PROJECT: CAYRO

Star Zaraki:

September 11, 2025

14:52 CST

Zaraki Mansion

Cedar Rapids IA.

After what should have been a short car ride back to the mansion, I stormed up the stairs to my bedroom, Cayro hot on my heels. His anger was practically a tangible force, radiating off him in waves. He was growling intermittently, his frustration palpable, though I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me, Director Staroko, or the obnoxious captain of Team Balfour. I only knew that both of us were pissed off. That moron had the audacity to treat me like some trophy to be fought over—a notion that had my blood boiling. The second I entered our room, I spun around to face Cayro, slamming the door shut with a force that made the walls tremble.

“Whatever your problem is, Cayro, save it. I don’t want to hear about how tough or badass you think you are or that you could’ve taken him down. Just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m some prize that belongs to you or anyone else. I am my own person, with my own thoughts, wants, and desires. If you can’t get that through your thick skull, then this,” I pointed between us, “is not going to work. I will not be treated like an object.”

I watched as the realization hit him like a freight train. He froze, his anger momentarily forgotten, as the gears in his head started turning. His mouth opened and closed, words failing him as he processed what I’d just thrown at him.

“…so, we’re actually together?” he finally stammered out.

“Well, duh… We’ve nearly had sex how many times in the past two weeks? We sleep in the same bed, kiss, comfort each other, and practically do everything together, Cayro. What else would you call it?” I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief.

He deflated, the tension draining from his shoulders as he sat down on the bed, clearly trying to wrap his head around what I’d just said. I would’ve thought it was obvious we were dating, but then again, I’d never really dated anyone before. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure what to call us—I just knew that being with him felt right. I watched him closely, waiting for him to respond.

“Star, I don’t see you as an object. There’s something inside me, in my mind, that compels me to protect you. I don’t fully understand it, but it’s like this overwhelming need to make sure you’re safe,” he said quietly, staring at his hands.

His words caught me off guard. The very reason I’d challenged that arrogant bastard from Team Balfour was to protect Cayro—I didn’t want to see him get hurt. But I also refused to be treated like a piece of meat. I wasn’t about to let some cocky skyboarder add me to his list of conquests.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. I turned to see Dr. Volkova poking her head in, her expression tinged with concern.

“Are you two alright?” she asked in her gentle Russian accent.

“I’m not sure, honestly,” I replied bluntly. The emotional rollercoaster of the past two weeks was taking its toll on me. It felt like a massive, suffocating ball of tension was building in my chest, and I had no idea how to release it. It was growing, and I feared what might happen when it finally exploded.

“Ah, what seems to be the problem?” Dr. Volkova asked as she moved to sit in my desk chair, her eyes flicking between me and Cayro.

I hesitated, trying to put my chaotic thoughts into words. “What’s going on between Cayro and me? We can’t seem to be apart, we’re constantly drawn to each other. There’s this overwhelming instinct to protect one another, but everything else is a mess. Our emotions are all over the place, and I’m an emotional wreck. Cayro isn’t doing any better, and it’s like we’re trying to fit pieces together that just won’t align. I feel overwhelmed by everything,” I confessed, glancing over at Cayro to see him watching us, his expression torn.

“Star’s right,” Cayro began, his voice low but charged with the same frustration that was coursing through me. “This afternoon, I was ready to kill that guy for what he said to her. With everything that’s been happening to us lately, all the new information dumped on us… We haven’t even had time to process what went down before we got here. And now, finding out we’re some sort of mutant hybrids and that mythical creatures actually exist—it’s all… just a lot.” His words mirrored my own thoughts exactly, hitting the nail on the head of our shared confusion and stress.

“Hmm… Let’s address one thing at a time,” Dr. Volkova suggested, her voice calm and clinical as usual. She exuded a sense of control, which was a stark contrast to the chaos Cayro and I were feeling inside.

We both nodded in agreement, our eyes fixed on her as we waited for her to continue.

“Star, you mentioned earlier this afternoon, in front of Cameron, that Cayro was your boyfriend, correct?” she asked, her gaze shifting to me.

“Yes,” I replied, still feeling the heat of that encounter burning in the back of my mind.

“That is, in fact, incorrect,” she stated bluntly.

“What?” Cayro and I said in unison, both of us taken aback by her words.

