Starlit Throne - Chapter 11: The Shadow Regent's Gambit
Second Version - English
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
Lights flashed like anxious comets, tracing harsh shadows across worried faces. The entire rebel command center trembled, and Cassia swore she could feel the whole galaxy quaking with it. Harsh emergency lighting bathed the room in an eerie glow as alarms shrieked from every corner, a discordant chorus matched by the chatter of frantic voices. Personnel darted from station to station, some gripping headsets, others with eyes glued to screens. Everyone moved with a desperate urgency that mirrored the chaos outside.
In the middle of it all stood Commander Lyra Voss, a pillar of controlled intensity. "Get those defenses back online!" she barked, her voice cutting through the tumult like a sharpened blade. Cassia and Dain flanked her, their faces stark in the flickering light as they crowded around a large holographic display. Pulsing red alerts dotted the projection, each one representing a different rebel stronghold under attack.
Cassia's heart raced as she watched the reports pour in, each more dire than the last. Stronghold Omega—critical damage. Outer Rim base—falling fast. Her eyes widened with horror, unable to tear away from the catastrophic display. It felt like watching an intricate piece of art, carefully crafted with her family and friends, being ruthlessly torn apart.
Dain loomed beside her, his posture tense and protective. He didn't say a word, but his eyes, shifting dangerously close to amber, revealed the struggle beneath his stoic exterior. "Inner defenses failing. Breach imminent," announced a voice from a console, adding to the mounting pressure in the room.
A rebel officer stumbled towards them, disbelief etched into his face. "He knew exactly where to hit us," he said, shaking his head. "Every base, every blind spot." The sheer precision of Lord Matthias's attacks had stunned them all, and the reality of their vulnerability settled like a lead weight over the entire operation.
Dain shifted his stance, moving even closer to Cassia as if to shield her from the destruction displayed in ghostly holographic light. She caught his glance, a flicker of shared understanding and fear, and felt a rush of gratitude for his silent support.
The command center shook again, more violently this time, and the deafening roar of distant explosions filtered through the chaos. "They're breaching the outer defenses!" a panicked voice shouted. The team's careful planning and fortifications, their last hope of withstanding an assault, seemed to crumble with each new impact. Cassia could almost feel the walls closing in around them, her sense of helplessness growing with every shuddering vibration.
Still, Lyra remained unflinching, determination etched into every line of her face. She jabbed a finger at the holographic display, issuing orders to the surrounding personnel. "Prioritize evacuations. I want those ships out before they hit the hangar." Her eyes blazed with the intensity of a commander who refused to admit defeat, even as the situation spiraled out of control.
The chaos continued to unfold, each second bringing more disastrous news. Alarms blared anew, fresh red alerts spreading across the holograph like a virulent plague. "Critical failure at Gamma outpost," someone called, their voice cracking. The display showed yet another base consumed by flashing indicators of doom.
Cassia felt numb, her mind struggling to keep pace with the unfolding catastrophe. She turned her gaze to the floor, unable to watch as one stronghold after another reported catastrophic damage. The room seemed to tilt, and for a moment, she felt as though she might collapse under the weight of it all. She gripped the edge of the console, her knuckles white against the harsh light.
Dain remained at her side, his unwavering presence a lifeline amidst the storm. His eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail, every movement, like a predator assessing both threats and escape routes. Despite the chaos, his focus never wavered from Cassia, an unspoken promise in the set of his jaw and the tension of his stance.
The command center vibrated with another impact, throwing sparks from overloaded circuits and drawing startled cries from those unprepared. The severity of the attack became undeniable as more reports of catastrophic damage came through. Cassia fought to keep her composure as the enormity of what they faced began to sink in. They were being systematically dismantled, and it seemed as though Matthias's forces wouldn't stop until nothing remained.
Lyra, her uniform streaked with ash and her hair wild in the melee, fought to maintain order. "Communications, I need that line cleared now!" she demanded, a trace of exhaustion in her voice. Even the indefatigable commander was beginning to show signs of strain. But her fierce determination continued to drive her, a force of will that compelled those around her to keep pushing, keep fighting.
Cassia stood at the center of it all, her heart pounding in her chest, feeling like a thread pulled tight, ready to snap at any moment. Every blast felt personal, every new attack another cruel stitch in a design she couldn't control. She had to get away, to think, to understand how everything had unraveled so quickly. As the command center around her blurred into a frenzy of movement and noise, she took a step back, retreating toward the corridor and the narrow escape of her quarters.
