Starlit Throne - Chapter 5: Echoes of the Wandering Prince

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

The asteroids drifted like forgotten worlds, untethered and ancient, as the ship wove a delicate path among them. Dain sat rigid in the pilot's seat, his eyes locked on the vast expanse of floating rock that surrounded them. He glanced at Cassia—wide-eyed, a child seeing stars for the first time. Her wonder softened the hard lines of his focus, but his mind stayed sharp, alert, counting down the seconds until their arrival. He kept his voice steady. "Hold tight. We're almost there."

Cassia gripped the edge of her seat, half expecting the ship to rattle apart at any moment. "I've never seen anything like this. How can you even tell where we're going?"

Dain’s gaze remained on the controls. "I've been here before."

The calm certainty in his voice did little to ease the nervous thrill that coursed through her. Asteroids spun lazily past them, sometimes so close that she could see craggy details on their surfaces. She couldn't decide if the whole place was more like a graveyard or a sanctuary.

Cassia’s heart jumped as the largest asteroid suddenly came to life. Panels retracted, metal gleamed, and hidden docking bays opened in a seamless display of engineering.

"It looks abandoned," she said, breathless.

"Designed to," Dain replied, eyes never leaving the control panel. "It's one of your father's safe houses. He established these years ago as havens from unwanted attention."

He angled the ship toward the now-exposed entrance, navigating with swift precision. As they entered the station, Cassia caught sight of something she'd never imagined—whole sections of the rock were hollowed out, transformed into vast, open spaces.

Dain's voice cut through her thoughts. "Prepare for landing."

The docking bay was sleek, all sharp angles and cool metallic surfaces, but worn by use. Scorch marks marred the floor where ships had hastily docked and departed, and patched-up walls spoke of hurried repairs. Dain set the ship down with a deft touch and quickly rose from his seat.

"Stay close," he said. "This place may not be as deserted as it looks."

Cassia nodded, her curiosity piqued. She followed him out of the ship, her steps echoing against the metal floor. The station felt immense and foreign, a maze of potential secrets.

They moved through the bay, passing piles of equipment and stacks of crates labeled in languages she couldn't decipher. "What is all this?"

"Supplies. Fuel. Trade goods," Dain replied with brisk efficiency. "Your father liked to be prepared."

"And the repairs?"

"Signs of visitors." His eyes darted, always moving, never settling. "Or intruders."

Cassia found herself both reassured and unnerved by his vigilance. They exited the bay, entering a corridor that curved away into the unknown. The walls were a blend of sleek technology and rough-hewn asteroid, alien architecture that was both beautiful and stark. Lights flickered on as they approached, guiding them deeper into the station.

"Are all his outposts like this?" she asked, almost to herself.

"Similar. Some larger. Some less... stable," Dain replied. He took a left turn with unerring confidence, never hesitating.

Cassia hurried to keep up, marveling at the design. "How do you know your way around?"

"Security protocols," he said simply, pointing out devices she hadn't noticed. "Surveillance. Alarms. Hidden exits."

His discipline showed in every step, every clipped word, but Cassia couldn't help noticing the way he moved. He was more alert, more animalistic. His gait had a predatory fluidity, and his ears seemed to twitch at sounds she couldn't hear.

"You really think there could be someone else here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"It's possible," he replied. "Or my instincts may be... overactive."

Cassia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. They reached a large, secured door at the end of the corridor. Dain paused, turning to her with a rare gentleness in his eyes.

"He's waited a long time for this moment. So have you. But remember—he had his reasons."

Her heart beat fast, emotions she couldn't name rising to the surface. Would she even recognize him? The father she barely remembered, the man who had been a ghost her entire life?

Dain entered a code into the panel. The door slid open with a whisper, revealing a man whose features were strikingly familiar—tall and lean, with eyes that mirrored her own. Cassia stared, caught between disbelief and recognition.

"Welcome home," Aldric Harper said softly.

The chamber hummed with the secrets of the universe. Star charts papered the walls like frantic sketches, and artifacts from distant worlds cluttered every surface. Aldric Harper stood among them, a relic himself, and watched the door as if his longing could will her to appear. When Cassia finally stepped through, the look on his face was one of recognition and an old, aching hope.

"Hello, Cassia," he said, voice gentle but edged with emotion.

