Ezra slumped against the sleek wall of the Aureath Citadel's corridor. The faint hum of surveillance drones overhead pulsed in time with his racing heart, a reminder of the Council's unyielding gaze.
'If the drones are already watching me,' he thought, 'why bother sticking Mireille on me too?' He glanced at her but didn't dwell on it.
His mind drifted back to the call. Ysmeine had promised she'd come and bail him out. Her voice had been a thin thread of hope, but it felt weak now. She had no real power here, not against Lysara's cold command or the others lurking behind these walls.
Scans and tests? Fine. He could handle that. But if they decided he was dangerous, and Mireille's quiet talk of neutralization wasn't just a scare tactic… then that threat hung over him like a blade, ready to fall at his neck.
Ysmeine alone wouldn't be enough, he feared, the thought tightening his chest. He needed someone with real pull in this matriarchal fortress, someone who could bend the Council's will.
Athea, with her royal blood, might help. Or… his sister?
'Kayla?'
The name flashed in his mind, sharp as a War-Lady's blade, conjuring Ysmeine's younger sibling, a formidable War-Lady.
"Am I really about to call her?" he muttered, voice laced with bitter scorn. "Nah, that bitch won't help. I'd rather not humiliate myself."
Begging Kayla would be a mistake, she'd revel in his desperation, sneering at his weakness like she always had. They'd never gotten along, her disdain for him a wall he couldn't breach. He barely thought of her, let alone spoke her name, her existence was a cold shadow he preferred to ignore.
Kayla, Ysmeine's younger sister, was a legend in the War-lady force, her name whispered with awe and dread across the Queendoms. Her neuro-inscribed armor gleamed like starfire, her blade and magic carving through star-beasts with lethal precision.
Unlike Ysmeine's quiet warmth, Kayla's ambition burned cold, her loyalty to the Matriarchy was absolute. So absolute that she was the biggest male hater Ezra knew.
Since the swap at his birth, she'd barely acknowledged Ezra, her obsidian eyes dismissing him as a male liability who had done nothing but burden her sister, a walking anomaly no better than the monsters she hunted.
When Charlotte Thorne had likened him to the Vorthak in the Council chamber, it stung because Kayla had done the same, her words sharper, her contempt colder, as if he were a flaw in the Matriarchy's perfect order.
Calling her would be like begging a storm for mercy. He stared at Sage's contact on his comm. Then tapped it.
"Time to call Sage," he muttered.
Mireille stood nearby, silent and watchful.
Ezra sighed. "You don't need to watch. The drones are doing a pretty good job already."
"What if you try something stupid?" she replied, arms crossed.
He gave her a sideways glance. "Like what? Break out? Run down a corridor full of scanners and guards?"
She didn't answer, just kept her eyes on him.
"Relax," Ezra said, pulling up Sage's contact. "I'm not suicidal. Just calling my girlfriend."
"I'm just doing my job," she responded.
Ezra returned his gaze to the call as it started ringing. The call rang twice. Each beep made his nerves jump. Then her voice came through, sharp and warm, like a shot of whiskey on a bad night.
"Well, well. Look who remembered he has a girlfriend."
Her voice pulled a small smile from him, even with everything going on. Her sarcasm was exactly what he needed. As she spoke, Ezra felt that familiar warmth—Sage's brilliant mind somehow making his own thoughts clearer, sharper.
"Miss me already?" he asked, the words coming easier than they should have.
"What do you think?" she teased, her tone playful. He could picture her smirking.
"I think you miss me," he said with a grin, then glanced at Mireille again. Her presence reminded him—he was still under watch.
"You know me," Sage replied, her voice softening. It was laced with warmth beneath the jokes.
Ezra took a breath. He needed her. Her support, her family ties. They might not like him, but as his girlfriend, Sage could still leverage that.
"So… how'd dinner go with your folks?" he asked. He kept it casual, but he was probing. Her family didn't like him, and he had refused to meet them countless times, but he hoped she wasn't mad at him and she still had his back.
"The usual," she said dryly. He could hear her rolling her eyes. "And next time, you're coming with me. No excuses."
He chuckled weakly. "Got it," he said, not actually meaning it. His mind was still on the Council and what they planned to do with him.
Sage paused. Then her tone changed. Sharper now.
"It's late. And you're calling me, not the other way around. What's going on, babe? Don't tell me this is just because you missed me."
Ezra rubbed his face, slightly embarrassed, because she wasn't wrong. He might be a bad boyfriend for the way he treated this relationship.
Ezra had never been great at this part. Sage was the one who usually called him, checked in, kept things going. He showed up when it mattered mostly—but the small stuff? The effort? That was on her. Always had been.
