It’s about legacy

Kael's laugh was warm, the sound sending a pang straight to Theron's chest. "Classic Theron. So, you discovering anything groundbreaking in fungus love lives?"

"Nothing world-shattering," Theron muttered, his gaze flicking to the Bondometer sitting on his desk like an accusation in metal and glass. "Although I've, uh… been testing out the device on other wolves, you know, to make sure it's working perfectly."

"The mate detector?" Kael's interest was instantly piqued. "How'd it do? I bet it worked flawlessly, right?"

Theron swallowed hard, the question making his throat feel tight. "Yeah. It works. Really well, actually. Too well, even." He hated how shaky the words felt in his mouth.

"That's awesome!" Kael said, his excitement so genuine it hurt. "When I'm back, we should totally mess with Aelric, Bronn, and Lirien. Imagine their reactions—priceless." His grin was practically audible. "But first, we've gotta use it to find my mate. I've been waiting forever for this."

Theron's heart twisted painfully at the word "mate," but Kael kept going, oblivious.

"Oh! Wait," Kael added, his tone brightening as if struck by sudden inspiration. "We've gotta test it on you too! You never know—maybe there's someone out there for you. And hey, wouldn't it be nice if your perfect match wasn't, you know, a gadget or one of your robots?"

Theron froze, his mind reeling as the words landed like a hammer blow. His stomach churned, his pulse roaring in his ears, but he managed a weak chuckle. "Ha, yeah. Maybe."

A wave of nausea washed over Theron. This was it, the perfect opportunity to gauge Kael's feelings, to see if there was even the faintest glimmer of hope. But the words caught in his throat. "I did some tests, yeah. But nothing... definitive."

"I bet it's going to be a useful device. We could use it to help some of the younger wolves who are struggling to find their mates." Kael's voice was casual, but Theron felt the weight of the world settle on his shoulders.

"Yeah, useful," Theron echoed, his voice barely above a whisper, his throat tight with tension. He fiddled with a loose thread on his sleeve, avoiding the accusing glare of the Bondometer on his desk. "Listen, Kael... I was wondering..." He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. "Hypothetically speaking, if someone's mate turned out to be... of the same sex, how do you think they'd react? Like you, for example. How would you react?"

The words left his mouth in a rush, his tone strained and shaky. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the answer that could shatter him.

On the other end of the line, there was a moment of silence—just long enough for Theron's mind to spiral into panic.

Finally, Kael spoke, his voice tinged with confusion. "You mean, like… a guy? Two guys being mates?" He paused again, as though turning the idea over in his head. "I mean, sure, I have friends who are gay, and I respect them completely. Love is love and all that, right? And there are wolves out there with same-sex mates; it's not uncommon or taboo or anything."

Theron exhaled softly, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest, but Kael wasn't done.

"But," Kael continued, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more serious, "it's… different for someone like me. For royalty, the mate bond isn't just about love or companionship. It's about legacy, about continuing the line. Our bonds are—how do I put this?—biologically designed to ensure we can create a family and carry on the royal bloodline. That's part of what makes the bond so sacred for us. A male mate… it would complicate things. It's not impossible, I guess, but it would be… difficult."

Theron's breath hitched, the faint flicker of hope extinguished as quickly as it had appeared.

"And, well…" Kael hesitated again, his voice softening, "I've always pictured my mate as a girl, you know? Someone I could fall in love with and have a family with naturally. That's just… how I've always seen it."

Theron's grip tightened on the phone, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He swallowed hard, willing his voice not to crack. "Yeah. That makes sense," he said, his tone carefully neutral, even as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

Kael hesitated, his voice taking on a more concerned tone. "Theron… is something going on? That's a weird question, even for you. You've been acting kind of… off. Did something happen?"

Theron's heart skipped a beat. He forced a laugh, though it felt hollow. "No, no. Just... you know me. Always thinking about random stuff. I saw a debate on mate bonds in a forum the other day and got curious."

Kael didn't sound convinced. "You sure? You sound… I don't know, tense. Like something's bothering you."

"I'm fine," Theron said quickly, the words tumbling out too fast. He bit his lip, trying to rein in the panic clawing at his chest. "Really. Just tired. Late nights in the lab, you know how it is."

Kael was quiet for a moment, and Theron could almost hear him frowning on the other end of the line. "If you say so," Kael said finally, though his tone was laced with doubt. "But you know you can talk to me, right? If something's wrong, I want to help."

Theron's chest ached at the sincerity in Kael's voice. He wanted nothing more than to tell him everything, to spill the truth and let the chips fall where they may. But Kael's earlier words echoed in his mind.

"It's about legacy, continuing the royal bloodline."

"I know," Theron said softly. "Thanks, Kael."

Kael's voice lightened, though there was still a trace of concern. "All right. But don't work yourself too hard, okay? You're not a machine, even if you like pretending you are."

Theron forced a chuckle. "Got it, Your Highness. I'll pencil in some sleep between experiments."

Kael laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Good. Take care, Theron. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," Theron murmured as the call ended. "See you soon."

Theron stared at the screen of his communicator long after the call ended, his hands trembling as he set it down. The silence in the room was suffocating, and Kael's words echoed relentlessly in his mind.

"It's about legacy, continuing the royal bloodline. A male mate… it'd complicate things."

His chest tightened, and the breath he had been holding finally escaped in a shaky exhale. He had kept it together for the duration of the call, forcing smiles and laughter that felt like jagged glass in his throat. But now, there was no one to hide from, no one to see how completely shattered he felt.

Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he buried his face in his hands. "Why?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Why did it have to be me?"

The first tear slid down his cheek, quickly followed by another, until the floodgates opened and he was sobbing uncontrollably. The weight of the secret, the impossibility of the situation, crushed him under its unbearable heaviness.

"I can't do this," he choked out, his shoulders shaking as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt. "I can't…"

Rex's soft voice interrupted the storm of his emotions. "Theron, your heart rate and stress levels are elevated. Should I activate a calming protocol?"

Theron shook his head violently, his words tumbling out in a broken rush. "No, Rex. Just… just let me be. I need… I need to feel this."

He slid down from his chair onto the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as the sobs wracked his body. Images of Kael filled his mind—his smile, his laugh, the way he always seemed to light up a room without even trying. And now, the way his voice had been so casual, so oblivious, as he unknowingly crushed Theron's heart.

"You're my best friend, Theron. My nerdy little genius."

Theron wiped at his face with trembling hands, but the tears wouldn't stop. He felt raw, exposed, like every part of him had been stripped bare and left to the elements.

"I'm not telling him," he whispered to the empty room, his voice hoarse. "He can't know. He deserves… he deserves someone perfect, someone who fits his world. Not me."

For a long time, he sat there on the floor, his tears eventually slowing to quiet sniffles. The room was still, save for the faint hum of Rex monitoring him in the background.

Finally, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt and took a shaky breath. His chest still ached, but the sobs had drained some of the tension from his body, leaving behind an exhausted emptiness.

"Rex," he said quietly, his voice rough.

"Yes, Theron?"

"Delete the mate bond logs from the device," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the Bondometer. "Erase everything."

Rex hesitated. "Are you certain? This data could—"

"Erase it," Theron repeated firmly, his voice trembling but resolute. "I don't want any trace of this left."

"As you wish," Rex replied, the Bondometer lighting up briefly before going dark.

Theron leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. The tears threatened to return, but he forced them down. He couldn't afford to break again.

"This is for the best," he whispered to himself, though the words felt hollow. "He can never know."