The air felt different as soon as she stepped inside, quieter, like an exhaled breath. Cassia closed the door to her quarters and slumped against it, a refuge of dim light and cluttered solitude. The hum of the command center, the chaos and cacophony, seemed like a distant storm she had just outrun. Her breathing was uneven, each gasp trying to keep up with her racing thoughts. She pushed off from the door and staggered to her worktable, collapsing into a chair. It felt like the only solid thing in a world unraveling around her.
The room, a comforting mess of half-finished projects and fabric scraps, was usually her sanctuary. But now, even here, Cassia couldn't escape the echoes of devastation. Her mind looped through the images from the holographic display, unable to let go of the red alerts that had spread like a contagion. So many strongholds, so many lives she couldn't save. Her shoulders shook with the weight of her helplessness. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was personal, that each attack was a deliberate strike at her very heart.
She buried her head in her arms, the ache of exhaustion and fear settling deep in her bones. For a moment, she let herself think of home—Brighton, her mother, the life she had fled in search of answers and meaning. And now, those answers seemed further away than ever.
A sudden flicker of light drew her attention, snapping her upright in her seat. The Gragaruam on her wrist had come alive, casting strange shadows against the walls. Cassia blinked at it, her heart stumbling over the unexpected sight. It projected a wavering image, hazy at first, but slowly resolving into the figure of a man.
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Father?" The word came out as a whisper, disbelief and longing woven through each syllable.
The holographic form of Aldric Harper stood before her, an apparition of calm amidst her turmoil. His expression was grave, his voice steady and deliberate. "Cassia," he began, as if her name carried all the weight of the universe. "If you're seeing this message, then our worst fears have come to pass. My brother, Matthias, knows of your existence. He knows of your power."
Cassia felt like the ground had dropped from beneath her. The rest of the world slipped away, and all she could do was watch and listen as her father's image filled the small room with impossible revelations. Her mind rebelled against what she was hearing, a tumult of doubt and denial. It had to be a mistake, a cruel joke in the midst of their crisis.
Aldric continued, his words precise and unyielding. "You are the last legitimate heir to the throne. Your bloodline is the key to ending Matthias's rule. He fears you, Cassia, because he knows that you can claim what he never could."
She shook her head, trying to dispel the words as if they were a mirage. "No," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the truth she couldn't yet accept. "This can't be real." Her fingers gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white with the effort to hold on.
The holographic Aldric remained unfazed by her protest, a spectral presence in the dim room. "Our mixed heritage gives you abilities he cannot counter," he explained, each sentence pulling her closer to a truth she was desperate to avoid. "As the bloodline progresses, so does its power. You have the ability to manipulate energy at a molecular level. You, Cassia, are the strongest of us all."
The room seemed to pulse with the enormity of the revelation. Cassia felt lightheaded, as if the very air had changed. Her mind, a whirlwind of skepticism and dread, began to slow. Pieces of her past, the half-remembered puzzles of her life, began to slot together with unsettling clarity.
As if to underscore Aldric's words, the pin on her shirt—her trusted, unassuming talisman—began to glow softly, casting an ethereal light that matched the Gragaruam's projection. She stared at it, transfixed, as it brightened in response to the message. The faint warmth at her chest hinted at the latent power she never imagined she held, an amplifier for abilities she was only beginning to understand.
The holographic message continued, Aldric's voice unwavering. "This is why I had to leave, why I kept you hidden. It was the only way to keep you safe. The Gragaruam contains all the knowledge you need. It is your inheritance, your protection, and now your responsibility."
Cassia sat motionless, each new piece of information adding layers to her already spiraling confusion. The Gragaruam dimmed, Aldric's final words echoing in her mind. "You are not alone, Cassia. Remember that you are never alone."
Then he was gone, the holographic image blinking out of existence and leaving Cassia alone with the fading glow of her pin. Her entire world had been reshaped in the span of a few moments. Everything she thought she knew, every decision she'd made, felt suspended in the light of this new reality.
She pressed her fingers to the pin, its warmth a tangible reminder of the power she possessed—and the threat she now knew she posed to Matthias. The enormity of her heritage settled over her, heavy yet somehow comforting. A burden, yes, but also a purpose she'd been missing. The questions that had plagued her for so long now had answers, and the sense of direction she'd lost was beginning to return.
Her thoughts drifted back to Dain, to the others fighting in the chaos she had left behind. If what her father said was true, she was more than a bystander in this war. She was the center of it. And she knew she couldn't hide from that any longer. A mix of fear and determination flooded through her, but for the first time, it felt like something she could control.