Ezra's grip tightened around the comm. The sterile air around him felt heavier. "You're right," he said quietly. "I'm in trouble."
That was an understatement, but it was all he could say.
"What kind of trouble?" Her voice turned serious. He pictured her sitting up in bed, eyes narrowing, already worried. Already ready to fight for him.
"I can't explain everything over the phone. But I'm in the Council's custody at the Aureath Citadel."
The words felt heavy, each one a confession of how deep he'd sunk this time. Fade immunity, Eros Engine, a male who dared to fight back. It wasn't his fault, but that didn't matter at the moment.
"Custody?" Sage's voice spiked, a flash of shock giving way to fierce resolve. "At… did… I'll be there soon."
Her words tumbled out, clipped and determined, like she was already grabbing her jacket. The fierce protectiveness in her voice sent warmth through his chest—that connection he'd felt since they got together, her loyalty feeding into his confidence.
Ezra pocketed the comm, Sage's fierce promise giving him hope. He could feel it now—Ysmeine's strength in his shoulders, Sage's quick wit sharpening his thoughts. The Eros Engine hummed quietly in the background, amplifying what he already had.
He straightened, squaring his shoulders against the glowing neuro-glyphs etched into the corridor walls, their faint hum pulsing like a heartbeat. He looked at Mireille, "Alright, I'm ready!"
"This way," Mireille said.
She led him through a seamless panel that slid open with a hiss, revealing a sleek testing chamber that reeked of antiseptic and quiet menace.
This room was different from the Citadel's grand chamber, a clinical cube of polished white surfaces, illuminated by soft, sterile light that seemed to strip away shadows.
Holographic screens flickered along one wall, displaying streams of biometric data, while a central platform held a sleek, cushioned examination chair rigged with sensor arrays that glowed faintly, like the neuro-circuits on Kayla's armor.
Four women waited for him inside.
The first thing Ezra noticed was that each was a different flavor of dangerous—seductive, commanding, untouchable. Yet here Ezra was, trapped in their orbit, heart pounding in a mix of awe and primal instinct.
Something stirred in his chest. Not fear—anticipation. The soul sync system, recognized opportunity when it saw it.
In the Queendoms, beauty was as much a weapon as magic or steel, and these women wielded it with devastating precision.
At the center stood Daphne. Her icy violet eyes pinning Ezra with the same predatory curiosity she'd unleashed in the Council chamber.
Other people in the room with Daphne were three scientists, each a total smoke show, their beauty so striking it seemed the Queendoms engineered perfection as a rule. Ezra hadn't seen a single unattractive person since arriving at this place, and he wasn't about to start complaining, not when every glance was a feast for the senses.
The first one was Dr. Sylis Korran. She moved with smooth, practiced confidence. Her jet-black hair was braided neatly down her back, and her emerald eyes stayed sharp and focused. The lab coat hugged her slim waist and flared slightly at the hips, parting to show sleek thigh-high boots. Her fitted shirt dipped low enough to hint at cleavage, but her attention stayed on her datapad, fingers moving with calm precision.
Dr. Lirien Vax had a warm, smoldering presence. Her auburn curls were loosely pinned, framing striking features and falling over her shoulders. A shimmering jumpsuit hugged her hourglass figure, highlighting her full bust and curvy hips. Her steps were slow and deliberate, drawing the eye without trying. She met Ezra's gaze with amber eyes and a teasing smile that hinted at more.
Dr. Aurenna Thal, the youngest, had platinum blonde hair and sharp gray eyes full of energy. Her lab coat hung open over a snug blouse that showed off a toned, curvy frame. Her pants fit close, emphasizing strong hips and a confident stance. Glowing neuro-circuits along her wrist gear pulsed with faint light, connecting her look to the Queendoms' sleek tech style.
Each woman carried herself with control and allure, their outfits walking the line between clinical formality and the Queendoms' bold, unapologetic glamour.
Daphne stepped forward, her heels clicking on the floor and her violet eyes gleaming with even more amusement than before.
"Zaeryn Noctis," she purred. "You're already proving to be… fascinating. Most men would be trembling by now, yet here you are, strolling in like you own the place. Care to enlighten us on how you plan to charm your way through a Fade immunity test?"
Ezra felt that borrowed confidence from Sage kick in, making his grin come naturally. "Charm's all I've got, Dr. Virellith. Unless you're handing out swords to fight my way out."
His eyes swept the room, taking in Sylis's raised brow, Lirien's amused smirk, Aurenna's assessing gaze. He should be nervous, but he wasn't. The Engine was working, drawing on his bonds to keep him steady.
Daphne's smile widened. "Sit down, Zaeryn."
She gestured to the chair.
"We're about to find out what makes you so… singular."