Ryven Voss had secretly taken eight pictures already.
Possibly nine.
He planned to deny every single one if questioned under Federation law.
The problem was—
Kael noticed by the third picture.
The upper Benton residential wing remained quieter than the rest of the estate below. Warm evening light spilled softly through enormous terrace windows overlooking the mountainside while distant music drifted upward from the lower gathering halls.
Somewhere beneath them—
Great House guests continued arriving.
Fleet officers.
Commanders.
Family.
But up here?
Everything felt calmer.
Private.
The suite itself carried the unmistakable feeling of someone actually lived inside it instead of merely owning it. Books lay stacked unevenly beside datapads across the center table while training jackets rested over chairs near the terrace doors. One side of the room contained engineering components Kael clearly forgot to put away months ago, and near the far bookshelf sat an old mechanical model partially dismantled beside handwritten notes covered in equations.
Nothing looked staged.
Nothing felt ceremonial.
Just home.
Kael stood near the mirror adjusting the silver-lined collar of his formal black Helius dress uniform while Ryven remained several steps behind him pretending very hard to review something important on his datapad.
Pretending.
Because the camera activated quietly again.
Click.
Kael's mouth twitched instantly.
Another picture.
The formal uniform looked unfair on him.
Dark tailored fabric traced sharp clean lines across broad shoulders and a narrow waist while silver academy detailing reflected softly beneath the warm lights. The high collar emphasized the elegant line of his throat while platinum white hair, still slightly damp from the shower, fell naturally across bright blue eyes that looked almost unreal against the black military jacket.
Ryven stared again.
Another picture.
Kael sighed dramatically without turning around.
"You know," he said casually, "normal people usually ask before collecting blackmail material."
Ryven remained perfectly calm.
"I don't know what you're referring to."
Kael slowly looked at him through the mirror.
"…Ryven."
"I'm documenting history."
"That sounded exactly like Commander Hale."
"I learned from professionals."
Kael laughed softly under his breath before finally turning around fully.
And unfortunately—
that made the situation worse.
Because now Ryven could see him properly.
No disguise.
No brown hair.
No contact lenses.
Just Kael standing beneath warm mountain lighting looking unfairly beautiful in ways Ryven genuinely did not have vocabulary for anymore.
His brain had stopped functioning normally somewhere around the shower.
Kael noticed the expression immediately.
Then smiled.
Small.
Warm.
Dangerous.
"Oh no," he murmured.
Ryven narrowed his eyes slightly.
"What."
"You're spiraling again."
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Kael walked closer while adjusting one sleeve casually.
"You get this tiny line right here." He pointed toward Ryven's forehead. "Like your brain is trying to survive emotional combat."
Ryven looked at him calmly.
"This is emotional combat."
That nearly killed Kael instantly.
He bent forward laughing while Ryven automatically steadied him with one hand against his waist.
Not dramatic.
Not possessive.
Just instinct now.
Kael eventually straightened again still smiling.
"You're being dramatic."
"You walked out of the bathroom looking like Federation propaganda."
"That's not a real sentence."
"It is now."
Kael snorted softly.
Then his expression gentled.
Really gentled.
His fingers lifted slowly toward his own hair, brushing lightly through pale strands still damp near the ends.
"I forgot what this felt like."
Ryven watched quietly.
Kael looked toward the mirror again afterward.
"No dye."
A pause.
"No contacts."
Another smaller pause followed.
"I spent so long making sure nobody saw me properly that I think part of me forgot this was still mine."
That landed harder than expected.
Because Ryven remembered all of it.
The concealment.
The pressure.
The careful control.
The years Kael survived inside Helius Prime carrying pieces of himself hidden simply because the Federation judged Omegas before understanding them.
Ryven stepped closer quietly.
Then reached up and brushed one hand gently through Kael's hair.
Soft.
Real.
Kael's eyes immediately lifted toward his.
"You keep staring at it."
"Yes."
"That sentence sounded emotionally loaded."
"It is."
Kael smiled again.
Not teasing this time.
Something softer.
Then suddenly—
"You know what's unfair?"
Ryven blinked once.
"What."
"You."
Kael pointed directly at him.
"You keep acting calm while looking like THAT."
Ryven stared.
"…what."
"The Voss genetics are criminal."
"That sounds medically inaccurate."
"You look like somebody designed military royalty in a laboratory."
Ryven remained completely composed externally.
Internally—
significantly less successful.
Kael noticed immediately.
"Oh my god."
Ryven looked suspicious now.
"What."
"You're flustered."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Kael grinned wider.
"RYVEN VOSS IS FLUSTERED."
"I'm leaving."
"You can't."
"Watch me."
Kael immediately grabbed the front of Ryven's uniform jacket before he could step away and laughed harder when Ryven stopped moving instantly.
"You're very easy to control actually."
Ryven looked down at him calmly.
"That is incorrect."
"You literally stopped walking."
"That was strategic."
"That was gay."
Ryven exhaled slowly through his nose.
Kael looked deeply pleased with himself.