She stood frozen in the doorway, her expression a whirlwind of shock and disbelief. He looked so much like the few memories she had, yet impossibly more alive and vivid. Time seemed to stretch, elastic and unsteady, as father and daughter faced each other for the first time in years.

"You made it," Aldric said softly, stepping toward her. His eyes were intent, searching her face as if trying to fill the gaps of a story he'd only imagined.

Cassia's body was tense, caught between wanting to close the distance and wanting to turn and flee. The awkward silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and accusations.

"You look so much like your mother," Aldric said, stopping a careful distance away.

Cassia's expression shifted, the storm within her brewing into something sharper. Her fingers brushed against the antique pin at her collar, a tether to the past she couldn't untie. "The mother who raised me alone while you were gone," she said, the words biting and raw.

Aldric flinched as if struck, but quickly regained his composure. "I never wanted to leave you," he began, his voice earnest and steady. "There are things you don't know—"

"I know enough," Cassia interrupted, her voice trembling with the force of held-back tears. "You left us. You left me."

Pain flashed across Aldric's features, but he pressed on. "I had to keep you safe, Cassia. My brother—your uncle—is a dangerous man. When I chose your mother over the throne, he saw it as a betrayal and vowed to eliminate any heirs. Staying away was the only way to protect you."

The mention of an uncle—a whole other side of family she never knew—hit Cassia like a wave. She struggled to keep her balance, to keep the anger at the forefront where it was safer. "And I was just supposed to understand that?"

Aldric's expression softened, his gaze unwavering. "I never expected you to understand. Only to survive."

He gestured to the far wall, where holographic records flickered to life. Images of a sprawling galactic empire filled the air, showing Cassia pieces of a history she had never imagined. Her eyes widened as the records played out, depicting royal bloodlines, star maps, and finally, evidence of brutal assassination attempts.

She watched in stunned silence, each image a new piece of the puzzle that was her life. Slowly, the foundations of disbelief began to crack.

"You were never abandoned," Aldric said, the weight of his own choices heavy in his voice. "Every moment apart from you was its own kind of loss."

Cassia's anger and hurt ebbed into a whirlpool of confusion. The truth, in all its unexpected complexity, left her feeling unmoored. She clutched the pin as if it were a lifeline, something solid in a world suddenly vast and uncertain.

Aldric's words were careful, but the emotion behind them was raw and exposed. "I wanted nothing more than to be with you. But if I'd returned, it would have led them straight to you."

Cassia turned away from the holographic display, her mind struggling to process the enormity of it all. She felt Dain's presence at the edge of the room, silent and watchful. He stood guard, his attention unwavering, yet his expression softened when he thought she wasn’t looking.

The chamber was still buzzing with the recorded echoes of family betrayal and survival, the air thick with the ghosts of a past she was only beginning to grasp.

"Can you believe me?" Aldric asked, the simple question layered with years of regret and hope.

Cassia met his gaze, and for the first time, the anger gave way to something more vulnerable. "I don't know," she said, her voice barely a whisper. But even in her uncertainty, there was a glimmer of possibility.

Aldric's eyes shone with a cautious optimism. "Let me show you more. There is so much I want you to understand."

Cassia hesitated, the decision heavy with the weight of everything they had been and everything they could still be. "I suppose I've come this far," she replied, trying to mask her reluctance with humor, though it came out hollow.

Aldric's face lit up with a tentative smile, a small crack in the careful reserve he'd held for so long. Cassia followed him deeper into the chamber, each step a bridge between worlds.

Dain lingered at the door, his own feelings a tangle of admiration and worry as he watched Cassia confront a past that had been hidden from her, just as his own had been hidden from him. His attention never wavered, but there was something deeper in his eyes now—a connection, unspoken and profound, that held him in place as surely as any vow.

The symbols were carved into the floor like scars, raw and precise. They tangled with wires and devices whose functions Cassia couldn't begin to guess. The whole chamber felt like an open wound, too bright and too stark, and her father walked through it with the ease of long familiarity. Aldric turned to her, an old energy in his eyes. "There's more to your legacy than blood. I can teach you."

Cassia's gaze swept across the room, taking in the strange and unsettling surroundings. The air was electric with possibilities, yet she felt out of place, like a piece that didn't quite fit.

