Three days later, Ava Sterling emerged from her training room, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.
She had just broken through to Rank 4.
She practically floated to her quarters, took a quick, refreshing shower, and threw on a clean set of clothes.
Her Gravicar was waiting.
The timing was impeccable.
The moment her breakthrough solidified, her lightcore buzzed with an alert.
‘System Notice: Ava Sterling. You have reached the age of twenty-three. Report to the Royal Consulate of Matches in New Aurora before 1700 hours for mandatory mate matching. Failure to comply will result in an automatic fine of 10,000 star credits, deducted from your account.’
Ava smirked.
Perfect.
She’d leveled up first, and now she could deal with this birthday formality. Losing ten thousand credits? Not happening.
Ten minutes later, her Gravicar hummed to a stop outside the imposing Consulate building.
She stored the vehicle in her dedicated band, smoothed her jacket, and strode inside.
She maintained three storage bands: one for beast materials, one for valuables, and one solely for her Gravicar. Organization was key.
A staff member greeted her immediately. “Ava Sterling. Identity and rank verified. We require a blood sample for the registry. Please place your finger here.”
They presented a sleek, silver scanner.
Ava pressed her index finger against the cool surface. A soft light pulsed for three seconds. It was done—painless, without even a pinprick.
“Congratulations, Ms. Sterling,” the staffer stated. “You are now registered as a Rank 4 Etherian. The Beastmate System will assign you nine potential mates. Their ranks will typically range from 5 to 7. In rare instances, matches of Rank 8, 9, or even 10 are possible. Do you understand?”
Ava’s eyes widened. “Rank 10? Is that… realistic?”
The staffer offered a practiced, polite smile. “It is rare, but it has happened.”
Her heart gave a sudden, hard thump.
Higher rank usually meant more power, more prestige… and, let’s be honest, probably more attractive. That part she liked.
But a sliver of worry crept in.
“What if… what if I can’t provide adequate mental comfort to a male that powerful?” she asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern.
“There is no need for alarm,” the staffer explained calmly. “The system incorporates a three-month adjustment period for all matches. If either party is unsatisfied, a dissolution can be filed. The process is designed for mutual compatibility.”
Ava’s lips twitched.
A three-month trial with an exit clause? How… civilized.
She’d been so consumed with hunting, extracting cores, and surviving that she’d never bothered to read the Empire’s official courtship protocols.
She nodded. “Understood.”
The staffer continued. “Should the bond be successfully confirmed after three months, you will receive the Beast God’s Blessing. This includes a direct transfer of one million star credits to your account, along with legal access to your mate’s assets.”
Ava’s breath caught.
Hold on.
If even one of them was wealthy… she’d be set for life overnight.
She schooled her features into a mask of calm indifference. “I see.”
“Furthermore,” the staffer added, “once the bond is sealed, you will hold primary authority within the partnership. Your mates will depend on your mental comfort for stability and draw strength from your support for their own advancement.
“In return, they are bound by oath to remain loyal and assist you in ascending the ranks. Should they betray this oath, you need only break their beast mark. The Beast God will enact the punishment.”
Ava nodded again. She knew the basics, but this was clearly part of the official script.
The staffer’s smile returned. “We are processing your matches now. The results will be delivered to your lightcore within five minutes. All suitors assigned by the system have cleared rigorous background checks. For the initial three months, you and your matches will only have access to each other’s names, ages, and contact information. Full profiles unlock upon bond confirmation.”
Ava almost laughed.
So that’s it? No occupations, no histories, no wealth indicators—just a name and a number.
It felt like opening a series of locked chests. Risky, but undeniably thrilling.
Ding.
Her lightcore chimed. She flipped it open.
New Message: Ava Sterling. Your nine matches have been successfully assigned. Their contact information has been added to your directory.
She huffed a quiet laugh. So the system just sent them all friend requests?