“The two of you are more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. In our culture, you two are what we call a bonded pair, or as some refer to it, fated mates. Essentially, the two of you were destined to be together from birth. The surprising thing is, fated mates are extremely rare. They usually only occur within a specific werewolf bloodline that was thought to have died out a long time ago. The complication here is that we don’t know if this bond is a result of you, Star, being a Draconian—or if it’s tied to the werewolf DNA grafted onto you. Your father is the first Draconian known to exist, which potentially makes him a Royal. Royals are the originators of their species. They are the strongest of their kind and have the unique ability to find a fated mate. Since your father is so secretive about his origins, we just don’t know. But the point I’m making is this: the two of you are…” Dr. Volkova paused, choosing her next words carefully, “essentially married, by the standards of werewolf and other supernatural cultures.”

The word hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Married?” Cayro asked bluntly, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Yes,” Dr. Volkova confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact.

“How? We didn’t have a ceremony, we didn’t sign any paperwork…” I stammered, my mind reeling from the revelation.

“On the contrary, you did. The bite marks just below your necks, now scarred over, are proof of that,” she explained. “When you bit each other, do you recall the words you spoke?”

I glanced at Cayro, then back at Dr. Volkova, trying to piece together what she was implying.

“We didn’t say any words before we bit each other,” I began hesitantly. “It felt like something took over my body while we were en route here, though.”

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, her tone sharpening with interest.

“We… we said something in a different language. A language neither of us understood. Scuzball interrupted before we could figure out what was happening,” I explained, the memory slowly resurfacing.

“Do you remember what you said?” she pressed gently.

“Not precisely…” I started, but the memory suddenly crashed into me with the force of a freight train. The words tumbled out of my mouth in a lyrical tone, as if they had been waiting all along to be spoken again. “Is est mei. Nullus alius eum habere potest. Disperdam eos qui dividunt nos. Spiritus et magica arma mea sunt. Protegam eum et stabo cum illo. Ipse est mundus meus, et columna mea fortitudinis. Ante tonitru me commendo ei in vera unione.”

Cayro echoed his version with me, our voices blending in perfect harmony.

“And so, it has been witnessed by the pack that your mate bond is true,” Dr. Volkova declared, rising from my chair with an air of authority. Her eyes glowed a fierce amber yellow, a sight that sent a shiver down my spine. Suddenly, another surge of energy slammed into my mind like a tidal wave, nearly bringing me to my knees. A new connection blazed to life, linking me not just to Cayro, but to every werewolf within SkyTeam. The force of it was overwhelming, and I heard Dr. Volkova gasp, clapping her hands to her mouth in shock. The compound echoed with the sound of wolf howls, a chorus that filled the air as the reality of our bond settled over us.

“I… I…” Dr. Volkova stammered, her normally composed demeanor shattered. She slowly sank back into the chair, her face a canvas of shock.

“What was that?” Cayro blurted out, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

“Bonding magic…” she managed to say, still visibly shaken.

“What?” Cayro repeated, confusion and concern mingling in his tone. “What language did we just speak?”

“Latin,” Dr. Volkova replied, finding her voice. “Oddly enough, you both recited two different vows.”

“Could you be a little more descriptive, please?” I pressed, needing to understand the gravity of what had just happened.

“Yes, of course. I’m just trying to wrap my head around it,” she apologized, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. We watched her closely as she began to explain.

“Your mate bond is… quite unique. I’ve never seen a mixed mate bond before. Star, your side of the bond is definitely Draconian. The rough translation of what you said is: He is mine. No one else can have him. I will destroy those who divide us. Spirit and magic are my weapons. I will protect him and stand with him. He is my world, and my pillar of strength. Before the thunder, I commend myself to him in true union. The mention of ‘magic’ and ‘thunder’ are terms traditionally associated with dragons—or, in this case, Draconians,” she explained, her professional tone slipping slightly under the weight of this revelation.

“But I thought Draconians weren’t dragons?” I asked, my confusion deepening.

“True, but it seems they might be closely related. The translation could be a bit off, especially with a term like ‘spirit’ instead of ‘fire.’ But the essence is clear,” she replied, still processing the implications herself.

“What about Cayro’s vow? You mentioned that we have a mixed bonding,” I prompted, eager to understand the full picture.

“Yes, his vow translates to: She is my wife. I will destroy those who divide us. Teeth and skin are my weapons. I will protect her and stand with her. My house and my sanctification; I commend myself to this woman in true union before the wolves. This is clearly indicative of werewolves. Your bond is true, and somehow, the magic worked despite the vows representing two different species,” she said, her tone filled with a mix of awe and concern.

