Starlit Throne - Chapter 9: Moonlit Confessions
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
Cassia and Dain sat on the ridge, the camp below flickering like an ember. Overhead, Lumiria's three moons swirled together, a trinity of luminescent silver. Cassia watched their light settle over the jungle, bathing the leaves in molten indigo. The scent of wild blooms was thick, cloying, as if the whole planet conspired to overwhelm the senses. Dain shifted beside her, a silent predator in the night, and she felt the air bristle with unsaid words.
A day ago, this had all seemed so much simpler. Rebel plans and family legacies—Cassia could handle those. But now, everything was twisting, becoming something else. She took a breath, letting the thick floral perfume and damp earth fill her lungs, and looked at Dain, trying to make sense of the chaos inside her.
"I didn't think you'd ever be able to sit still," she teased, attempting to lighten the tension that pulsed between them. Her fingers brushed against the cool rock, fidgeting as always.
Dain turned to her, the triple moons catching the silver in his eyes. He looked less like a soldier here, less armored and more... vulnerable, though his features still held that unreadable edge. His ears were slightly pointed, she noticed again, and she wondered how much else he'd been keeping under wraps.
"You get used to it," he replied, voice low. "It's the waiting that makes you efficient." He seemed to consider his next words carefully, almost too carefully, she thought. "Cassia, I—"
The pause hung there, weighted with days of tension and too many almost-words.
"It's the truth I can't quite adapt to," she said, softer now, not sure if she was interrupting or inviting more.
His expression shifted—was it guilt? Relief?—and Cassia felt the air grow denser, charged with an urgency that had nothing to do with battle plans or strategy.
"You deserve to know what I've been... withholding," Dain said finally, the words precise, like his training demanded. "I've known since our first meeting what you mean to me. You're my fated mate, Cassia."
Cassia's breath caught, the words snaking into places she hadn't let herself explore. She thought back to their first meeting, to every look and touch since then, and wondered why she was so surprised.
"But you've been resisting it," she said, more statement than question, trying to stitch the pieces together.
"For your protection," he replied, his voice slipping into a low rumble. "A bond like this—it carries risk, especially with what you're facing. I thought I could... spare you."
Cassia's fingers traced the Gragaruam on her wrist, the gift from her father that should have offered guidance. Now it seemed she'd been reading it all wrong.
"And it doesn't bother you, just deciding that on your own?" Her voice was steady, but the crack beneath it betrayed how deeply she was already caught up in all of this.
"It does," Dain admitted, and there was a rawness in his tone that she'd never heard before. "The instincts... they're strong, Cassia. You're more than I'd ever allow myself to hope for." He stopped, seeming to calculate the next revelation. "Mating bonds like ours, across species—they're almost unheard of."
The words landed with weight, but Cassia felt something lifting inside her, a sense of rightness she'd been scared to claim. Hadn't she felt this pull all along? Wasn't it why she couldn't shake him, even when she tried?
"You're serious about this," she said, a nervous laugh escaping, half-question and half-dare.
He held her gaze, the air shimmering with the gravity of his unblinking stare. "It's not something I can alter," he said, a hint of vulnerability threading through the military certainty.
Her heart raced ahead of her thoughts, wild and frantic. "Then you don't know me very well," she said, meeting his intensity with the sudden daring of her own.
She saw something in his eyes change, an amber flash of surprise, and realized that maybe he was right—this was something rare and dangerous, but she'd never been able to resist a challenge. The Gragaruam's symbols danced in her mind, mapping out futures she'd never thought to follow.
"I'm still processing that I'm even doing this," she said, inching closer, feeling the tension tighten like a wire between them. "But, Dain, I'm tired of fighting it too."
Cassia moved closer, a cautious creature edging into unknown territory. The rebel camp spread beneath them, a galaxy of flickering light. The jungle sang its nocturnal symphony, a chorus of hums and rustles and foreign calls. Cassia looked out over it, this alien world that felt more like home than she'd expected. She hadn't intended to bare her soul tonight, but Dain's confession had shaken something loose, and now the words crowded her, demanding escape.
"Tell me to shut up if you've heard enough," she said, half-joking but with a serious undertone that spoke of how much she still held back. The space between them felt heavy with the weight of things unsaid, yet already lighter than she'd feared.
"I'm listening," Dain assured her, and there was a softness in his voice that she didn't expect from someone so precise. His shoulder brushed against hers, and she felt the warmth of him through her thin shirt, real and grounding.
Cassia hesitated, but only for a moment. "I don't know if I can lead them," she began, each word spilling out like it had been bottled too long. "This rebellion, it's so much bigger than I thought. And everyone keeps looking to me, like I'm supposed to have answers."
"You have more answers than you know," Dain said. His proximity was intoxicating, more potent than the jungle's heavy perfume.
"I don't even know if I'm worthy of this heritage," she admitted, a touch of bitterness creeping in. "Or if it's worth anything at all."
Dain turned to face her, and for the first time, Cassia saw no mask of control. "You underestimate yourself," he said, and she couldn't help but notice how the words came easier now, less burdened by the formality he'd always used to keep her at arm's length. "And your strength."
It was what she needed to hear, but also what she couldn't quite believe. Not yet. "I'm not sure," she said, voice almost a whisper. "About any of it. About me."
Dain reached out, and his hand on her arm was an anchor. "I am."
She breathed in the moment, letting it fill her. "And then there's this." She gestured to the air around her, and he understood. He always did. "The powers, the visions—I can't control them. Sometimes I think they're controlling me."
"You're discovering who you are," Dain said, his words gentle but steady. "It's never easy, Cassia, but you're not alone."
