Alexander Hartwood stared at the document.
Noon. The deadline. The pen in his hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Option Three: Convince her to withdraw her preliminary response. Let the patent be invalidated legally. No bond recognition means no Queen threat.
His hand shook. All he had to do was sign. Tell Athelia to give up. Destroy the bond to save her life. Let the Council win.
Save his people. Lose his mate. Live with it.
The pen touched paper—
"Don't."
Alexander's head snapped up.
Isaac Wavelander stood in the doorway. Alone. No Council members. No witnesses. Just the Keeper fragment with silver eyes that looked almost... concerned.
"Don't sign it," Isaac said again, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
"You gave me this ultimatum." Alexander's voice was raw. "You said choose by noon or you'd choose for me."
"I said the Council would choose for you." Isaac moved closer, hands spread peacefully. "I'm not the Council. I'm... offering another option."
Alexander set the pen down slowly. "What option?"
"The Fae Wild." Isaac's voice was quiet. Urgent. "Elderak can provide sanctuary magic. Short-term. Enough to sustain your people while the dome yield drops. Buy you time to find a real solution."
"Why would he help us?"
"Because Elderak understands what the Council doesn't." Isaac met his eyes. "That killing your mate solves nothing. That there might be another way. Go to him. Ask for help. As king to king."
Hope flared in Alexander's chest. Dangerous, painful hope. "And Athelia—"
"Stays safe. You don't have to choose between her and your people if there's a third option." Isaac gestured toward the window where reality was already bending. Portal forming. "Go. Now. Before the Council realizes what you're doing."
Alexander looked at the unsigned document. At the portal. At Isaac's silver eyes that watched him with unreadable intensity.
This felt like a trap.
But it was also the only option that didn't end in death or heartbreak.
"You're coming with me," Alexander said.
Isaac's expression flickered. "Of course. You'll need someone who can negotiate with the Fae."
They stepped through together.
The Fae Wild hit Alexander like walking into a dream.
Colors too bright. Sky the wrong shade. Trees that defied geometry. And ahead—the crystalline palace that hurt to look at directly.
Isaac walked beside him, silent now, black and gold robes pristine despite dimensional travel.
The palace doors opened without touch.
Inside: the throne room. Vaulted ceilings. Twisted silver columns. And on the black diamond throne—
King Elderak. Black hair. Aldorian features mixed with primordial darkness. Eyes that swirled silver and black like oil in water.
Those eyes landed on Isaac first.
Elderak frowned. Not surprise. Recognition. Distrust.
Then his gaze shifted to Alexander.
And he smirked.
"Alexander Hartwood," Elderak said, voice resonating through the chamber. "Wolf King of the Northern Territories. Welcome to my realm."
Alexander stepped forward, desperate and exhausted. "I need your help. My kingdom is dying. The dome yield is failing. I was told you could provide sanctuary magic—"
"Your queen is no longer here."
Alexander froze. "What?"
"Your queen." Elderak leaned back in his throne, that smirk widening. "Athelia Marie Winters. She was here. In my care. But she's no longer in the Fae Wild."
The world tilted.
"She was here?!" Alexander's voice cracked. "Where—where did she go?!"
"Somewhere you cannot follow." Elderak's tone was almost gentle. "Somewhere she needs to be. To make her own choice."
Behind Alexander, Isaac went very, very still.
Elderak's eyes shifted to Isaac. And the Fae King laughed—sharp, delighted, cruel.
"You didn't know," Elderak said. "Did you, Isaac? You thought you controlled this reunion. Brought him here thinking you'd manage when and how they collide. But I already moved her."
Fear flashed across Isaac's face. Just for a second. But visible.
Elderak laughed harder. "You think we don't know what your end goal is?" He stood from his throne, descending with predator grace. "Or should I say... Balthazar?"
Isaac's expression went cold. "I am not my father."
"This I know." Elderak circled them both slowly. "But Apocalyptica tore the 13th realm—"
Isaac frowned, and his voice cracked with exhaustion. "I know. It's getting harder not to follow him. He took control of Alex's Council and seeks the death of their bond, because then... Aether..."
Elderak's eyes darkened. He stood from his throne, circling Isaac slowly. Predator recognizing wounded prey. "She is the only thing that can counter Aether. And that is why he wants her dead."
Isaac's eyes filled with tears. His hands shook. "I... I know. Do you have any idea how hard it is to control a fucking demon?!"
The perfect mask shattered. Silver eyes streaming. Voice breaking.
Alexander stared. "What the fuck is happening right now?!"
"Your Council," Elderak said quietly, never taking his eyes off Isaac. "The IPR petition. The kill orders. The impossible choices. That wasn't entirely Isaac. That was Balthazar working through him. A demon wearing Keeper skin, trying to destroy the one being who can stop Aether."