He didn't like it here. Too much light, too much noise, too much waiting for things he couldn't control. Dain stood in his quarters, scanning for threats that wouldn't appear. The distant rumble of explosions echoed through the walls, a constant reminder of the battle raging outside. His mind replayed the message from the command center, each urgent order and report a needle in his thoughts.
The room was stark, almost austere, the way he preferred it. It held none of the personal touches or clutter he'd seen in Cassia's quarters. Just a narrow bed, a small workbench, and an array of weapons meticulously organized on one wall. Everything was in its place, a small comfort in a universe spinning toward chaos.
Dain tried to focus, to regain the clarity that had always come so easily before. His thoughts were usually precise, disciplined. But now, a cacophony of voices and priorities competed for attention. Protect Cassia. Defend the base. Stay alert. It was too much, and he could feel his control beginning to slip.
Then, a subtle beep cut through the din. An encrypted transmission. His eyes narrowed as he approached the small communicator on the workbench. He recognized the encryption—Vertex Collective. His former employers. The sight of the transmission reignited something primal, and he felt a growl forming in his throat.
The device hummed, projecting a shadowy figure, their features obscured but unmistakably familiar. Dain's posture tensed, every muscle coiled and ready. He knew this conversation would come, but its timing was a cruel reminder of the tangled web he'd tried to leave behind.
"Dain," the handler's voice crackled through the transmission, cold and efficient. "Your original contract still stands. Deliver the girl to the designated extraction point. Lord Matthias has tripled the bounty."
The words hit him with the force of a well-aimed shot. For a moment, he couldn't move, the impact rooting him in place. He had known his past would catch up with him eventually, but the immediacy of the order left him reeling. It was all too precise, too perfectly timed to unravel everything he had started to build with Cassia.
"You were created to follow orders, not to feel," the handler continued, as if sensing Dain's hesitation. Each word was a calculated assault on his newfound loyalties. "Do not let emotional attachments compromise your mission."
He clenched his fists, the knuckles whitening as he fought the rising tide of anger and confusion. He could almost feel the mechanical coldness of the order sinking into his skin, trying to strip away the fragile humanity he'd begun to claim as his own. The temptation to obey, to slip back into the familiar role of weapon over person, loomed large and seductive.
The handler's silhouette loomed over the small room, a ghost from a life he'd thought he could escape. "The girl is a threat, Dain," the voice persisted, relentless. "Deliver her, or we will send someone else."
Dain's features began to change, the veneer of control slipping with each passing second. His eyes, usually a cool silver, flared with amber intensity. He could feel the claws in his hands extending, a visceral reminder of the instincts and engineering that defined him. But with the physical change came clarity. A stark, unyielding certainty about where his true loyalty lay.
With a sudden, savage movement, he snatched the communicator from the table and crushed it in his grip. The shattered device sparked and flickered before dying completely, the transmission silenced by his definitive choice.
He stood there, the broken remnants of his past crumbling between his fingers. His breath came in heavy bursts, the exertion and release leaving him both invigorated and spent. For the first time since the attacks began, his thoughts felt sharp and clear.
Cassia. His commitment to protect her had driven him to a point of no return. He knew the consequences would come, and soon. But the decision had been made, and with it came a renewed sense of purpose that he couldn't ignore.
Dain surveyed the room one last time, the neat rows of weapons and sparse decor suddenly insignificant against the backdrop of his new reality. The handler had been right about one thing—Cassia was a threat. But not to him. She was a threat to Matthias, to everything the regime stood for, and he realized now that she was the best chance they had.
As he left the quarters behind, Dain felt the lingering tendrils of his old life begin to loosen their grip. He had chosen to stand by Cassia, against all odds, against the very nature of his existence. The gamble was a dangerous one, but it was a gamble he was willing to take.
They were a tattered assembly of survivors and leaders, patched together with resolve and desperation. The reinforced bunker felt smaller with each report, each new word of loss. Harsh lights buzzed overhead, casting weary shadows on faces marked by soot and worry. The air was thick with the aftermath of chaos, and every person gathered felt the weight of their crumbling rebellion.
Cassia and Dain stood together, a striking contrast of hope and tension. They watched as Commander Lyra Voss took her place at the head of the assembly. Her uniform was singed, and a smudge of soot streaked her cheek, but her eyes burned with the fire of a leader who refused to surrender.