Outside the suite, distant movement echoed faintly through the upper estate halls while Great House guests continued arriving below.
Inside the guest residences—
complete chaos continued unfolding.
Hana Sato had unofficially become commander of the operation.
"Everyone line up."
Immediate resistance followed.
"WHY?"
"Because half of you still look emotionally unstable."
"That feels targeted."
"It is."
The massive guest residence living area had transformed into organized disaster.
Formal jackets covered furniture.
Someone lost cufflinks again.
Valerie Walsh kept adjusting the silver academy pin near her collar every thirty seconds while Ophelia Vale watched her with visible exhaustion.
"You already fixed it."
"What if it moved?"
"It's pinned."
"…wealthy people notice things."
Camille Mercier looked up from one of the couches.
"That is not how money works."
"You don't KNOW that."
"I literally do."
Meanwhile the Miller twins continued aggressively helping people whether assistance was wanted or not.
"Torres your collar is crooked."
"YOUR FACE IS CROOKED."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"IT MADE SENSE EMOTIONALLY."
Little Bean stood nearby holding his stuffed shark while staring down at his formal shoes with visible concern.
"…what if I step wrong at dinner."
Ethan Walsh crouched slightly beside him immediately.
"You won't."
"But what if I accidentally insult someone important?"
Ethan smiled softly.
"Little Bean."
A pause.
"You apologized to Major Volkov once because you thought you breathed too loudly during briefing."
"That was respectful."
"That was adorable."
Little Bean looked deeply betrayed by that word choice.
Across the room, Chief Patrol Guard Elias Marrow waited calmly near the entrance with two Aurora security personnel standing behind him.
Professional.
Straight-backed.
Quietly patient.
The younger cadets naturally lowered their voices around them without even thinking about it.
Because respect remained instinctive around veteran officers.
Especially here.
Especially tonight.
Marrow's expression softened almost invisibly while watching the younger generation scramble around trying to look composed for dinner with half the Federation command structure.
"You have five minutes," he informed them calmly.
That somehow made everyone panic worse.
Torres pointed dramatically.
"THIS IS A MILITARY COUNTDOWN."
"It's dinner," Hana corrected.
"DINNER WITH SUPREME COMMANDERS."
"That's still dinner."
"That is emotionally incorrect."
Meanwhile—
back upstairs—
Kael fastened the final silver clasp at the front of his uniform.
Then stopped after noticing Ryven staring again.
Another picture.
Click.
Kael physically covered his face.
"Oh my god."
Ryven locked the datapad immediately.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You're terrible at espionage."
"I was top-ranked in reconnaissance rotations."
"And somehow worse at lying than Torres."
"That's impossible."
Kael laughed again before finally walking toward him properly.
Close enough now that Ryven could smell cedar soap, fresh fabric, and lingering warmth from the shower still clinging softly to his skin.
Kael's expression softened afterward.
"I'm never hiding again."
The teasing disappeared completely when he said it.
No jokes.
No performance.
Just truth.
Ryven reached up slowly and adjusted the edge of Kael's collar gently.
"Good."
Kael held his gaze quietly for another second.
Then smiled.
Bright enough to hurt people spiritually.
"You really think I look okay?"
Ryven stared at him.
Actually stared.
Then answered with complete sincerity.
"You look like the person Helius Prime spent four years trying to deserve."
Kael went completely still.
For one rare moment—
speechless.
Ryven immediately realized what he had just said and looked away slightly afterward like perhaps throwing himself off the terrace would now be easier emotionally.
Unfortunately Kael recovered fast.
Too fast.
"That," he whispered dramatically, "was disgustingly romantic."
Ryven looked tired instantly.
"You asked."
"I DIDN'T EXPECT YOU TO WIN."
A knock interrupted them before Ryven could recover properly.
Three measured taps against the suite door.
Professional.
Controlled.
Kael straightened automatically.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Chief Marrow stepped inside briefly before pausing respectfully near the entrance.
"Young Master Caleb."
Only Benton family staff still called him that.
The title settled differently here.
More personal than formal.
"The cadets are prepared for escort."
Kael nodded once.
"Thank you, Chief Marrow."
Marrow's eyes briefly shifted toward Ryven.
Then toward Kael again.
And for the smallest fraction of a second—
the older officer visibly softened seeing him standing openly as himself.
No disguise.
No hiding.
Just home.
"You look well tonight," Marrow said quietly.
Kael smiled gently.
"So do you, Chief."
The veteran officer gave one respectful nod before stepping aside toward the hall.
"Whenever you're ready."
The door slid closed again.
Silence lingered briefly afterward.
Then Kael looked toward Ryven one last time.
"Well."
A pause.
"Ready to survive dinner?"
Ryven considered the question seriously.
"No."
"That's fair."
Kael laughed softly.
Then reached over, took Ryven's hand briefly, and squeezed once before leading them both toward the door.
Down below—
the Benton Estate continued glowing warmly against the mountainside while Great House families, commanders, instructors, veterans, and cadets slowly gathered beneath one roof.
And for tonight—
at least for tonight—
they were allowed to simply be together.