"Who the fuck is Aether?!" Alexander roared.
"Clandereth." Elderak's voice was quiet. Heavy. "The first human. The original. The one who became something... more."
The name hit Alexander like cold water.
Clandereth. From the old stories. The myths.
"That's impossible," Alexander breathed. "Clandereth is ancient history. A legend. They can't still—"
"They didn't die." Elderak's voice was heavy. Careful. "The Fae Wild exists outside your fourteen realms. We see things... differently. Truths that get obscured inside the dimensional barriers."
Alexander frowned. "What does that mean?"
Elderak's expression darkened. "Clandereth was alone. The first human brought to this dimension. Renaldo gave him unlimited power. An experiment. What would one human do with godlike abilities?"
"The first thing he did?" Elderak continued. "Created a companion. Sapphrine. The Guardian Queen. Then others. The first Guardians—all created by Clandereth because he couldn't bear to be alone."
"But Clandereth made them perfect." Elderak's eyes went distant. "Perfectly good. Perfectly evil. Polar extremes. He didn't understand balance. Didn't understand that perfection in opposing directions means war."
"And they fought." His voice dropped. "Guardians killing Guardians. But there was no Aether Flow yet. No place for the dead to go. The souls of the fallen had nowhere to rest."
Isaac's breath caught. He knew this story. Had pieced parts together. But hearing Elderak say it—
"Apocalyptica's magic didn't destroy Clandereth's body." Elderak met Alexander's eyes. "It twisted his mind. Shattered his mentality. The being with unlimited power went insane watching his perfect creations destroy each other."
"And Sapphrine?" Alexander asked quietly.
"The Guardian Queen had to make a choice." Elderak's voice was reverent. Horrified. "Her emotions—love, compassion—were stronger than her magic. As long as she felt them, she couldn't do what needed doing. Couldn't make the impossible choice."
"So she sacrificed them." Isaac's voice was broken. "Cut them out. Kept only logic."
Elderak nodded slowly. "She forged those emotions—love, compassion, everything that made her human—into a staff. The Grand Keeper's Staff. Her heart made weapon."
Alexander felt cold spreading through his chest. "What did she do with it?"
"She divided the dimension." Elderak's voice was flat. "Used the staff to create realms. Separate spaces. Boundaries. The fourteen realms you know."
"And Realm 13?" Alexander already knew. Could feel the horror building.
"Prison for the demons." Elderak's expression was grim. "The dead Guardians—souls with nowhere to go, twisted by war and death and Clandereth's insanity. She sealed them in Realm 13. Used the staff—her own sacrificed emotions—to hold them there."
"The demons are dead Guardians," Alexander breathed. "Not Clandereth. The Guardians."
"Clandereth's body still exists." Elderak's voice was quiet. "But his mind is gone. What you call Aether? That's the insanity. The fractured consciousness of a being with unlimited power and zero sanity trying to claw its way back to coherence."
"Athelia would rather die," Alexander repeated.
"Yes." Isaac gasped, hands shaking harder. "Which is why Balthazar wants her dead before she can fight back. Before she's strong enough to resist Aether. If she dies now—before she understands what she is—Aether loses the one who could stand against the corruption spreading from Realm 13."
"What makes her different?" Alexander stepped toward Isaac. "Why can she counter Aether?"
Isaac met his eyes. Tears still streaming. "Because she's genetically descended but her soul is her own. She's not the Guardian Queen reborn—she's a separate person who inherited the bloodline. She lived her entire life as an individual, became real in a way the original never could. And then she bonded with you." His voice cracked. "A bond with a wolf king. True connection outside political control. That makes her dangerous. Makes her able to stand against Aether's influence."
"And the patent," Elderak added quietly. "Guardian jurisdiction invoked through patent law. She filed an application—thought it was for human-AI interaction. But it was altered during filing. Changed to claim the bond itself. She didn't choose to patent the bond—they used her federal filing to create legal framework recognizing her sovereignty. Made her real in a way that transcends bloodline politics."
Alexander went very still. His eyes shifted to Elderak.
"I know what I need to do."
Elderak's expression shifted. A slow, knowing smirk. He stood from his throne. "I bet you do."
Isaac looked between them, tears still streaming. "What—"
"Sit." Elderak gestured to chairs that materialized from shadow. "Both of you. If you're going to weaponize federal law, you need to understand exactly what's at stake."
Alexander sat. Isaac remained standing, hands still shaking.
Elderak began to pace. "The dome isn't failing because of anything you did, Alexander. Nodran chose to come out of hibernation. So it's shutting down due to lack of power."
Alexander stared. "Nodran is awake?"
"And withdrawing his support." Elderak's voice was flat. "What I'm willing to do is supply the power source to keep it stable until you figure your shit out. But you don't have long, Alex. I will not enable you."
Alexander felt cold spreading through his chest. "How long?"