Aldric picked up an odd device from a nearby table and turned it in his hands. "Our people have always had a natural affinity for energy manipulation. Yours is a rare talent, Cassia, though it has remained dormant."

"Energy manipulation?" She echoed, uncertain and skeptical. "Is that why you brought me here? To teach me party tricks?"

Aldric chuckled softly, undeterred by her sarcasm. "Much more than tricks. Our abilities have shaped history, built worlds. The pin you wear—it's not just jewelry. It's a conduit, designed to both hide and harness your powers."

He moved to the center of the room, positioning himself between the intricate floor markings. With deliberate focus, Aldric created a small orb of pulsing blue light between his palms. It hovered and glowed, casting shimmering patterns against the chamber's walls.

Cassia watched in awe, her skepticism wavering. The light was beautiful, impossibly alive. She wanted to understand, to believe.

"Your turn," Aldric said, breaking the spell. He nodded toward her, inviting her into the center of the symbols.

Cassia hesitated, then stepped forward, trying to suppress her nervousness. Aldric instructed her to hold the pin in her open palm, guiding her through a series of focusing exercises. The process felt strange and unnatural, like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands.

Her first attempts were met with nothing but silence and frustration. The room seemed to mock her efforts, its humming energy just beyond her grasp.

"This isn't working," Cassia said, doubt creeping into her voice. "What if I'm not... capable?"

Aldric's expression was calm and reassuring. "It's all new to you. Relax. Concentrate. Trust your instincts."

She closed her eyes, focusing on his words and the warmth of the pin against her skin. Slowly, she felt a flicker of connection, a gentle tug at the edges of her awareness.

"Good," Aldric encouraged. "Now try without the pin. It has masked your abilities. You may find it's easier without it."

Reluctantly, Cassia unclasped the pin and set it aside. She felt exposed, vulnerable, like shedding armor in the middle of battle.

"Now, focus again," Aldric said, his voice steady and sure.

Without the pin, something shifted. The air felt different, charged and responsive. Her breath caught as the pin began to glow faintly, then more strongly. Tiny sparks of energy danced around her fingertips, alive and vibrant.

Cassia stared in amazement, the initial thrill tempered by the unpredictability of it all. The power pulsed with her heartbeat, both exhilarating and frightening.

"It's working!" She exclaimed, unable to hide the wonder in her voice.

Aldric smiled, a father's pride shining through. "You're doing it, Cassia. Now, let's see what happens when you focus more deeply."

He guided her through additional exercises, each one more complex than the last. The training intensified, Aldric pushing her to channel energy through the pin. Cassia felt the power build and shift, wild and untamed.

Her frustration began to transform into awe, the unpredictability of it becoming a challenge she wanted to master. But just as she started to feel some measure of control, a sudden burst of energy surged through her. It knocked items from nearby shelves, sent artifacts clattering to the floor.

She gasped, startled by the strength of it.

Aldric's laughter was warm and unguarded. "You have no idea how powerful you can become."

Cassia met his gaze, a mix of excitement and unease in her eyes. Her life, once so neatly defined, was now a chaotic web of possibilities and uncertainties.

Dain, who had been watching from the edge of the room, reacted visibly to the display. His pupils dilated, and his posture straightened. Cassia caught his eye, saw the conflict in his expression—a battle between protective instincts and admiration for her potential.

Aldric approached her, picking up the fallen artifacts with a casual grace. "You've made remarkable progress in just one session," he said. "Imagine what you'll be able to do with time and practice."

Cassia took a deep breath, trying to absorb the reality of her new abilities. She was exhilarated but uneasy, sensing that nothing would ever be the same again.

Dain moved closer, his gaze never leaving her. "Impressive," he said, his voice carrying a note of something deeper. Concern? Pride? Even he seemed unsure.

Cassia held the glowing pin in her hand, its light a tangible symbol of her transformed world. Her father's approval was a weight she hadn’t realized she wanted, and Dain's unspoken support added another layer to her tangled emotions. She stood in the center of the room, feeling the pull of all the new and complex forces that had just entered her life.

She could sense the past in every corner of the room. It lingered in the fabrics and the furnishings, an invisible specter that made the air feel heavy and crowded. Her father's touch was everywhere, each carefully chosen detail a reminder of the years he'd spent without her. The years they'd both lost.

