Starlit Throne - Chapter 4: The Bond
English Version
Rating: M/E
Genres: Romantasy | Sci-Fi | Slow Burn | Space Opera | Fated Mates
Summary:
Cassia Harper thought her biggest struggles were making rent, keeping up with Brighton’s fashion scene, and selling enough handmade crafts to help her family. But when a mysterious, brooding soldier-for-hire with pointed ears crashes into her life, everything changes.
Her past isn’t what she thought. The father she barely remembers wasn’t just some distant traveler and the pin she wears every day? Not just an antique!
Now, with assassins on her trail and a protector who refuses to claim her (even though the tension between them is scorching), Cassia has to decide: will she run from her destiny or rise to it?
Expect:
🔥 Slow-burn with intense tension (and several many very hot payoffs 😏)
🐺 Cosmic pointed-eared protector (who knows she’s his mate but refuses to act on it... at first)
👑 Galactic politics
🌌 A space opera filled with action, smut & drama
🛸 Brighton, UK meets the stars
I had followed orders my entire life.
Until now.
The mission was clear: retrieve the target, extract a blood sample, send it to my employer, and keep the target sedated until further instructions.
Simple. Efficient.
Then she crashed into me.
Small but solid, her scent wrapped around me like a vice. My muscles locked as the shock nearly took me to my knees. Impossible. My kind had no mates. I was engineered that way, wasn’t I? I had accepted that long ago, buried the instinct deep where it couldn’t fester.
Yet, as she struggled in my grip, the bond slammed into me like a collapsing star.
My mate. Mine.
I couldn’t be.
She stared at my ears for a brief second—then screamed.
Her voice rang sharp, panic lacing her scent. She didn’t know. She couldn’t. The bond was only apparent to me. But instincts older than reason surged up, drowning everything else. My orders. My employer. The entire damn universe.
The only thing that mattered now was keeping her safe.
“Let go of me!” She yanked against my grip, but I held firm, grounding myself against the rush of pure, consuming need.
Protect.
“Stay quiet,” I murmured, my voice lower than intended, a rasp edged with urgency. “They’re coming.”
Footsteps. Fast. Precise.
I turned, placing my body between her and the approaching figures.
Three hunters. Trained. Armed. Moving like ghosts against the sand.
She hesitated, her fists curling at her sides. "Who the hell are you?"
I didn’t answer. Instead, I stepped forward, instinct pushing me to stand between her and the threat.
“Stay behind me.”
Her heartbeat stuttered. I felt it as though it were my own.
Then they attacked.
One moved first, lunging fast, a blade slicing toward my ribs—too slow.
I twisted, catching the attacker’s wrist and breaking it in one sharp motion. A sickening crack. The figure crumpled, gasping in pain.
Another was already coming. I moved before they could land a hit. I pivoted, my boot striking center mass, sending the second attacker flying into the sand.
One left.
The last hunter hesitated. Smart. They knew what I was. Knew this wouldn’t be a fair fight.
“You should leave,” I warned, my voice calm despite the heat thrumming in my blood.
The hunter didn’t. He feinted left before going for my blind spot. Almost.
Pain sliced through my side.
I snarled, whirling around before they could pull away. My hand caught their throat, lifting them clean off the ground before slamming them into the pebbles. The impact sent a shudder through the ground. The hunter stopped moving.
Silence.
I straightened, rolling my shoulders against the throbbing wound in my side. The scent of blood was sharp in the salt air, mixing with the natural musk of the sea. But it had started to heal already.
She was staring at me.
Wide-eyed. Breathless.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, voice rougher than intended.
She swallowed hard. “You—you’re bleeding.”
“It’s fine.” I took a step toward her. She hesitated but didn’t move away.
I clenched my jaw. She was afraid. Confused. But she didn’t run. She was listening.
But… why? She should be running. Shouldn’t she?
“We need to go,” I said. “It’s not safe here.”
She didn’t move immediately, but I could see her thinking, weighing my words. She wasn’t panicking anymore.
I’m the only one who can feel this. She’s human. Humans have no mates. I shouldn’t have a mate. I’m engineered…
“Where?” she asked, voice cautious but steady, taking me out of my conflicting thoughts.
I exhaled, feeling the tension in my muscles ease just slightly. “Somewhere safe. I’ll explain what I can, but we have to move.”
Another beat of hesitation. Then—a nod.
That nod hit me harder than it should have. She believed me.
We kept to the shadows as we left the beach, my mate glancing at me every few steps like she expected me to vanish.
My wound slowed me down, but I forced my body forward. There was no time for weakness.
“We need a car,” I muttered.
She stopped walking. “I’m sorry—what?”
“My ship is in a rock location… I think you call it Seven Sisters. We need to get there. Fast.”
She blinked at me. “Your what?”
I dragged a hand down my face. Right. She didn’t know anything yet.
“I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to move. The ship will be safe.”
Her arms crossed. “You mean after we steal a car?”
I arched a brow. “You’d rather wait for more of them to show up?”
She opened her mouth, then sighed. “Fine. But I’m picking the car.”
Something flickered in my chest. A feeling I didn’t know how to place. Something dangerous.
I ignored it.
“I’ll hotwire it,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes and gave me a long look but didn’t argue. Progress.
I ignored the pull in my chest, how my instincts screamed to pull her close and never let go.
I ignored everything except one simple, undeniable truth.
My life was no longer my own.
And for the first time in my existence, I didn’t care.
Glossary - Chapter 4
Vice – A strong grip or hold. (Agarre fuerte, presión firme.)
Festering – Becoming worse over time. (Empeorando con el tiempo, enconándose.)
Collapsing star – A metaphor for something powerful and overwhelming. (Metáfora de algo poderoso y abrumador.)
Feigned – Pretended or faked a movement. (Fingió un movimiento, engañó.)
Thrumming – A steady, deep, vibrating sound or sensation. (Sonido o sensación vibrante y constante.)
Snarled – Made a growling, aggressive sound. (Gruñó de manera agresiva.)
Shudder – A strong shiver or trembling motion. (Temblor fuerte o estremecimiento.)
Arched a brow – Raised an eyebrow, often in question or challenge. (Levantó una ceja, en señal de pregunta o desafío.)