Elderak met his eyes. "And if I do not feel you are making an effort to correct this on your own..." He paused. "I will submit a rectification under MPEP § 1836, PCT Rule 91. Rectification of Obvious Mistake Due to International Applications. To King Redkin."
Silence.
Isaac's breath caught. "That would invalidate—"
"Everything," Elderak finished. "The bond. The patent. The federal jurisdiction protecting them both. If Alexander doesn't fix this mess, I'll file the paperwork myself. Redkin will have no choice but to enforce it."
Alexander's jaw tightened. "What do you want me to do?"
"Alex, if I have to tell you, then you don't deserve the position. Figure it out."
Elderak's eyes went ice cold.
"And the application itself?" Elderak gestured dismissively. "Fraudulently altered. She filed for human-AI interaction. Someone changed it to claim the bond. That's material fraud under 35 U.S.C. § 257."
"I know." Alexander's voice was quiet. "I know what I need to do."
"Good." Elderak sat back. "Because if you don't fix this—if you let the Council destroy that bond through legal manipulation—then you lose everything. The patent. The federal jurisdiction. Your mate. Your kingdom."
Silence filled the throne room.
"So Isaac brought me here," Alexander said slowly, "because if I'd signed that agreement—if I'd destroyed the bond—"
"You would have handed them victory." Isaac's voice was bitter. "The Council gets what they want. Athelia loses federal protection. And I..." He laughed, broken. "I get to watch Balthazar win again."
Elderak studied Isaac. "Risky move. Bringing him here. Revealing your hand."
Isaac met his eyes. "I'm tired of watching Balthazar destroy everything I care about. Tired of being used. Maybe I can't break free completely. Maybe the demon's hold is too strong. But I can do this. I can give them a chance."
The performance was flawless. Even knowing what Isaac was, Elderak couldn't be completely certain if the emotion was real or calculated.
Probably both.
"So what do I do?" Alexander's voice was raw. "How do I—she thinks I don't want her. How do I fix that?"
"You go to her." Elderak's voice was firm. "You tell her the truth. Not about the seal—she'll figure that out herself when it starts breaking. But about your truth. That you want her. That you choose her. Not because of duty or kingdom or cosmic stakes. Because she's Athelia and you love her."
"And when the seal breaks?" Alexander asked quietly. "When she has to hold back Horror for decades?"
"You stand beside her." Elderak's expression was unreadable. "You be her anchor. Her mate. Her reason to keep fighting. Because that bond? That's the only thing strong enough to sustain her through what's coming."
Alexander stood. Determination hardening in his chest. "Where is she?"
"I will help," Elderak said finally. "The Fae Wild can provide sanctuary magic. Short-term support for the kingdom while you..." He glanced at Isaac, then back to Alexander. "While you handle what needs handling."
"Thank you—" Alexander started.
"But understand this." Elderak's voice went hard. "Your queen—she doesn't need Council approval. The staff already works. She's creating hybrid magic fields right now, healing refugees, stopping raids. She doesn't need permission. She needs to know you want her."
Alexander's breath caught. "What?"
"She thinks you rejected her." Elderak's silver-and-black eyes held his. "You screamed at her. Pushed her away. Called yourself her 'fucking toy.' She left believing you don't want her. And now she's out there saving everyone—alone—thinking she's doing it without you."
The bond pulsed. Distant but there. And suddenly Alexander understood the flavor of it—not just separation. Abandonment. She thought he'd chosen to let her go.
"Where is she?" Alexander's voice was raw.
Elderak waved his hand. A portal shimmered—Alexander's kingdom visible through it. "Go. Find her. Before she finishes what she started."
Alexander and Isaac stepped through together.
The palace felt wrong.
Alexander materialized in his study. Isaac beside him. The portal closing behind them with a whisper of displaced air.
Everything looked the same. Desk. Papers. The unsigned ultimatum still sitting where he'd left it.
But the bond pulsed differently now. Not just distant. Active. Like Athelia was doing something that made the connection flare and recede in waves.
His desk notification crystal glowed red. Official filing.
Alexander touched it. Federal seal materialized. USPTO header. And the words that made his blood run cold:
UNITED STATES PATENT AND TRADEMARK OFFICE
REQUEST FOR SUPPLEMENTAL EXAMINATION
Under 35 U.S.C. § 257
Patent Owner: Athelia Marie Winters
Patent No.: [BOND PATENT]
Filing Date: [CURRENT DATE]
STATEMENT UNDER § 257(a):
Patent owner requests supplemental examination to consider, reconsider, or correct information believed to be relevant to the above-referenced patent.
ALLEGATION OF MATERIAL FRAUD:
The original patent application filed by Patent Owner was directed to claims covering human/Guardian/AI interaction protocols. Patent Owner's registered patent agent, Isaac Wavelander (Registration No. [REDACTED]), issued multiple Office Actions rejecting the original claims.