Cassia stood in the doorway, her eyes sweeping over the shelves filled with artifacts and the neatly folded clothes. Everything looked like it belonged to her mother. Everything felt like it was meant for someone else.

Aldric watched her carefully, as if expecting the anger that flared in her eyes.

"Is this supposed to make up for all the time you were gone?" Cassia's voice shook, a raw edge to her words. "You had all of this, and you never came back?"

Aldric took a deep breath, the weight of it showing in the slump of his shoulders. "It was never that simple," he said, his voice quiet and full of regret.

"It seems pretty simple to me," Cassia shot back. "You left us. You left me!"

Her accusation hung in the air, a jagged wound between them. Aldric flinched but didn’t look away.

"After your mother died," he began, each word a careful extraction, "I thought of returning. I almost did. But the attempts on your life were becoming more frequent. I couldn't risk leading them to you."

"Attempts?" Cassia's anger wavered, replaced by something like disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I?" Aldric's voice cracked, and he quickly masked the slip. "How could I burden a child with such knowledge?"

Cassia felt the room spinning, the carefully arranged objects blurring in her vision. She wanted to hold on to the anger, to the sense of betrayal that had been her only company for so long. But the cracks were beginning to show.

"Was any of it real?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Did you even love us?"

The question pierced the air, and Cassia saw the pain it caused him. For a moment, she thought he might turn away, but he remained, steadfast and exposed.

"More than anything," Aldric said, the sincerity in his voice raw and unfiltered. "Every day apart was a choice I made for you, Cassia. Not for me."

The walls she had built, the armor of years spent wondering and resenting, finally crumbled. Cassia's anger gave way to tears, an emotional flood she couldn't control.

Aldric moved closer, hesitant but hopeful. His touch was both awkward and gentle as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I wanted you to have a life free from danger," he said, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "I hoped you could be happy."

Cassia turned to him, the dam finally breaking. "I was alone," she sobbed, the words pouring out with years of pent-up anguish. "I needed you."

Aldric's expression was stricken, every one of his choices laid bare and bleeding. "And I failed you," he admitted, the admission heavy with the kind of honesty that comes too late.

She leaned into him, exhaustion overtaking her anger. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet, but it was a step toward something neither of them could name.

From the corridor, Dain listened to their conversation, his enhanced hearing picking up every word, every shift in emotion. The parallels to his own life were painfully clear, and his usually stoic expression was filled with an empathy that surprised even him.

Aldric finally pulled back, studying Cassia's tear-streaked face with a mixture of hope and regret. "Rest," he said softly. "We have time now."

Cassia nodded, too drained to respond with words. She watched him leave, her heart aching with the complexities of love and loss.

Dain waited until Aldric was gone before stepping inside, his presence both comforting and unsettling. He paused near the door, unsure how close to get.

"Family is... complicated," he said, his voice awkward but sincere.

Cassia let out a shaky breath, trying to regain some composure. "That's one way to put it."

He shifted, clearly struggling with what to say next. "You're alright?"

"I think so," she replied, wiping her eyes. "It's a lot to take in."

Dain's instinct was to close the distance, to offer more tangible comfort, but something held him back. "I'm not good at this," he admitted, the closest thing to vulnerability she'd ever heard from him. "But I'm here. If you need... anything."

Cassia looked at him, seeing the conflict in his eyes—a reflection of her own tangled emotions. She smiled, a small, tentative gesture that said more than words could.

"Thank you," she said, feeling the gravity of those simple words.

Dain nodded, the tension in his posture softening slightly. "I meant what I said back on the ship. You're not alone, Cassia."

The statement hung between them, charged with unspoken meaning. Cassia felt the truth of it, like the spark of energy that had danced around her fingers, unpredictable and alive.

Dain lingered a moment longer before stepping back into the corridor, leaving Cassia to the solitude of her thoughts. She picked up the glowing pin, examining it with a new understanding of both its significance and her own. The room still felt full, heavy with the ghosts of the past, but less daunting than before.

Cassia's world had changed irrevocably, and she was just beginning to see how much. As Dain stood watch from the doorway, his gaze intense and conflicted, Cassia felt the pulse of something new—hope, perhaps, or maybe even belonging. It was still undefined, still fragile, but it was there. And it was real.