Everyone had acted strategically. Everyone had reasons.
Including me,Faith admitted reluctantly as she applied a light dusting of powder to her cheeks.I signed that contract willingly. I needed the money desperately enough to agree to travel to an alien planet with a woman I’d just met.
The complexity left her frustrated because she didn’t have a clear villain to blame. No convenient target for her anger and fear.
She hated that she needed this job. Hated that her bakery’s survival hung on this single commission. Hated that Kovrak needed her in ways that had nothing to do with her skill as a baker.
And she hated most of all that part of her wanted to help him anyway.
Faith caught her reflection’s eye in the mirror, her warm brown gaze sharp with self-awareness. Last night’s dinner replayed in her mind as she reached for the brush, working it through her long brown hair with methodical strokes.
Kovrak had been unexpectedly attentive, genuinely interested in her work as if it mattered. He’d asked real questions about her techniques, her inspirations, her journey from restaurant baker to business owner. When she’d talked about her struggles with her ex-boyfriend and mother dismissing her dreams, something had flickered in his ice-blue eyes—understanding, maybe even anger on her behalf.
And when he’d admitted his parents died when he was eight, when he’d spoken quietly about the weight of expectations placed on such young shoulders, her heart had ached for the boy who’d been forced to become a leader before he’d learned how to be himself.
He hadn’t postured or demanded. He’d restrained himself with a control that was both impressive and devastating.
That restraint is dangerous,Faith thought, setting down the brush with more force than necessary.
If he had pressured her this morning, leaving would have been easy. She could have righteously walked away from a demanding, entitled prince who expected her compliance. Instead, he’d given her space, respected her anger, and told her he would understand if she chose to leave.
That considerate behavior complicated everything.
Attraction would be inconvenient enough if he were just handsome and intense—and God, was he both. The way he moved with predatory grace, the way his presence commanded attention without effort, the way his rare smiles transformed his austere features into something breathtaking.
But kindness and care layered over that raw power? That was dangerous territory.
Faith set down her lipstick and met her own gaze in the mirror, forcing herself to acknowledge the thoughts she’d been avoiding.
She didn’t want to be swayed by how intoxicating the queen offer really was. How being his mate would mean belonging somewhere, having a purpose that extended beyond just surviving month to month. How it would feel to stand beside someone so powerful and have him look at her like she was precious, protected, and cherished all at once.
She didn’t want to care whether he kept his throne or lost it to whatever political rival was circling. Didn’t want to imagine the consequences if she walked away and left him to face another failed festival.
And I definitely don’t want to admit that I can’t imagine never seeing him again.
But the truth sat heavy in her chest, undeniable despite her best efforts to rationalize it away. She did care what happened to him and she couldn’t imagine never seeing him again.
The sharp rap against her suite door cut through Faith’s spiraling thoughts. She straightened in front of the mirror, smoothing the silk of her gown one final time before crossing to answer.
Commander Thalen Drix stood in the corridor, his imposing frame filling the doorway. His formal uniform was pristine, all sharp lines and military precision, but his expression remained unreadable as his blue eyes assessed her appearance.
“Miss Woodard.” His voice carried the same blunt efficiency she’d noticed yesterday. “I’m here to escort you to the opening ceremony.”
A flutter of disappointment caught her off guard, followed immediately by relief. She’d half-expected—half-hoped—thatKovrak might appear at her door despite his promise to give her space. The absence of his commanding presence both validated his word and left her strangely hollow.
He meant what he said about no pressure,she reminded herself firmly.This is good. Professional.
“Of course.” Faith stepped into the corridor, her heels clicking against the polished stone. “Thank you, Commander.”
As they walked through the palace’s elegant corridors, the distant hum of voices grew steadily louder, transforming from a gentle murmur into something that vibrated through the walls themselves. The sound carried an energy that made her skin prickle with awareness.
“Quite a crowd,” Faith observed, trying to keep her tone light despite the nervous flutter in her chest.
Thalen’s mouth curved into what might have been amusement. “The Festival of Twin Suns draws the entire pride. They’ve been anticipating this week for months.”
Anticipating what, exactly?Faith wondered, though she suspected she already knew the answer.
They emerged from the palace into gardens that stole her breath completely. Hundreds of people filled the manicured grounds, their clothing a stunning blend of elegance and something indefinably primal. Rich fabrics caught the light of the twin suns overhead, but there was an underlying intensity in the way people moved and the way they held themselves.