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T he way he looked at her—as if memorizing every feature of her face—made Bess’s heart flutter against her ribs. She could tell this was the real Charov and he was dangerous in an entirely different way.

Once inside the castle, a petite woman with dark hair and luminescent skin waited with hands folded neatly at her waist. She bowed deeply at Charov’s approach.

“Emesyn will take good care of you,” Charov said, his hand lingering at the small of Bess’s back. The heat of his palm seeped through her blouse, branding her skin. “She’s married to my royal assistant, Torborn. You couldn’t be in better hands.”

“Thank you,” Bess managed, acutely aware of how his fingers splayed possessively across her lower back.

He leaned in, bringing his lips close to her ear. “Sweet dreams.” His warm breath sent shivers cascading down her neck, and then he was gone, striding away with the confident gait of a predator.

Emesyn led Bess through winding corridors of polished marble and soaring arches. “You’ll be comfortable here, Miss Campos,” she said, opening an ornate door. “The prince ordered our finest guest suite prepared for you.”

The room was breathtaking—all plush fabrics and gleaming surfaces that somehow managed to feel both alien and welcoming.

“Where’s Gerri?” Bess asked, running her fingers over a strange crystalline flower that seemed to pulse with inner light. “I need to speak with her immediately.”

“Someone called?” Gerri’s voice chirped from directly behind her.

Bess whirled around, nearly knocking over the alien flower. Gerri stood there in a tailored crimson suit that seemed to shimmer as if sewn with living flame, not a single white hair out of place. Emesyn gave a quick bow and discreetly exited, closing the door behind her.

“You!” Bess pointed an accusing finger. “You neglected to mention that this adventure involved an arranged marriage to the alien prince!”

Gerri’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Would you have come if I told you?”

“That’s beside the point!” Bess paced across the plush carpet. “You lied by omission. This wasn’t just a date—Charov expects me to be his wife!”

“I’m an intergalactic paranormal matchmaker, dear,” Gerri said, settling onto a settee and crossing her legs primly. “With a 100 percent success rate, I might add. I don’t just set people up for casual flings.”

Bess stopped pacing. “What does that even mean—paranormal matchmaker?”

“It means I have a gift for finding true mates.” Gerri’s eyes shifted from blue to a startling gold. “And you, Bess Campos, are Prince Charov Mavac’s true mate.”

“He mentioned something about being destined, but?—”

“All shifters have one true mate,” Gerri explained, her golden eyes warm. “The one person in the universe perfectly suited to them. Not all are lucky enough to find that person on their own—that’s where I come in.”

Bess sank onto the edge of the bed, still reeling. “And you think that’s me? For him?”

“I don’t think, darling. I know .” Gerri’s confidence was unshakable.

“Don’t I get a choice in this?” Bess asked, her voice small against the enormity of what Gerri was suggesting.

“Of course, you do!” Gerri’s laugh tinkled like wind chimes. “You’re free to leave any time you want. Just say the word, and I’ll take you back to Earth.”

Bess wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly unsure. The thought of returning to her empty apartment and dull life held none of the appeal it should have. And the memory of Charov’s hand on her back, his breath on her ear, stirred something deep inside her.

“I need to think,” Bess whispered.

“Think about all you need,” Gerri said, rising gracefully. “But remember—true mates are rare. What you and Charov have is special, even if you haven’t fully realized it yet.”

Gerri’s golden eyes twinkled mischievously as she leaned forward, her small frame somehow commanding all the attention in the massive alien suite.

“Is he really that bad though?” she asked, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “Bad enough that you wouldn’t give this relationship a chance to bloom for a few days at least?”

Bess fidgeted with her blouse as she considered the question. The memory of Charov’s heated gaze during their sunset ride flashed through her mind, along with the way her skin had sparked to life whenever he had placed his hands on her.

“I’m not sure about him,” Bess admitted, wincing at how pathetic that sounded. “One minute he’s this cold, formal prince giving me the castle history tour like I’m a school group, and the next he’s telling me about cliff-diving with alien sea monsters.”

“You need to give it time, honey.” Gerri’s voice softened. “Charov is going through a lot with his father dying.”

Bess nodded, recalling the raw pain in Charov’s eyes when he had mentioned his father. “He hinted at that in the transport.”

“And speaking of not seeing the real person,” Gerri continued, folding her hands primly in front of her, “if you think you’re not fully seeing Charov’s true self right now, honey, I guarantee he’s not seeing yours either.”

The crystal flower on the nearby table pulsed with soft blue light, casting shadows across Gerri’s knowing smile.

“Maybe you should let your fun side out to play,” Gerri suggested, her tone light but her eyes penetrating. “Show him there’s more to Bess Campos than insurance claims.”

A hollow laugh escaped Bess’s lips. “I’m not even sure I have a fun side anymore.” She stood and crossed to the window, gazing out at Nova Aurora’s twin moons hanging like jewels above the alien landscape. “Maybe I am just a boring paper pusher who doesn’t deserve the love of someone as amazing as Charov.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Gerri’s exclamation was sharp enough to make Bess turn around. The tiny woman had stepped closer to her, her crimson suit seeming to glow with indignation. “I don’t accept matches who don’t deserve each other.”

Bess blinked, taken aback by the ferocity in Gerri’s voice.

“I see something special in you, Bess Campos,” Gerri said with the utmost confidence. “Something worthy of a queen.”

“But I?—”

“Life has gotten you down.” Gerri reached up to pat Bess’s cheek. “That jerk boss of yours and that soul-sucking job have caused you to lock up your fun-loving side. You just need to reconnect with that part of yourself.”

Bess’s throat tightened. No one had spoken to her like this in years – like they could see beneath her careful veneer of competence to the unfulfilled woman beneath.

“You must have had a fun side as a child or teenager, right?” Gerri prodded.

Memories flooded Bess’s mind – sneaking out of the house at sixteen to go skinny-dipping at the lake with her friends, jumping from the roof of her parents’ garage onto a trampoline at fourteen, hitchhiking to a concert two towns over at seventeen. A smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.

“There it is,” Gerri said, her golden eyes triumphant. “That’s the woman Charov needs to meet – the one who takes risks, who laughs with her whole body, and who doesn’t worry about tomorrow.”

Bess hugged herself, suddenly feeling exposed. When had she lost that girl? Somewhere between college loans and insurance claims, she had packed that vibrant, daring part of herself into a box and shelved it.

“Charov Mavac doesn’t need a paper pusher,” Gerri’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “He needs a woman who can match his passion for life, who can challenge him and surprise him.” She gave Bess a wink that somehow managed to be both innocent and scandalous. “And from what I know of teenage Bess’s adventures, you’re exactly what that bear prince needs.”

Heat flooded Bess’s cheeks as she realized just how much Gerri seemed to know about her past. “How do you?—”

“Never mind all that,” Gerri waved away the question. “What matters is that girl is still inside you. Let her out to play with the prince.”