“So, what we said in the skycar on the way here was our bonding ceremony?” I asked, the realization dawning on me.

“That is correct. What’s even more unique is that through Cayro’s side of the bond, you two have been officially accepted into the pack—though inadvertently. Your bond is both werewolf and Draconian-based. By our customs, you are legally married. Cameron had no right to challenge Cayro for you, Star. Your bond was already in place. But because it wasn’t completed in front of a pack or thunder member to witness it, the bond wasn’t completely sealed… until now,” Dr. Volkova explained.

“So, Star and I are… married?” Cayro asked, his voice quiet, as if he was still trying to grasp the enormity of it.

“Yes, and it’s not the kind of marriage that can be undone. It’s permanent. One-can’t-live-without-the-other kind of permanent. This explains why your protective instincts toward each other are so intense. Possibly even more so due to the fact that this is a mixed pairing. Bonded mates have a unique ability that no other pairings have—they can power share through emotions,” Dr. Volkova elaborated, her eyes studying us both intently.

“What do you mean by power sharing?” Cayro asked, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice.

“Essentially, your bond allows you to share each other’s abilities. This might explain why you two are so possessive of one another. Werewolves are naturally protective of their mates, and Draconians—well, the one Draconian I know—is notoriously short-tempered. Combined, you two become a pair of bonded mates who will do anything to protect each other,” she concluded, her voice firm but gentle.

I turned to look at Cayro, my mind spinning with all that had just been revealed. He stepped closer, pressing his forehead against mine, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace.

“Star, I’ve never really understood what it means to be a boyfriend or a husband. But since you’ve come into my life, I’ve realized one thing: I love you. I won’t stray from those feelings, no matter what this rollercoaster of life throws at us,” he said softly, his presence enveloping my mind like a warm blanket.

For the first time in days, I let down the walls I had built up around my mind and allowed him in completely. His presence was both exhilarating and soothing, a balm to the stress and confusion that had been eating away at me. I hadn’t realized until this moment how much I needed him, how much I needed this connection. All the stress, all the secrets, had been piling up, causing me to shut down. But now, with him so close, it felt like I could finally breathe again.

“I’m going to kill Stephan when I see him again…” Dr. Volkova blurted out, her voice seething with barely contained rage.

Cayro and I both turned to her, confusion etched on our faces. “Why?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Because I now know whose blood was used in your augmentation,” she growled, her tone darkening with anger.

“Whose?” Cayro and I asked simultaneously, our voices urgent.

“I can’t tell you…” she quickly replied, her voice tight with frustration. “But trust me, he’s going to get his ass kicked for this.”

We stood side by side in silence, Cayro’s arm wrapped protectively around me as the Doctor pulled out her phone, furiously typing a text message. I could only guess it was directed at Director Staroko. Once she finished and shoved her phone back into her pocket, she turned her attention back to us.

“You mentioned that Team Balfour’s captain had no right to challenge either of us. Does that mean Star doesn’t have to do the challenge?” Cayro asked, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Technically, no,” she replied, her tone measured.

I quickly stepped away from Cayro, facing him head-on with a fierce determination. “You can hold your horses right there, Lover Boy. I am doing this challenge—with or without your help. That motherfucker treated me like a piece of meat and had the audacity to call me a bitch. No one calls me a bitch and gets away with it,” I growled, my voice brimming with defiance.

Cayro threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright… You’re accepting the challenge. I was just asking,” he replied, his tone placating.

I turned back to Dr. Volkova, my mind already focused on the upcoming fight. “What time is my bout with the moron?” I asked bluntly.

“It will be at nine o’clock tonight, giving you plenty of time to prepare,” she replied, her voice steady.

“Good. What are the rules?” I asked, my tone serious and unyielding.

“It’s a challenge to submission. The first wolf to submit loses. No deadly weapons are allowed. Stephan is allowing you a handicap, though—you can use your combat suit with some restrictions. You’re allowed to use your chest and groin plates, upper arm guards, and thigh guards. No helmet, shin guards, gauntlets, gloves, boots, or the nanotech built into the suits. The challenge is about endurance, strength, and dominance. You have to beat Cameron by sheer force of will and strength,” Dr. Volkova explained, her tone clinical.

“I won’t need my suit for this piss-ant,” I stated bluntly, shooting a glare at Cayro as he opened his mouth to protest.

