The next day,

The hover-cruiser glided into the Citadel's cavernous hangar, settling with a faint hiss that echoed briefly before the vast bay swallowed the sound.

Landing lights flickered off, bathing the pad in the cool, silvery glow of the fortress's ambient lighting

"We are here," Zaeryn muttered, as the cruiser's side door slid open with a soft pneumatic whine.

He hopped onto the polished obsidian floor, his boots echoing in the stillness, followed by his two Warlady escorts, Mireille and Arya, their movements silent and precise.

Three figures awaited near the hangar's main thoroughfare, their silhouettes stark against the gleaming backdrop. High Commander Lysara stood at the center, her silver braids coiled with military precision, her posture as unyielding as the Citadel itself.

To her left, Chief Scientist Daphne Virellith gave off an intensity, her violet eyes sparkled like embers.

To Lysara's right, another member of the Sector 7 Citadel council, Annalise, glowed with a quiet warmth. Her hazel eyes caught the light as she offered Zaeryn a soft, genuine smile.

Unlike Daphne's predatory intensity or Lysara's cold command, her smile was... different.

When she smiled at him, Zaeryn felt like she had the most delicate smile he had ever seen.His gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. She was really attractive.

"High Commander," Mireille said, halting a respectful distance away and dipping her chin in a curt nod.

Lysara's gaze swept over the agents, before settling on princess Athea's son. "Agents, you're dismissed for now. Return when he requires escort."

Mireille gave a formal curtsy, but as she straightened, her eyes met Zaeryn's. For a fleeting moment, her stoic mask slipped and she almost smiled at him…. almost.

"Good luck,Zaeryn." she murmured, barely audible.

Zaeryn blinked, caught off guard by the rare flicker of warmth in her voice. Usually she would just leave. "Thanks," he replied, nodding.

Arya stepped forward, her curtsy less rigid, her gaze lingering on Zaeryn with a warmth that showed her thoughts. She was attracted to him. "We'll be on standby," she said, her voice honeyed, a smile tugging at her lips.

Daphne's sharp eyes caught the exchange. The look on Arya's face. A faint huff escaped her. "Another victim," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Lysara and Annalise to hear.

Lysara ignored the comment, her expression unchanging. Annalise stifled a giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced from Daphne to Zaeryn.

"Another victim? Are you saying he's a predator?" Annalise teased lightly, her tone playful but kind.

By now, Annalise knew nearly as much about Zaeryn as Daphne did. She had been quietly asking questions—mostly through Daphne, and occasionally through the High Commander. It was safe to say she'd taken a real interest in him. Daphne had happily indulged her curiosity with a few stories, while Lysara, not being the gossiping kind, had offered little.

Zaeryn grinned, leaning into the banter. "Me? A predator? I'm wounded, Annalise."

Daphne's lips twitched, but her violet gaze locked onto him, sharp and possessive. "If the boot fits," she murmured, her eyes flicking to his lips for a heartbeat, a silent reminder of the kiss she hadn't claimed in days. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension.

"Enough," Lysara cut in, her voice slicing through the moment like a blade. "I had a meeting with your mother. I'm sure Ysmeine has told you. A decision has been made regarding your status." She gestured for him to follow, her boots clicking sharply against the floor as she led the way.

Zaeryn fell into step beside her, flanked by Daphne and Annalise as they made their way out of the hangar,"A decision?" he asked, feigning nonchalance. "Am I finally being promoted from 'fascinating anomaly' to 'potentially useful specimen'?"

"Something like that," Lysara replied, not missing a beat. "You're now officially enrolled in the Vitae Academy."

A slow, genuine grin spread across his face. He'd known this was coming—Ysmeine had told him—but hearing Lysara's words made it real. This was it. The key.

"The Vitae Academy, huh?" Zaeryn resumed his stride with a new swagger. "A man in the all-female Vitae Academy? Sounds like you're finally putting my talents to good use."

"Oh, your talents…" Daphne leaned in, her lips close enough that her breath tickled his ear. "I know them well—and soon, so will all those women at the academy. Just… try not to bite off more than you can chew." Her voice was a sensual whisper, carefully pitched so the High Commander wouldn't catch a word.

