The hall outside Elena's room stretched endlessly, illuminated by threads of blue energy running through the walls like living veins. Every step she took with Clara echoed softly, the air humming around them with a quiet power she couldn't name.
Clara chattered cheerfully as she led her forward.
"It's a bit early for you to walk around, but Aren said the faster you get used to the Valley, the better. He never wants you to feel afraid here."
Elena's heart stumbled.
Aren.
The Commander.
Her so-called mate.
"How… how does he know I'm awake?" Elena asked carefully.
Clara blinked at her, as if the answer were obvious. "Your Core is connected to his. When your energy awakened, he felt it instantly."
Elena swallowed hard. "He felt me?"
"Mhm!" Clara nodded happily. "Bonded pairs always do. Just… yours is different. Stronger. More intense."
Elena didn't know how to respond to that. She barely understood her own presence here, let alone a bond deeper than memory.
Clara stopped suddenly. "Look!"
They reached a wide gallery balcony overlooking the entire central valley. Elena inhaled sharply.
Below them—
Bright pathways flowed like rivers of light.
Glowing trees rustled with leaves that shimmered in the air.
Tall crystalline towers pulsed with elemental energy, feeding into the shield wall that curved across the sky.
People moved with purpose—some carrying glowing stones, others controlling floating platforms, children running with sparks of harmless light in their palms.
It was a world reborn.
A world built on power.
A world that should not exist.
"Elena." Clara tugged her sleeve. "You're shaking."
She hadn't realized she was.
"I just… none of this feels real."
Clara softened, placing a small hand over Elena's. "It will. Little by little."
Before Elena could answer, a violent breeze swept through the valley—fast, sharp, electric.
Lights flickered.
People paused mid-walk.
Then—
Six streaks of light tore across the sky.
Elena's breath froze as she saw them—figures flying on hovering grav-skates, cutting through the air with precision and power.
They descended rapidly, winds whipping around them as they aimed for the central landing platform in front of the gallery.
Clara's eyes widened. "They're back!"
Elena's stomach twisted.
The first five landed one after another—two women, three men—all armored, holding weapons glowing with elemental energy. Their boots touched ground with practiced silence.
But the last one…
His landing shook the platform.
He descended like a storm given form, a streak of white electricity racing down the grav-skate. Sparks erupted around him as he landed, dust scattering, the air crackling.
Elena felt it.
Not saw.
Not heard.
Felt.
A pulse shot through her chest—like a jolt of energy traveling straight to her heart. Her wrist burned softly beneath the skin.
Clara whispered, voice trembling with excitement:
"That's him."
He lifted his head.
And Elena saw him clearly for the first time.
A tall man—broad-shouldered, every line of his body carved in perfect strength.
Black hair tousled by the wind.
Skin pale like storm-lit marble.
Eyes—
His eyes held the sky inside them.
Steel gray with streaks of gold light, like electricity trapped in irises.
Armor molded tightly to his frame, glowing faintly with red and blue currents. He looked like a general born of lightning and fire, forged in war.
The moment his gaze found Elena—
The world stilled.
Her lungs forgot how to breathe.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
Her bond mark pulsed, glowing faintly through her skin.
His expression froze—shocked, disbelieving, then darkening with something fierce and raw.
He moved.
Not walked.
He charged.
In a single step, he crossed half the platform, boots cracking the stone beneath him. His soldiers didn't even react—they bowed their heads and stepped aside silently.
Clara squeaked and darted backward, leaving Elena exposed and alone.
Before she could even think, Aren reached her.
He didn't speak.
He simply reached forward—
And pulled her against him.
Elena gasped as her face pressed into the warm armor of his chest. His arms locked around her in a hold both fierce and desperate, like someone terrified she might vanish if he let go.
The scent of smoke, rain, and electricity filled her senses.
Her hands trembled against him.
This man—this stranger—felt both foreign and familiar, like someone she had forgotten in a dream she once lived.
His voice came low, rough, breath trembling against her hair.
"You're here," he whispered. "You finally came back."
Elena's heart dropped.
"I—I don't remember—"
He pulled back instantly, eyes snapping down to hers.
A storm swirled in them—fear, relief, anger, tenderness all tangled.
"What do you mean?"
Clara stepped in quickly. "She has amnesia! She can't remember anything!"
Aren went still.
His jaw clenched.
A flicker of pain crossed his gaze so fast Elena wondered if she imagined it.
Then he exhaled slowly, calming himself.
"Amnesia…" he murmured, voice softer. "It doesn't matter."
His hand closed around her wrist—precisely where her bond mark glowed.
"You're alive. That's all that matters."
He turned to his soldiers, voice shifting immediately back to hardened command.
"Clear the floor. No one disturbs us."
His five warriors bowed as one. "Yes, Commander."
Aren didn't wait.
He pulled Elena gently but firmly toward the corridor she had come from, walking with long, purposeful strides. His touch was warm—too warm—like energy hummed beneath his skin.
Elena tried to break the silence. "W-wait. I don't understand any of this. I don't know who you are—"
He stopped in the middle of the hallway.
Turned.
And looked at her with a gaze that carried galaxies.
"I am Aren Voss," he said softly.
"Commander of the First Valley."
Her breath caught.
"And you," he continued, lifting her hand to his chest, right over his heartbeat, "are the woman fated to stand beside me."
Elena froze, heat rushing through her.
He finished quietly, voice full of the kind of certainty that shattered worlds:
"My mate."