The training arena lay open to the cold mountain sky, its stone floor dusted with a fine layer of frost. Rows of disciples stood at attention, their breath misting in the air. At the far end, the Elders and Sect Master observed from the raised platform.
Lan Xiyue strode into the arena, the edge of his indigo robe whispering over the frost. Ruo Han followed a step behind, still in his plain gray robe, blending into the crowd — or trying to. The morning's sparring demonstration was supposed to be routine, but Lan Xiyue had insisted he attend.
"I want you to see how Azure Cloud Sect fights," he'd said. But his eyes had carried another meaning entirely: Stay where I can see you.
The first few bouts passed without incident. Steel rang against steel, qi flared and faded. Then Elder Qian's voice cut through the air:
"Sect Master's son — perhaps you would honor us with a demonstration against Scarlet Sun's heir."
The words made Ruo Han's pulse spike. Feng Lian was already stepping forward, his crimson-gold robes flaring in the wind, his smile a slow blade.
Lan Xiyue inclined his head, drawing his sword in a single smooth motion. The match began.
Storm met flame. Lan Xiyue's strikes were sharp and precise, each one met by Feng Lian's aggressive, heat-laced counters. Sparks flared where their blades met, the air between them bending under the pressure of colliding qi.
From the sidelines, Ruo Han's chest tightened. Each surge of Lan Xiyue's aura pulled at the bond between them, tugging like an invisible thread. His breath came faster, heat curling low in his body. He clenched his fists, willing himself to stay still.
Then Feng Lian's qi spiked — hot, suffocating — and his blade slid dangerously close to Lan Xiyue's ribs.
Something inside Ruo Han snapped.
Without thinking, he stepped forward, his own qi flaring in a sudden burst. Rain and honey swept through the arena, wrapping around Lan Xiyue's storm scent in a way no one could mistake. The bond surged — visible, tangible — a wave of intertwined qi that rushed outward and sent a shiver through the assembled disciples.
Everything froze.
Lan Xiyue had already disarmed Feng Lian, his blade at the other alpha's throat, but his eyes were fixed on Ruo Han. The realization was in them, unspoken but undeniable: the entire arena had just felt it.
The Elders were murmuring. Elder Qian's gaze was sharp as a hawk's, his voice cutting through the cold.
"Lan Xiyue… explain this."
Lan Xiyue didn't lower his sword. His eyes stayed on Ruo Han — the omega who had just bound himself to him in front of the Sect.
"There is nothing to explain," he said at last, his voice steady. "He is under my protection."
The Sect Master's expression was unreadable.
"Protection is one thing. A Heaven's Vein bond is another."
A murmur swept through the disciples. Feng Lian's smile had returned — thin and dangerous.
Ruo Han felt the weight of every gaze on him, but it was the quiet pressure of Lan Xiyue's scent beside him that kept him standing.
He realized then that whatever happened next… their fates were no longer separate.