Zaeryn was about to answer Daphne, but he was interrupted.

"It's a specialized curriculum," Annalise said, her voice gentle as she kept pace on his right.

Lysara glanced back. "Princess Athea was clear: you're to be trained, not paraded. And she wants you to dedicate yourself to mastering your Vitae."

Zaeryn's good mood soured instantly. "And why would I listen to her?" he said, his tone sharp. "I'm mastering my Vitae because I want to, not because some ghost who's never even spoken to me wants to be proud."

Annalise was taken aback by Zaeryn's response, surprised at how openly he showed his lack of admiration for the Princess. She had assumed the opposite. Her hazel eyes softened with concern as they searched his face.

"Zaeryn, that's… you shouldn't speak of the Princess that way," she whispered, her voice low and careful. "She's the one who…"

High Commander Lysara said, "You may not know her, but she knows you. She's been

watching over you, ensuring your safety. She was also the one who orchestrated your training."

Zaeryn didn't say anything, but that didn't mean he agreed with the high commander.

"He's right," Daphne cut in, her voice a possessive purr as she slid just a little closer to Zaeryn as they walked. "He shouldn't be trying to please anyone but himself. His power is his own."

They turned into a gleaming corridor, its walls shimmering with embedded tech. Zaeryn raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was headed straight to the Academy this morning. What's with the detour?"

"You're already at the Academy—it's part of the Citadel. But you can't show up to an elite Warlady facility in civilian gear. We had Mireille and Arya bring you here to get fitted for a uniform." Annalise explained.

"A uniform, huh?" Zaeryn shot a sidelong glance at Daphne, on his left. "You sure this isn't just an excuse to get me out of my clothes again, Chief Scientist?"

Daphne's head snapped toward him, a vivid crimson flush rising on her cheeks that contradicted her composed facade. "And why would I need to see you?" she retorted,

Zaeryn's grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe you missed me?"

Before Daphne could answer, Lysara stopped at a junction. "Zaeryn, you'll go with Dr. Virellith. She will oversee your fitting. After that, meet Annalise, who will escort you to the academy," She instructed, before walking off.

Daphne's blush faded, replaced by a slow, triumphant smirk. She looked at Zaeryn, her violet eyes glittering. "Well," she purred, "You heard the High Commander. Let's go get you undressed."

Annalise gave him that same gentle smile. "I'll wait for you by the transport bay," she said kindly. "Take your time." She offered a respectful nod to Daphne before heading off, leaving Zaeryn alone with the Chief Scientist.

The professional tension immediately dissolved, replaced by something thick and intimate. Daphne's cheeks were still faintly pink from his teasing.

Zaeryn's grin widened, his eyes glinting with the mischief she now knew so well. "So," he said, his voice a low, casual rumble. "Be honest, Doctor. Did you miss me?"

Daphne's mouth opened, then closed again. She had missed him—more than she cared to admit. But the admission caught in her throat; saying it aloud would make it too real, too vulnerable.

"Just… follow me, anomaly," she snapped instead, pivoting sharply on her heel and stalking down the corridor.

Zaeryn chuckled and followed, thoroughly enjoying the view as her hips swayed with controlled, indignant energy.

She led him to her office.

Inside there was no tailor, only a sleek, circular platform in the center of the room.

"Stand on the platform," Daphne instructed, her voice all business as she tapped commands into a wall-mounted console. "The scanner will take your measurements for the combat trainee uniform."

Zaeryn stepped onto the platform. "No tailor with measuring tape? I'm disappointed. I was hoping for a more... personal touch." His eyes flicked to her, letting the invitation hang in the air.

"We're a top-tier research facility, not a pre-Scorch haberdashery," she shot back, pointedly avoiding his gaze. "The scanner is accurate to the micron."

A series of pale blue lasers swept over his body, from his boots to his hair. On the main console, a perfect 3D model of him materialized, rotating slowly as the black uniform was digitally rendered onto it.

Zaeryn studied the design. It was sleek, functional, and definitely looked better than his civilian clothes.

