of us shaken. This was no longer just about survival. We were part of something much bigger, something far more dangerous than we’d realized.

Zak squeezed my shoulder, a gesture meant to ground me, before turning and disappearing into the trees. Star and I stood there in silence, watching him vanish.

“This isn’t just a fight for survival anymore,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. “We have to be ready.”

I took a deep breath, letting the gravity of Zak’s words sink in. He was right. I had no training, no experience. Out of the three of us, I was the weak link. If things went sideways, I was the one who would drag us down. That realization twisted like a knife in my gut.

“Cayro?” Star’s voice was soft as she sat down beside me.

“Yeah?” I glanced up, pulling myself out of my spiraling thoughts.

“Your aura… it shifted,” she said, her tone laced with concern. “It’s like you’re sinking back into one of your moments.” She didn’t have to say it outright—I knew she was worried about another PTSD episode.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I was just thinking about what Zak said. He’s right… I’m the weak link in this group.”

Her hand slipped into mine, her grip warm and reassuring. “Babe, you’re not weak. You just proved that to the NAWC two days ago.”

I shook my head, the frustration boiling just beneath the surface. “That’s not it. I’m strong—physically, sure. But I don’t have the training you and Lyra have. No military experience, no werewolf tactics. I can brute force my way through a one-on-one fight, but when it comes to strategy, to actual leadership? I have no idea what I’m doing. The battle at SkyTeam? That was all instinct. I was guessing, Star. Guessing.”

“I know, but you still managed. You did what you needed to do to survive.” Her voice was soft, encouraging, but it couldn’t quite cut through the weight pressing down on me.

“That’ll only get me so far—us so far.” I looked into her eyes, seeing the reflection of my own doubts. “I need to catch up to you and Lyra. We have to be stronger, smarter. If what Zak says is true, and we’re in the middle of something bigger than we know, we can’t afford to fail.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips gently against mine. It was soft, grounding me for a moment, pulling me out of my head. “Thank you for coming to find me,” she whispered after breaking the kiss. “I was just so overwhelmed by everything.”

“I could tell,” I chuckled, though the sound was hollow. “Your aura’s been spiking all over the place through our bond these past couple of days.”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—ugh—I have no idea what I’m doing with this wedding. The planning is driving me batshit insane. And your grandmother? She keeps insisting on pink…” Her frustration was thick enough to cut, her voice tight with irritation.

I smiled, shaking my head. “What colors would you want?”

“Purple,” she said after a moment’s thought. “With gray. Those are my favorite colors.”

Standing up, I gently tugged her arm, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get back to the house. Maybe everyone’s calmed down after your little… explosion.”

The disgust that crossed her face was almost comical, and I had to stifle a laugh. “If I never hear the word ‘wedding’ again, it’ll be too soon,” she muttered as we walked back together.

The mansion greeted us with the sound of raised voices coming from the kitchen—great. This should be fun. Stepping into the chaos, we found my grandmother, Aura, and Lyra huddled around the table, each shouting over the other about who was going to take charge of the wedding planning. It was like watching a slow-motion train wreck, and judging by Zak’s stance, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, he wasn’t about to intervene. My grandfather, meanwhile, was already raiding the fridge, no doubt searching for a beer to escape the madness.

Star reluctantly joined the fray, her frustration adding fuel to the slow-burning explosion. I closed my eyes, trying to tune out the noise, but it was impossible. The whole scene grated on my nerves.

My grandfather caught my eye, a look of defeat and exhaustion etched into his features. He grabbed a beer and shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving me to deal with the wreckage. I shot Zak a desperate look, hoping for backup.

Zak just smirked, shaking his head as he stepped away from the counter. “This is all you, bro. I’m staying out of this.”

I started to protest. “But—”

“This might be your grandparents’ house, but you’re the alpha. So, act like one,” he said bluntly, before turning and disappearing after my grandfather.

I growled under my breath, squaring my shoulders as I turned back to the chaos. Star’s aura was flaring, her rage simmering just below the surface. If I didn’t step in, I had no doubt my mate would end up tearing into my grandmother and Aura over this damn wedding.

Before it could escalate, I let loose a sharp, ear-splitting whistle that echoed through the entire house. “Enough!”

The room fell silent. My grandmother shot me a look that could have withered flowers—the look, the one only a grandmother could give you when you’d seriously crossed the line. I stood firm, crossing my arms, letting her disapproval wash over me. When she opened her mouth to speak, I let my eyes shift to their feral state, making it clear I wasn’t backing down.

She snapped her mouth shut, crossing her arms in response, her expression hardening with disappointment. I ignored it.

“The four of you are being utterly ridiculous,” I snapped, my patience gone. “As of now: Lyra, you’re in charge of coordination and planning. Grandma, you’re handling food, the cake, and drinks. Aura, you and Zak have the manpower, so logistics and supply are yours. The colors are amethyst purple, emerald green, and dark gray.” I turned to Star.

“What’s your favorite cake?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, and took a moment to think. “Red velvet with real cream cheese icing.”

“Perfect. Grandma, that’s the cake. Now, all of you handle this like adults—not a bunch of pissed-off children. Star and I have way too much on our plates to waste time fighting over a wedding ceremony. Make it special, but don’t turn it into a battlefield.” I didn’t wait for any responses before I stormed out of the kitchen, needing to get away from the madness.

As I walked into the living room, I found my grandfather nursing his beer, watching me with raised eyebrows. I flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated huff.

