Night settled over the mountain like a held breath.
The winds that once roared now circled slowly, deliberately, carrying the scent of vigilance instead of celebration. High above, Hawk Clan sentries traced wide arcs across the sky, their silhouettes cutting through moonlight like blades.
Inside the mountain chamber, warmth endured.
The egg pulsed softly, its golden veins steady now, no longer flaring—but alive, aware. Each glow cast gentle light across the stone walls, over Lin Yue's pale face, over Feng Lihan's wings as he stood watch nearby.
Lin Yue had drifted in and out of sleep.
Each time he stirred, he felt it—pressure, warmth, safety.
Feng Lihan.
He was there every time Lin Yue opened his eyes.
"You should rest," Lin Yue murmured at last, voice hoarse but teasing. "You've been standing like a guard statue for hours."
Feng Lihan didn't look away from the cave entrance. "Statues don't bleed," he replied calmly. "I do."
Lin Yue smiled faintly.
"You always make it sound so dramatic."
Only then did Feng Lihan turn, his sharp gaze softening the moment it landed on Lin Yue. He walked over, movements careful despite his size, and lowered himself beside the furs.
"Dramatic things happen around you," he said quietly.
Lin Yue shifted, wincing slightly as exhaustion pulled at his limbs. Feng Lihan noticed immediately and reached out, steadying him without hesitation.
"Easy," he murmured. "Your body's still adjusting."
Lin Yue leaned into the touch before he could stop himself.
The realization made him freeze.
Feng Lihan didn't pull away.
Instead, he adjusted, sliding an arm behind Lin Yue's back, supporting him fully against his chest. His wing curved instinctively, creating a cocoon of feathers and warmth.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
The silence wasn't awkward.
It was heavy—with things unsaid, with years of trust forged through blood and battle, now reshaping into something softer.
"I thought I would break," Lin Yue said quietly. "When it happened. When the energy surged."
Feng Lihan lowered his chin to rest lightly against Lin Yue's hair. "You didn't."
"I was afraid I wouldn't be strong enough," Lin Yue admitted. "For it. For… us."
That made Feng Lihan tighten his hold—just a fraction.
"You don't have to be strong alone," he said. "Not anymore."
Lin Yue's breath trembled.
"You sound very certain."
"I am," Feng Lihan replied without hesitation. "The moment that egg responded to you, the moment it chose your life-force—I stopped pretending this was something temporary."
Lin Yue tilted his head slightly, enough to look up at him. "Pretending what?"
"That I could walk away."
The words were quiet—but they landed like thunder.
Outside, a distant cry echoed—a warning call from the western patrol.
Feng Lihan's eyes sharpened instantly, instincts snapping into place, but he didn't release Lin Yue.
"They're testing the perimeter," he said. "Nothing more. Yet."
Lin Yue's fingers curled into Feng Lihan's sleeve. "And when it becomes more?"
Feng Lihan bent his head, forehead resting against Lin Yue's.
"Then I burn the sky," he said evenly. "Anyone who reaches for what's mine will learn what a Hawk Clan alpha protects."
Lin Yue laughed softly—breathless, disbelieving. "You're terrifying."
"Good."
The egg pulsed brighter suddenly, as if responding to the bond tightening between them.
Feng Lihan glanced at it, then back at Lin Yue, surprise flickering across his face. "It reacts when you're calm."
Lin Yue followed his gaze, awe replacing fear. "Then maybe… it knows we're safe."
"For now," Feng Lihan agreed.
He shifted, lowering them both carefully until Lin Yue was fully reclined against the furs again, but he stayed close—one wing still sheltering, one hand resting over Lin Yue's heartbeat.
"Sleep," Feng Lihan said softly. "I'll be here when you wake."
Lin Yue closed his eyes.
This time, sleep came easily.
Outside, the mountain remained on edge—clans watching, calculating, sharpening their greed.
But inside the golden-lit chamber, something fragile and powerful had taken root.
Not just a blessing.
Not just an heir.
But a bond the Beast World would soon learn—
Was not meant to be taken.