"Sixty percent of our forces," Lyra announced, her voice steady but tinged with an undeniable edge of urgency. "Gone. Outposts destroyed. Supply lines cut." The impact of her words settled over the room like a leaden shroud, drawing quiet murmurs and exchanged glances from the beleaguered group.
Cassia felt the familiar knot of fear and doubt tightening in her chest, but it was different now. It didn't consume her the way it had before. She stepped forward, aware of Dain's steady presence at her side. Her heart pounded with something that felt dangerously close to hope. "I know how we can still win," she said, her voice clear and carrying over the tense assembly.
The council turned to her, a mix of skepticism and desperate curiosity on their faces. Cassia swallowed, feeling the enormity of the moment. "I've learned something from the Gragaruam," she continued, feeling her confidence grow with each word. "Something about who I am. About why Matthias is targeting us." She paused, letting the anticipation build. "I'm not just a member of the rebellion. I'm the heir to the throne. And my bloodline is the key to defeating him."
A ripple of shock coursed through the room, disbelief mingling with a fragile glimmer of hope. The expressions around her ranged from incredulity to cautious optimism, and Cassia could almost hear the thoughts churning behind every set of eyes. Was it true? Could she really be the weapon Matthias feared most?
Dain moved closer, a silent but powerful testament to his allegiance. His presence reinforced her words, and the tension in the room shifted ever so slightly. Cassia looked at him, a flash of understanding passing between them, then turned back to the group.
"But she's just a girl," a grizzled officer spoke up, his voice wavering between skepticism and belief. "How can one person—?"
Lyra cut him off, her focus squarely on Cassia. "You're certain about this?" The question carried both a challenge and a measure of hope. Her green eyes locked onto Cassia's, searching for any sign of doubt.
Cassia nodded, feeling the warmth of the glowing pin against her chest, a constant reminder of the power she now knew she wielded. "More certain than I've ever been about anything," she said, meeting Lyra's gaze with unflinching resolve.
The commander paced, her mind clearly racing through the implications of this revelation. She had the look of a seasoned strategist confronted with a new and untested weapon, uncertain but intrigued. "Then what's your plan, Harper?" she demanded, the informal address signaling a shift in her regard for Cassia.
Dain spoke for the first time, his voice steady and filled with conviction. "We can't keep running. Cassia is right—she's the one Matthias fears most. We need to take the fight to him."
The council erupted into debate, voices clashing as the rebel leaders struggled with the magnitude of the situation. Some argued passionately for an immediate counterattack, while others insisted that retreat was their only viable option. The bunker seemed to shrink further as the arguments bounced off its thick walls.
Lyra raised a hand, calling for order. Her face was set with determination, the kind that brooked no argument. "Listen to me," she said, her voice rising above the din. "We can't ignore what Cassia's saying. But we need to be realistic. We need to survive. We can't sacrifice what's left of our forces on a gamble."
Cassia stepped forward again, a surge of courage propelling her past the point of no return. "This isn't just a gamble," she insisted, her voice infused with a passion that caught even her by surprise. "It's our best chance. Matthias won't stop until he destroys us all, but we can stop him first. I can stop him."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. She saw the doubts and fears mirrored in the eyes of the rebels, but she also saw something else—an ember of belief, flickering to life with every second that passed.
Lyra remained silent for a long moment, considering Cassia's proposal with the careful calculation of someone who had been burned by risk before. Then, she nodded slowly, a reluctant but decisive gesture. "If we're doing this," she said, her voice fierce and unwavering, "we do it together. We do it right."
Cassia felt a surge of relief and determination. It was more than an agreement; it was an acceptance, a validation of everything she had just discovered about herself. "We take the fight directly to my uncle," she said, the plan forming with clarity and conviction. "I am the weapon he fears most. We hit him where he least expects it, and we hit him hard."
The room fell into a tense but resolute silence as the gravity of Cassia's words settled over the group. The enormity of their decision loomed large, but so did the hope it carried.
One by one, the rebel leaders nodded, their initial skepticism giving way to a sense of unity and purpose. They were still battered, still on the brink of annihilation, but Cassia had given them something they'd been missing for far too long—a fighting chance.
As the council disbanded, the atmosphere was electric with the urgency and anticipation of the new plan. Cassia looked at Dain, his unwavering support a steady anchor in the whirlwind of the rebellion's renewed momentum. For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged. She had claimed her identity, and now, with the full backing of the rebels, she would claim her destiny.