That truth lodged in her chest, a warm, stubborn presence. "I've felt it too," she confessed, and the courage in her voice surprised even her. "The bond. Everything you said—I've felt it too."
Dain's eyes caught the light, shifting like liquid metal. She saw the joy there, an emotion so pure she wondered how he'd managed to keep it hidden for so long.
"Then why resist?" she asked, the question aimed at both of them.
His answer came with a rough sincerity. "I thought I could protect you by keeping my distance. But now I know the cost."
Cassia absorbed his words, feeling them thrum through her. It was what she'd been too afraid to hope for. "I'm terrified," she admitted, turning to face him directly, "but I'm more scared of doing this alone."
She searched his face, and for once, Dain let her see everything—his hope, his need, his resolve. She took a breath, not to steady herself but to dive deeper, and then closed the gap between them with a boldness she'd only just found.
She kissed him, the choice more instinct than decision, a rush of pure emotion that demanded to be acted upon. Dain's response was immediate, his control snapping like a taut wire. He pulled her close, closer than she'd imagined possible, and Cassia felt the world tilt on its axis.
Everywhere he touched burned with a warmth that spread through her, intoxicating and endless. She opened her eyes for a moment, catching the shift in his features—the sharpness of his ears, the deepening amber of his eyes. It was real, all of it, and so much more than she'd let herself believe.
"More," he said, or maybe it was a growl, as he broke the kiss only to claim her lips again.
Dain's strength was a thing of wonder as he lifted her effortlessly, holding her like she weighed nothing. "Cassia," he breathed, and it was the sound of someone no longer willing to let anything come between them.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her laughter mingling with his heavy breaths. "So much for distance," she said, though she knew they both understood this was the only direction they'd ever been headed.
Together, they descended the ridge, the night wrapping around them like a secret.
The tent was a universe of their own making, warm and enclosed, separate from the battle cries and strategy sessions outside. Dain's kiss had lit a fuse, and now Cassia burned with urgency, with want, with too-long denied feelings. She felt him move against her, a barely-contained force that left her breathless. A single lamp threw amber shadows across their skin, and for once, Cassia didn't feel the need to overanalyze the pattern. Instead, she let herself be consumed by the raw, exhilarating now of it all.
Their clothes disappeared, shed like the last of their resistance, and Cassia felt a thrill at the sight of Dain unguarded and undone. His skin was warm beneath her hands, marked with scars that whispered stories she wanted to know. The sense of him, all around her, made her dizzy with need and something that felt a lot like hope.
Dain kissed her with a hunger that matched her own, his control fraying but still there, still careful. Cassia marveled at the gentleness he showed her, even as she felt the strength in every muscle, every touch. He was holding back, afraid to break her, and she loved him all the more for it.
"You won't hurt me," she said, with more certainty than she'd thought possible. "I trust you, Dain."
He pulled back slightly, eyes dark with emotions he couldn't hide, and for a moment, they simply were. Everything. Nothing. Just Cassia and Dain, without the weight of the universe pressing down.
"Then nothing else matters," he said, and the words were a promise, an admission, a plea.
His touch was everywhere, overwhelming and right, and Cassia let herself get lost in it, let herself want in ways she never had. She arched against him, her breaths coming in sharp, stolen gasps, as if they were catching fire in her lungs.
Then something shifted, and Cassia felt a rush of confidence, of daring. She moved over him, the change in angle making them both cry out, and for once, she reveled in the sound of it, in the abandon.
"You're incredible," Dain said, a growl mixed with awe, and she laughed, exhilarated.
The world narrowed to this—her and him and the wild, thrumming bond between them. They came together in an endless loop of passion and tenderness, need and joy. Dain's usual precision gave way to something wonderfully messy and real, and Cassia couldn't get enough of it.
"More," she gasped, and this time he was the one who let her take, take, take, without question.
It was then, when they reached the dizzying heights of their shared intensity, that the first glow appeared, soft and shimmering against Cassia's skin. She barely registered it at first, too caught up in Dain and the relentless surge of pleasure. But soon, it was undeniable.
"What's—" she started to ask, but Dain's fingers traced the light, his touch sending new sparks through her.
"Your powers," he said, wonder and disbelief mingling. "Our bond."
Cassia couldn't form a response, because suddenly everything exploded into brightness. Their climax hit like a tidal wave, luminous and powerful, and she was sure everyone in the camp must see. The tent lit up, casting the outside world in stark relief, then fell back to a gentle glow as the two of them finally came to rest.
She lay there, stunned and awash in sensations that defied explanation. The air around them felt charged, electric, and she realized it wasn't just her—it was them. The bond had changed them both, and she laughed, wild and breathless and free.
Dain looked at her with awe, still tracing the fading light on her skin. "Did you know it would be like this?" he asked, as if expecting an answer to make sense of the unimaginable.
"No," Cassia said, a grin stretching across her face. "But I'm glad it is."
He pulled her close, tucking her into his side, and Cassia could feel the steady drum of his heartbeat, matching hers in perfect sync. "What are we going to do with all this power?" she asked, not entirely joking.
"We're going to use it," Dain said, his voice firm with newfound resolve. "No more resistance. We face what comes together."
Cassia felt the truth of it in her bones, as unshakeable as the bond they'd finally embraced. "Then Matthias doesn't stand a chance," she said, feeling a surge of confidence that was almost as exhilarating as everything else they'd shared.
"We'll plan our next moves in the morning," Dain said, determination etched into every word. "But for now, just this."
"Just this," she agreed, the simplicity of the moment perfect in its own way.
They drifted together, exhaustion mingling with contentment, the worries of tomorrow kept at bay by the promise of now. And for once, Cassia didn't second-guess her luck.