Until now, her contact list had been pitifully short: four merchants for buying gear and selling cores, and one neighbor, Sophia Bennett, who was a decade older and loved to boast about her twelve partners.
Nine new names populated her screen, one after another, each accompanied by a generic, gray silhouette.
Ava squinted. Seriously? Not even a profile picture? This was beyond a mystery box; it was a blind date on a galactic scale.
She settled into a lounge chair and pulled up the list.
Julian Hawthorne, twenty-eight.
Nathaniel Reed, thirty-two.
Sebastian Thorne, thirty-one.
Adrian Cross, twenty-nine.
Gabriel Frost, twenty-nine.
Dominic Gray, twenty-six.
Elias Blackwood, thirty.
Vincent Hale, thirty-three.
Alexander Vance, thirty-five.
That was all. Names, ages, and lightcore IDs.
Her gaze lingered on the last entry: Alexander Vance. Thirty-five. Twelve years her senior. But with Etherian lifespans stretching past a century, the gap was negligible.
According to the staffer, these nine males would make contact, one by one, over the next three months. She could wait for them to reach out, or she could initiate the conversations herself.
Meanwhile, at the Skyward Medical Center, Elias Blackwood sat rigidly in his hospital bed.
His golden eyes burned with impatience as his assistant, Benjamin Carter, entered the room.
“Well?” Elias’s voice was sharp. “Did you find her?”
Benjamin shook his head, his expression apologetic. “Mr. Blackwood, New Aurora is massive. It houses over twenty billion therians. While Rank 3 females are uncommon, there are still thousands. Without a name or an ID number, finding one specific person in a day is… nearly impossible.”
Since waking that morning, Elias had been obsessed with one task: finding the female who had dragged him out of the Veridian Woods three days prior.
He rubbed his temples, frustration a dull ache behind his eyes.
Why hadn’t he asked for her name? Why hadn’t he gotten her lightcore ID?
Three damn days, and her image was seared into his mind. That small, fierce frame, moving without fear, dismantling a beast like it was nothing. And that scent… it haunted him. It clung to his senses, a sweet, maddening poison he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—purge.
He had to find her. He needed to know if she already had a mate. If she did… he’d take any role she offered. Follower, shadow, guardian. Anything.
“Keep looking,” Elias ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You must find her.”
In their society, females could accept followers. If a follower swore a blood oath and served faithfully for five years, he could petition to become a mate. Five years was a blink in an Etherian’s lifespan.
Elias would wait fifty if he had to.
Ding.
His lightcore chimed. He glanced down, his brow furrowing at the notification.
‘System Alert: Elias Blackwood. The Beastmate System has matched you with a female Etherian at 16:35 today. Her information has been sent to your lightcore. You are required to make contact within three months. Failure will result in a fine of five million star credits and a one-hundred-year ban from the matching system. Voluntary dissolution carries the same penalties.’
Elias’s jaw tightened. “Of all the times…”
“Mr. Blackwood? What is it?” Benjamin asked, his stormy eyes widening. Internally, he winced. First, he’s ambushed and dropped to Rank 4. Now the system forces a match on him. The humiliation must be unbearable.
“The system matched me,” Elias muttered, his voice low and displeased.
He opened the file. His golden eyes scanned the text, their intensity flickering.
Ava Sterling. 23. Rank 4 female Etherian.
The name meant nothing. He didn’t care who she was. The only female he wanted was the one from the woods.
Therians were simple in matters of the heart. Once they fixated on someone, that was it. There were no substitutes, no backups. Not even death could truly sever the connection.
Benjamin’s face shifted from surprise to a cautious optimism. “This could be beneficial, sir. You’re injured, and your mental energy is in disarray. The mental comfort from a bonded mate would accelerate your healing significantly.”
“I have already chosen who I want,” Elias replied, his tone icy. His decision was absolute. He forwarded Ava’s contact information to Benjamin. “Find her. Go to her. Ask her what she requires to dissolve this match immediately.”