Page 36 of The Alien Minotaur's Bride

I stood on the platform and tried not to feel like a specimen.

Keth was at the edge of the chamber, held back by protocol. He couldn't stand with me during the assessment – that would contaminate the results, apparently. His scent would overwhelm mine, make it impossible to read the pair-bond signature accurately. So he stood at the boundary line, his body rigid with tension, his eyes never leaving my face.

The panel sat at the far end of the chamber. Five Khorreth, their horns heavy with status markers, their expressions carefully neutral. Vorreth stood to one side, his posture relaxed, his tail sweeping in those slow, satisfied arcs I'd learned to hate.

"The assessment will begin," the central panel member announced. His voice was deep and formal, carrying easily through the chamber. "The omega will remain on the platform. The assessors will approach."

Three Khorreth detached from the panel and walked towards me.

They moved in a formation – one in front, two flanking – and stopped at the edge of the platform. Their nostrils flared in unison, scenting the air around me. I held still, breathing slowly, trying to project the calm I didn't feel.

The front assessor leaned closer. He inhaled again, deeper this time, and his brow furrowed.

"The omega's scent is–" He paused. Inhaled again. "Unusual. There are markers of compatibility, but the pair-bond signature is..."

"Faint," one of the flanking assessors finished. "I'm reading production markers, heat-cycle alignment, but the bond-scent is weak. Almost absent."

That wasn't right. I could smell Keth from here – his scent threaded through my own, inseparable after days of intimacy and milking and sleeping wrapped in furs that smelled like him. The bond was there. It had to be.

But the assessors were shaking their heads. Conferring in low voices. Looking at me with expressions that had shifted from neutral to concerned.

"The reading is inconclusive," the front assessor announced, turning back to the panel. "The omega shows compatibility markers, but the pair-bond signature is insufficient to confirm a valid claim."

Keth made a sound.

Low. Rough. Not quite a word, but I felt it in my chest from across the chamber.

"That is not possible," he said. His voice was controlled, but barely. "The bond is real. You can smell it on her. You must be able to smell it."

"The assessors have rendered their judgment," the central panel member said. "The pair-bond signature reads as weak. The challenge will proceed to the appeal window."

"No." Keth stepped forward, past the boundary line. "No. Something is wrong. The reading is – something is interfering. Vorreth, what did you do?"

Vorreth didn't so much as blink. Calm. Satisfied.

"I did nothing," he said smoothly. "The assessment process is impartial. Perhaps your claim was simply not as strong as you believed."

I saw it happen.

The moment the control shattered. The moment Keth stopped being the careful, gentle male who asked before he touched and became something else entirely.

His roar shook the chamber.

It wasn't a sound – it was a force, a physical wall of fury that made the observers in the tiered seating flinch backwards. His body seemed to expand, every muscle coiling, his horns lowered in a posture I'd never seen from him. His tail lashed in wild arcs, and when he moved, it was with a speed that made the air crack.

He charged Vorreth.

Officials moved to intercept, but he threw them aside. One went sprawling into the tiered seating. Another hit the ground hard enough to crack the stone. He was enormous, and he was furious, and nothing in this chamber was strong enough to stop him.

He got within feet of Vorreth before more officials managed to grab him.

It took three of them. Three Khorreth nearly his size, grappling him from behind, wrapping arms around his chest and shoulders and trying to drag him back. He fought them. Stars, he fought them – thrashing, roaring, his hooves scraping furrows in the stone floor as they hauled him backwards.

"Let me GO!” His voice was barely recognisable, stripped of everything except rage. "He CHEATED, you can smell it if you TRY, he did something to mask the bond–"

"Remove him," the central panel member said. His voice was calm, but I could smell fear on the officials around me. They were afraid of Keth. All of them. "The assessment stands. The appeal window begins now."

They dragged him towards the door.