Page 47 of Bonded to the Star-Beast

The warrior pinned beneath him scrambles away as the pressure on his chest eases. The beast looks from the fleeing warrior to me, a low, confused growl rumbling in its massive chest. Its claws retract slightly. The red haze in its eyes recedes, leaving behind the conflicted, tortured gaze of the man I know.

He did it. He heard me.

We secure the surviving attackers, their faces a mixture of fear and disbelief. They are undeniable proof of Vex's plot. Jaro's own warriors, their expressions grim, bind the assassins with practiced efficiency. The political implications of this moment hang heavy in the air.

Jaro stands in the center of the carnage, his massive form trembling. He's trying to shift back, but the transformation is ragged, unstable. The intensity of the battle, the violent activation of the bond, has pushed his system to its limits. A spasm racks his body, and he stumbles, one knee hitting the ground with a thud.

He can't control it. The physiological stress is too great.My scientific mind takes over, pushing past the pain and fear.I need to help him. Stabilize him.

I move to his side, ignoring the warning looks from his guards.

“Jaro,” I say, my voice calm, clinical. “Focus on my voice. Regulate your breathing. Your metabolic rate is dangerously high. You need to bring it down slowly.”

He looks at me, his eyes a swirling mix of beast and man. He is fighting a war within himself.

I remember my conversations with Neema, with Kyra. The stories of shifters losing control, their bodies burning out from the sheer energy of an uncontrolled shift.

“The sonic frequencies in the Light Caves,” I say, an idea sparking. “They had a calming effect. The frequency... I can replicate it. Verbally.” I begin to hum, a low, steady tone, trying to match the frequency I recorded on my datapad.

He closes his eyes, his breathing still ragged but less frantic. He's listening. The muscles in his massive shoulders begin to relax.

I keep humming, my own voice a strange anchor in the bloody aftermath of the ambush. I place my hand on his forearm, feeling the tremors that still run through him. The bond between us is a current of shared exhaustion and pain, but also of a fierce, protective connection that has just been forged in violence.

Slowly, painfully, the beast recedes. The transformation reverses itself, muscles contracting, fur receding, bones reshaping. He collapses to his knees, now in his humanoid form, naked, bleeding, and trembling with the aftershocks of his own power.

I kneel in front of him, my own injuries forgotten. I take his face in my hands, my thumbs stroking his high cheekbones.

“You came back,” I whisper, my voice thick with a relief so profound it feels like a physical thing.

His eyes, now fully amber again, meet mine. They are filled with a raw vulnerability that steals my breath.

“Always,” he rasps, his voice a broken thing. “For you... always.”

We have the evidence we need to expose Vex. But the price was high. Jaro's rampage, though defensive, has violated the tribe's most sacred laws of combat. We have won this battle, but I fear we may have just handed Vex the weapons he needs to win the war.

Chapter 24: BALANCING POWER

The return to Vara-Ka is a grim procession. Our captives, bound and sullen, are marched ahead by Jaro's two guards. Jaro walks beside me, his steps heavy with a weight that has nothing to do with exhaustion. The bond between us is a low, thrumming current of shared anxiety. He is worried about the political fallout. I am worried about him. The tribe parts for us as we enter the settlement, a wave of whispers and shocked stares following our path to the Council Chamber.

The chamber is just as I remember it, a cavern of stone and authority. But this time, I am not a curious specimen. I am a catalyst. A variable that has destabilized an entire system.

Vex is already there, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mask of righteous fury. He looks from Jaro's tense frame to my bruised face and finally to the bound warriors being forced to their knees before the council.

“Chief Torq. Elders,” Vex begins, his voice booming with practiced formality. “As you can see, my cousin returns. Not with honor, but with the blood of our own on his hands.”

A murmur ripples through the assembled warriors.

Chief Torq, Jaro's father, sits on his stone throne, his face an unreadable landscape of ancient lines. “Explain yourself, Jaro. And you, Vex. These are your warriors. What is the meaning of this?”

“They attacked us,” Jaro says, his voice a low growl of contained rage. “They ambushed us in the pass. Their intent was to kill Kendra.”

Vex scoffs. “A convenient accusation. My warriors were on a sanctioned patrol of the Borderlands. It is far more likely that Jaro's beast, agitated by his unnatural bond, attacked them without provocation.”

“They lie,” one of Jaro's guards snaps, stepping forward. “We saw them. They fired on the Star-Walker first.”

“The word of Jaro's chosen against my own?” Vex appeals to the elders. “Who do you believe? A loyal warrior of the tribe, or a male whose mind is clouded by an alien female?”

The debate begins, a chaotic back-and-forth of accusations and denials. I stand beside Jaro, silent, my mind processing the situation like a complex equation with too many variables. Kyra is at my other side, her presence a small pocket of calm in the storm. She gives my hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

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