Aunt Barbara
Orion,
It’s been a few days. That’s longer than usual for you to write to me. I’ve been checking the mailbox more often than I care to admit, wondering if maybe there was a delay in your corner of the galaxy. But the box remained empty. Now I’m wondering something else.
At first, when I used what you sent me, I felt you. Like you were there with me. Like you were inside me. Like I wasn’t alone.
But now, even when I try, there’s just silence. No hum. No echo of you. It’s like you’ve pulled away and taken all the light with you. I guess this is the part where I stop being shiny and interesting, and you decide I’m not worth the effort since I didn’t say the magic words.
We barely know each other. You’re in another galaxy, and I’m just a woman in a borrowed cabin with paint on her hands and rejection emails in her inbox.
I told you I’m not easy. I’m not the kind of girl who throws herself at someone just because he says all the right things. I thought you were being honest with me. Lord knows I was honest with you. Probably too honest.
But maybe this whole soul mate thing only works if the girl drops her pants and accepts her “fate” without asking too many questions.
Is that it, spaceman?
We have a word for what you’re doing right now. It’s called ghosting. It’s when a guy stops responding to messages because he’s lost interest and doesn’t have the balls to say it outright. I didn’t think you would be that guy. But silence speaks loud, and I’m listening.
I can’t believe I let myself get carried away like this. That I let myself believe, for a second, that someone like me might actually have a fated connection. That the universe could have picked me—flawed, overlooked, stubborn me—for something extraordinary.
Today, my ex is marrying my cousin. It’s also my birthday. My family is posting photos I’m not in. And the kicker is I found out I didn’t get the gallery showing I was counting on. So no, I don’t feel extraordinary. I feel stupid. And small. And tired.
I’m leaving the observatory. Going to stay with a friend.
Don’t bother responding. You don’t need to pretend anymore.
~Danika
Stardust,
I know now—beyond any measure of doubt—that the bond between us is real. Because I have never, in all my solars, felt an ache as sharp and consuming as the one that’s gutted me these past few zeniths. I felt your hurt like a blade. And knowing it was because of me? Oh, my ray of stars, I can hardly breathe through the weight of it.
My silence wasn’t a choice. I had to step away to handle matters of court. If you had been here, I would have kept you by my side—not just for the comfort you would have given me, though stars know I crave that—but to make sure you knew, without question, that I never want to take my attention away from you. You would have seen how your presence alone would’ve steadied me. That your worth is not something to be proven but something I revere. At my side, you will never doubt, never question, never ache from lack again.
I didn’t want to burden you with the chaos that has erupted here, but I can no longer keep it from you. The rival to my throne has seized on our bond. He’s claiming that I am unfit to rule because my fated mate rejected me. That you turned from me, while his mate has accepted him. Talion’s loyalists are whispering in court that I am unworthy. That the stars have withdrawn their favor.
I swore to give you time, and I meant it. Only now, our time is not our own. The balance of power is shifting. If Talion succeeds, our people will suffer. He is ruthless beneath his polished smile. I’m sure his mate will be no better. I won’t let them take the throne. I won’t let them make a mockery of fate. Of us.
In the middle of it all—of the whispers, the accusations, the pressure—I have your portrait. I carry that glimpse of your soul rendered in line and color tucked beneath my tunic, right at my heart. Every time I press my hand there, I feel the truth of you, the calm and fire you bring me in turn. I take it out when the trials weigh too heavily, and I thank the stars for gifting me a mate who is not only breathtaking but brilliant.
These past zeniths without your words nearly unraveled me, but the sight of your face—of what your hands created—held me together. I have stared at it, again and again, and sent every ounce of comfort I could through the bond, hoping you felt some flicker of peace. But it would appear all you felt was my worry and disquiet. I am sorry for that, Stardust. Let me make it better.
Accept the bond now and everything changes. Together, we’ll silence the court. We’ll end his claim. You will be honored, cherished, revered. You will have the platform to display your art to an entire world that will celebrate your vision. The ache in your heart—I will mend it with every kiss to your lips, your throat, your breasts. I will worship you until you fall asleep. Then I’ll make my way into your dreams and ensure you rest easy.
Once I have you in my arms, you will never again question your place in this universe.
Come to me, Danika. Let me fight with you beside me. Let me be the place where you finally feel at home.
—Orion
From the Hand of Her Majesty
Queen Aster of Frosthelm
The Crystal Keep, Celestial Terrace 1
Capital Province, Frosthelm Prime
