Page 185 of Knot Their Fated M.U.S.E

They think they understand pain.

They believe six years of separation and institutional torture represents the depths of human suffering.

How naive.

True agony lives in the spaces between thoughts, in the moments when facades crumble and reveal the rotting foundation beneath. The institutional conditioning they've endured proves elementary compared to the surgical precision required to dissect a soul and display its component failures.

I hear their approach through enhanced perception that operates beyond normal sensory parameters.

Four sets of footsteps moving with pack coordination, breathing patterns that speak to recent exertion and mounting stress. Enhanced heartbeats that announce arousal alongside tactical alertness—evidence of continued territorial claiming despite environmental pressure.

The scent signature reaches me before visual confirmation becomes possible.

Cardamom and cinnamon layered with masculine musk from multiple sources, atmospheric concentration that announces successful mating and comprehensive pack bonding. The chemical complexity proves intoxicating despite years of emotional suppression and psychological conditioning.

But underneath familiar sweetness lurks something that makes my analytical mind focus with predatory precision.

Heat approach.

The cascade triggered through Alpha contact and systematic claiming, designation response that will demand comprehensive pack attention regardless of tactical timing or environmental considerations.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Psychological vulnerability enhanced through designation pressure, emotional barriers compromised by hormonal fluctuation that operates beyond conscious control. Theapproaching heat creates opportunity for truth extraction that transcends normal interrogation methodology.

The entrance portal activates as proximity sensors register authorized presence.

Four figures emerge through atmospheric disturbance—Riot carrying obvious evidence of recent combat engagement, Sable maintaining judicial composure despite visible exhaustion, Ash radiating protective satisfaction that speaks to successful territorial claiming.

And her.

Our Omega.

The strategist who assembled us with calculated precision before institutional betrayal tore apart everything she'd built through careful manipulation and tactical genius.

Six years have transformed potential into devastating reality.

Where I remembered budding capability constrained by youth and inexperience, the woman before me radiates authority that transcends designation politics or institutional classification. Enhanced training has refined natural intelligence into something approaching weaponized psychology.

Beautiful and dangerous in perfect synthesis.

The combination that always appealed to intellectual appreciation rather than simple territorial instinct.

Her silver-green eyes scan the environment with tactical precision that catalogs threats and advantages with mathematical efficiency.

Enhanced perception immediately recognizes the psychological complexity embedded within seemingly simple glass architecture. Not random maze but deliberate construction designed to serve specific purpose beyond navigation challenge.

Intelligent recognition proving immediate and comprehensive.

Exactly what I hoped.

Exactly what I designed this level to exploit.

"Corvus," she states with characteristic directness that acknowledges recognition while maintaining emotional distance and tactical assessment.

My name from her lips carries weight that six years of separation couldn't diminish.

---