“You’re not going to take the handicap?” Dr. Volkova asked, her surprise evident.

“Nope. Now, what are his weaknesses?” I asked, already beginning to formulate a plan in my mind.

“Good question. As you saw earlier, he’s arrogant and vain. He’s one of the more dominant wolves of his generation in this pack. He’s good in a fight and has won many unofficial challenges among his peers. But his love of showing off makes him sloppy when things don’t go his way. If you can throw him off his game, he’ll lose his edge and try to rely on brute dominance,” she detailed, feeding my strategic instincts.

“So, make him feel like he’s not the center of attention, then?” I asked, piecing together my approach.

“Correct. Get the crowd’s attention off him and onto you. It’ll make him feel inadequate, and that’s when he’ll get sloppy,” she replied, her eyes sharpening with understanding.

“Good to know,” I said, the beginnings of a plan taking shape in my mind. “Let me guess, he’s going to make another entrance like he did earlier?” I asked, already predicting his moves.

“Most likely. Since he sees you as a weaker opponent, he’ll probably do something similar, though maybe not as flashy,” she elaborated, her voice tinged with disdain for Cameron’s predictable arrogance.

I nodded, a wicked grin spreading across my face as a devious idea formed. “I think I have just the thing for him. How many members of the pack follow the skyboarding competitions?”

“Nearly everyone here does. In fact, the majority of SkyTeam is either Team SAF or Team Balfour. Why?” she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

“Because I’m the tip of the spear for Team SAF,” I replied, my grin widening as I reached over to my desk and grabbed a skyboarding magazine. Flipping through it quickly, I found a recent picture of the crew making our entrance over a stadium in Japan. I pointed at the very first rider in the delta formation.

“That’s me right there,” I pointed out proudly, my finger landing on the image in the magazine. In the photo, I was wearing my signature black helmet with its reflective visor, the team’s black tank top emblazoned with our logo, a sleek leather coat, black cargo pants, and my combat boots. I was riding my black skyboard, holding the team’s large banner in my left hand as we soared in formation.

“That’s you!” Cayro exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and excitement.

“Yep,” I confirmed, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips.

“Do you realize how famous you are? Everyone’s been dying to know who’s behind the mask and why she never competes!” Cayro continued, his enthusiasm contagious.

“Of course I know,” I replied with a knowing grin. “I don’t compete because of exactly what we’re dealing with now. It wasn’t safe for me to be recognized. The team allowed me to participate as long as I didn’t compete openly.”

I watched as a devious grin slowly spread across Cayro’s face. He was beginning to understand exactly what I had in mind. Tonight, I was going to reveal to the entire company—and especially to Cameron—just who I really was.

“How well do you know our opening scene, Cayro?” I asked, the excitement building between us.

“I’ve got it memorized. It’s one of the best opening entrances in the competition world. I’ve even practiced Captain Clark’s part regularly,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.

“Perfect. Will you be my wingman?” I asked, my eyes locking onto his.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” he teased, his playful tone answering my question before I could even respond.

I turned my gaze to Dr. Volkova, who was still staring at the magazine, her expression one of astonished amusement. “What do you think, Doctor?” I asked, eager for her approval.

“If this really is you,” she said, a devious grin forming on her lips, “then Cameron is in for a very rude awakening.” Her grin was almost wolfish, a reflection of the predatory satisfaction she felt.

“Do you think Director Staroko will have a problem with it?” I inquired, wanting to cover all bases.

“Don’t worry about him. He has much bigger fish to fry right now. You have my seal of approval, Team SAF. We werewolves do love a grand entrance. Go ahead with your plan. Leave Stephan to me. I’ll see you two tonight,” she said, turning to leave with a satisfied nod.

“Doctor, before you go, we need skyboards, our team outfits, and some specific supplies,” I called out just as she reached the door.

“I’ll have your combat boards brought to you, and you can request anything else you need from the house staff. Your father made sure that you and Cayro have a complete set of outfits in your closets. You’ll also find a banner and flagpole with your gear, Star,” she replied, already halfway out the door.

“We can use our combat boards?” I asked, a hint of surprise in my voice.

“Absolutely. They’re more advanced than Team Balfour’s boards, and they’re already linked to you. Less hassle to set up. Now, go show Team Balfour what Team SAF is all about,” she cheered, her encouragement ringing in the room.

“Yes, Ma’am!” I exclaimed, my adrenaline spiking as the anticipation of what was to come surged through me.