He looked over, poking a finger into his ear, flexing his jaw. “Well, that’s one way to handle it… Not sure I’ll hear the same again after that whistle, though.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “And how would you have handled it?”

He shrugged, his tone cool and detached. “If there’s one thing your grandmother’s stubborn about, it’s weddings. Especially considering your father pretty much eloped with your mother.”

I couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped. “Of course that asshole eloped.”

Grandpa nodded, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s why your grandmother and I were disappointed at first. We thought you two had eloped just like he did. But now that we know the truth, well, she wants to be part of this. Wants to experience it with the two of you.”

His words gave me pause. It was the first time it all clicked—the reason behind my grandmother’s obsession with the wedding. It wasn’t just about the planning; it was about making this moment count, making it mean something. She wanted to be involved, to share in something special with us.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I was going to have to apologize to her, wasn’t I? I didn’t think the whole wedding thing was a big deal. Neither did Star. We just wanted everyone to be happy, but right now, it felt like the chaos in our lives was never-ending. What we wanted—what we needed—was peace, something that was becoming more and more elusive.

Honestly, the idea of going back to the shop, working on a bike? That sounded like heaven compared to this. The smell of oil, the hum of machinery—that was something I understood. Something I could control.

That thought brought up something I hadn’t considered yet. “What’s the plan with the dealership and the shop?” I asked, glancing over at my grandfather.

He set his beer down, exhaling deeply. “Rick and the guys are taking over for now. After everything that happened in Hampton… being called a drug dealer put a big target on your grandmother and me. Chief Copeland and Zak are helping with the transition, making sure the shop’s transferred to Rick.”

His voice was steady, but there was a heaviness to it. I could see how much it weighed on him. He’d built that dealership from the ground up, and now? His life’s work was being taken from him, swallowed by the chaos that surrounded us all.

“Zak and the NAWC are helping Rick finance the purchase,” he continued. “It’ll be a decent chunk of money when it’s all done.”

“We could always start another shop,” I suggested quietly. “Once everything calms down.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared off into the distance, his face unreadable. Seeing him like this, broken and defeated, crushed me. Everything we’d known—everything I thought was solid—was crumbling. This wasn’t just upheaval for me anymore. It was destroying all of us. Star, my grandparents, Lyra, Team SAF—everyone connected to this godforsaken project my father created.

“Cayro,” my grandfather said, breaking the heavy silence between us. “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

I glanced up, surprised by the rawness in his voice. The man I’d always seen as a pillar of strength—unshakable, solid—was fighting back tears. I moved closer, instinctively wanting to be near him, to offer comfort.

“What’s that, Grandpa?” I asked, ready to do whatever I could to ease the weight on his shoulders.

He swallowed hard before speaking, his voice dropping to a low, chilling whisper that sent a shiver up my spine. “I want you to take on Star’s surname when the two of you get married.”

I blinked, staring at him in confusion. “Uh… why?”

He closed his eyes, and the tears he’d been holding back finally broke free. “I don’t want you to live with your father’s past hanging over you any longer. It’s time to step out of that man’s shadow.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. “But… Dr. Zaraki was just as involved in the project. He helped create this mess too.”

“I know,” my grandfather said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “But he did it for different reasons. Ever since then, he’s been trying to make up for his mistakes. He warned us—warned all of us—that your father had lost his way. We didn’t listen. And after your father supposedly died, Dr. Zaraki stayed in touch with us. Every Christmas, he’d offer to help, to support us in any way he could. We never took him up on it. But the fact is, he’s been trying to mend what was broken.”

I stared at my grandfather, taken aback. Every piece of information I uncovered about Star’s father made him seem less like a monster and more like a man—a man who, despite everything, had tried to make amends. Draconian or not, he had more humanity in him than my father ever would.

Meeting my grandfather’s gaze, I gave him a firm nod. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the Zaraki name.”

Relief washed over his face as he reached up and gently ruffled my hair before pulling me into a hug. I hugged him back, leaning into the familiar warmth, the comfort of a moment that felt... almost normal.

And then it all shattered.

A sharp cracking sound ripped through the air, followed by the unmistakable scent of ozone. I shot upright as a thin line of purple—Star’s magic—split the air from floor to ceiling, ten feet tall and shimmering with dangerous energy. The magic crackled, flickering like lightning as the line widened into a cavernous, amethyst-hued tear in reality itself.

My grandfather tensed beside me, instinctively reaching for the sidearm that wasn’t there. But by the time he realized it, it was already too late.

The creature stepped out of the rift, towering and monstrous. Its body was covered in iridescent black scales, glistening in the dim light. Long, swept-back horns crowned its head, and its blazing purple eyes locked onto me with terrifying intensity. A mane of silver-white hair cascaded down its back, framing the lean, predatory form. It was pure rage made flesh.

Its reptilian lips pulled back, revealing razor-sharp teeth. It lifted one massive hand, a long, deadly talon extending toward me. The sound of its arrival had already drawn everyone from the kitchen, their footsteps pounding as they rushed to see the cause of the commotion. But my focus was locked on the creature’s burning gaze.

“Where is that traitorous bastard…” The words rumbled from its throat, deep and guttural, each syllable vibrating with menace.

I stood there, frozen, my brain refusing to keep up with what my eyes were seeing. The only thing I could manage was a stammered, “Uh… uh…”

The creature’s eyes narrowed, its voice a snarl. “Your traitorous, good-for-nothing father, Cayro. Where. Is. He.”

My mouth finally found some semblance of function, and the only word that escaped was the name that hung in the air like a death sentence.

“Dr. Zaraki?”