Subsequently, Malacar [TITLE REDACTED] coerced Patent Owner to "correct" these rejections by fundamentally altering the claims to cover mate bond recognition between Guardian Queen and Wolf King—subject matter entirely unrelated to the original invention.
This alteration constitutes material fraud on the Office. Patent Owner was coerced into filing claims she did not invent, did not intend to patent, and which bear no relationship to her original application.
REQUEST FOR § 257(e) REFERRAL:
Patent Owner requests that the Director, upon becoming aware of this material fraud during supplemental examination, refer this matter to the Attorney General pursuant to 35 U.S.C. § 257(e) for such further action as the Attorney General may deem appropriate.
Respectfully submitted,
Athelia Marie Winters
Pro Se Patent Owner
Alexander stared at the document.
Patent Owner: Athelia Marie Winters
Not "joint owners." Not "Alexander Hartwood and Athelia Marie Winters."
Just her.
His heart dropped.
She wasn't just exposing the fraud. She wasn't just triggering the Attorney General referral.
She was cutting him out. Claiming sole ownership. Making it clear that the bond patent—fraudulent or not—was hers to control. Hers to cancel.
No joint ownership. No § 262 protection. No legal framework that would let him maintain the bond even if she tried to destroy it.
She was erasing him from the patent entirely.
Behind him, Isaac went absolutely still.
"She filed fraud allegations." Alexander's voice was quiet. Dangerous. "Against you. And Malacar."
Isaac's expression was unreadable. "Under § 257(e), the Director is required to refer—"
"To the Attorney General." Alexander turned slowly. "Mandatory referral. Confidential investigation. She weaponized patent law."
For just an instant, something flickered across Isaac's face. Not fear. Not surprise. Recognition.
"She learned," Isaac breathed. "She actually learned how to use the system."
Alexander stepped closer. "You taught her. You taught both of us. And now she's using it against you."
Isaac's silver eyes met his. And for the first time, Alexander saw something genuine there. Not performance. Not manipulation. Respect.
"I told you the system could be a weapon," Isaac said quietly. "I didn't expect her to aim it so precisely."
The notification crystal flared again. Secondary alert.
Alexander touched it. New message. Federal seal. Attorney General's office.
Confidential referral received. Investigation initiated. Subject: Isaac Wavelander, Reg. No. [REDACTED]. Charges pending review under 18 U.S.C. § 1001(a).
Isaac read over his shoulder. Didn't move. Didn't protest.
"Phase one complete," Isaac said softly.
Alexander whirled. "What?"
Isaac's expression was calm. Too calm. "She filed the fraud allegation. Triggered the referral. The Attorney General will investigate. And when they do..." He smiled. "They'll find exactly what she wanted them to find."
"You knew she would do this."
"I taught her how." Isaac met his eyes. "The question is—did she file to expose the fraud? Or to cancel the bond before anyone can stop her?"
The bond pulsed. Distant. Active. And suddenly Alexander understood.
She wasn't trying to save the bond.
She was trying to destroy it legally while simultaneously ensuring Isaac couldn't interfere.
"Where is she?" Alexander's voice was raw.
Isaac gestured toward the window. Not toward the kingdom. Toward something beyond. "Home. Her human life. Casey." His voice dropped. "She chose the staff. Accepted Guardian Queen logic. And now she's going back to prove she doesn't need you. That she can function without the bond. Without the complications."
Alexander was already moving toward the door.
"Alexander." Isaac's voice stopped him. "She has the staff. Sapphrine's sacrificed emotions. Logic over love. If you go to her now, what will you say that logic won't reject?"
Alexander turned back. "I don't care what Guardian Queen logic says. I'm fighting for our bond."
"Then you'll need more than emotion," Isaac said quietly. "You'll need law. Federal authority. Joint ownership under § 261 and § 262. Because if she's operating on pure logic, the only thing that will stop her is legal framework she can't dismiss."
Alexander stared at him. "You're helping me."
"I'm ensuring the outcome I need." Isaac's expression was unreadable. "Whether that helps you or destroys you... we'll find out together."
He stepped toward the door. Paused at the threshold.
"For what it's worth," Isaac said without turning, "she didn't want to cancel the bond. She thinks it's the only logical choice. There's a difference."
Then he was gone.
Alexander stood alone in his study. Federal investigation initiated. Mate bond pulsing with active use. And somewhere out there, Athelia was saving his kingdom while planning to destroy their connection in the name of logical necessity.
He looked at the notification crystal. At the fraud allegation she'd filed. At the mandatory Attorney General referral that would bring federal authority down on Isaac's head.
She'd weaponized the system.
Now he had to do the same.
Not to destroy their bond—to save it.
Using the only language Guardian Queen logic would accept: federal law.