"Hmm." Zaeryn tapped his chin. "I was just thinking... since we have this... bond…" He let the word land, enjoying the way her shoulders tensed. "Should'nt we get to know each other better?"

"Oh, you want us to spend m ore time together?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Sure," she said finally, the word clipped and professional, though her eyes were anything but. "When?"

Zaeryn's smile widened. He had her. "You let me know."

"I'll… see if I can find time in my schedule for more."

She turned back to the console, "The scan is complete."

A fabrication unit built into the far wall whirred to life. A moment later, a sleek uniform, perfectly folded, slid out from a compartment. Daphne retrieved it, her movements regaining their usual crisp efficiency.

"Your new academy uniform," Daphne said, holding it out. "Specialized branch. Tailored."

Zaeryn took it. The material was nothing like the scratchy synthetics of his old school—smooth, lightweight, almost alive to the touch. Deep charcoal black, faintly iridescent, with silver piping tracing the seams.

"Fancy," he said, holding it up. It looked less like a school uniform and more like something Arya would wear on a mission. "Comes with a warning label? 'May attract unwanted scientific scrutiny'?"

"It's insulated against energy fluctuations," Daphne said, a smirk twitching at her lips. "Among other things. Try it on. I need to see the fit."

Right, check the fit. Zaeryn thought, though Daphne had practically memorized every inch of him already. Still, he played along, deliberately slow, letting her gaze trace him as he slipped his current shirt over his head.

He was just reaching for the new uniform when the door slid open—without warning.

"Daphne, you will not believe what Commander Thorne just said about the new Vorthak—oh."

Kira Thorne froze in the doorway. Her green eyes widened, scanning the scene: Daphne standing too close, Zaeryn shirtless, his physique on full display.

Her professional poise melted into a slow, mischievous grin.

"Well, hello," she purred, stepping in and letting the door hiss shut. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Kira," Daphne snapped, sharp as a scalpel. "I'm busy. Don't you know how to knock?"

Kira's eyes never left Zaeryn. She circled him slowly, gaze roaming every line of his chest, every cut of his abs. "My apologies, Zaeryn. I didn't realize you were here."

'Goddess Marea…' Kira thought, heart racing. 'He's perfect. Now I know why Daphne risked everything… I wonder what it would feel like…'

Zaeryn smirked, feeling the heat of her stare. "Just trying on the new uniform, Dr. Thorne. I can stop if I'm distracting you."

Kira leaned close, just enough that the scent of her perfume brushed against him. "Oh, you're definitely a distraction," she whispered, gaze dipping briefly to his pants before returning to his eyes. "But please… don't stop for me."

Daphne's voice dropped to a growl. "Why are you always badging in?"

Zaeryn chuckled, picking up the uniform pants and ducking behind a privacy screen. He emerged moments later transformed: the pants cut perfectly, the tunic sculpted to his chest and shoulders. Silver piping caught the light, accentuating every line. He looked sleek, lethal, and undeniably magnetic.

Kira let out a low whistle. "Unfair. You're going to cause accidents. Half the staff will walk into walls."

Daphne tried to maintain her clinical composure, but Zaeryn caught the flicker of admiration—and ownership—in her eyes. "The fit is… adequate," she said, stepping closer. Her fingers brushed a lapel, lingering just a second too long.

"Feels good," Zaeryn said, voice low, letting his fingers briefly lace with hers. Electric. "A perfect fit."

Kira watched, grin turning wicked. "If you ever need help…," she said, voice teasing, "my lab is always open. Xenobiology. We… study new species."

Daphne's reply was ice. "Get out."

Kira laughed, backing out. "Alright, alright! See you around, Zaeryn." The door hissed shut, leaving silence heavy in its wake.

Zaeryn turned to Daphne. She was still close, eyes tracing the lines of the uniform with an intensity that made his pulse quicken.

"Alright… I think you're set to leave," she murmured, her hands brushing over his chest. "Annalise will escort you to the academy now."

Zaeryn nodded, leaning in to cup her face. Their lips met in a brief, fierce kiss, electric and unmistakably charged, before he pulled back and strode out of her office.

It was time. Time to head to the academy, and step into a new chapter of challenges, attention, and inevitable distractions.

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