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TWENTY-ONE

B ess stretched across the vast expanse of Charov’s bed, her hand sliding over the cool sheets where his warmth had been. The morning light filtered through ornate curtains and cast his royal chambers in a golden glow that highlighted the luxurious furnishings. Her fingers found a folded note on his pillow.

Had to do more funeral stuff and didn’t want to wake you. Thank you for staying with me last night. -C

She pressed the note to her chest, remembering how he had broken down in the woods—the way his massive frame had roared into the night sky exposed and vulnerable. The memory of holding his powerful body as he trembled with grief sent a protective surge through her.

“Who would’ve thought I’d be comforting an alien bear prince?” she whispered to herself.

Slipping from between the silken sheets, Bess found her purple dress from yesterday draped over a chair. She smoothed the fabric, marveling at how the Nova Auroran textile shifted colors in the light—deep violet to almost midnight blue.

As she dressed, her mind wandered to Gerri’s offer from yesterday to take her back to Earth. The decision to stay had come so naturally, surprising even herself.

“I couldn’t leave him now,” she murmured to herself, fastening the delicate closures of the dress. “Not when he needs me.”

The night before had been intense. After their walk in the woods, Charov had led her to his chambers without a word. She had expected him to avoid her, to retreat into his solitude. Instead, he stripped bare and asked her to as well, then requested:

“Just hold me. Please.”

And she had. All night, his massive naked frame had curled against her naked body, his face buried in her neck, his powerful arms wrapped around her as if she were an anchor in a storm. She had stroked his hair, humming softly as his breathing eventually steadied into sleep.

Bess padded across the polished floor toward the door, pausing to look back at the rumpled bed. It struck her that she’d never seen him look so unguarded as he had last night—this man who’d saved children from wild beasts without hesitation, who carried the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders.

She slipped into the hallway, nodding to the guards who maintained stoic expressions despite surely knowing where she had spent the night. The castle was hushed, draped in mourning, yet somehow felt more like home than her apartment back on Earth ever had.

As she made her way back to her guest suite, Bess realized something had completely shifted inside her. The woman who had allowed her boss to walk all over her would never recognize this version of herself—the one who’d held a grieving shifter prince through the night, the one who’d chosen to stay on an alien planet because someone truly needed her.

She did these things not because she had to. Because she actually wanted to.

Bess traced her finger along the enormous stone windowsill, feeling the cool, polished granite beneath her touch. The royal funeral procession had finally concluded that afternoon, a somber five-day affair that had drained the color from Charov’s face with each passing hour. The entire Mavac Territory had come to pay respects, leaving the castle grounds overflowing with mourners dressed in deep blue—Nova Aurora’s color of remembrance.

She leaned against the window frame, watching Queen Zyre’s caravan disappear into the night, heading toward her country estate. The widowed queen had barely spoken today, her grief a palpable force that seemed to bend light around her.

“Will you be needing anything else for your tea, Lady Bess?”

Bess turned to find Emesyn standing in the doorway, holding a tray of steaming Nova Auroran herbal tea that smelled like cinnamon and something unfamiliar but pleasant.

“Just your company,” Bess said, gesturing to the plush seating area. “I’ve been rattling around this wing alone since Gerri left yesterday.”

Emesyn smiled, setting down the tray. “The king has been quite occupied with the transition council these past few days.”

Bess felt a flutter in her stomach at hearing Charov being called “King.” Though they’d shared his bed that second night after King Sawyr’s death, Charov had been sleeping in his royal study since, often working through the night.

“It feels strange,” Bess admitted, sinking into the velvet armchair and pouring the tea. “Being here without really knowing my place.”

Emesyn’s eyes widened. “But my lady, you’re to be our new queen.”

Bess stirred her tea, watching the swirling liquid. “I’m not entirely sure of that. We’ve barely spoken since... well, everything happened so quickly.”

“If I may be so bold,” Emesyn said, perching on the edge of her seat, “Gerri Wilder has a 100 percent success rate. Everyone knows this.”

“So I’ve heard,” Bess said. “But what does that actually mean?”

Emesyn’s face lit up. “Oh! Well, take King Alyx and Queen Bella—they rule all of Nova Aurora, you know. Gerri matched them ten years ago. Queen Bella was from Earth too! They’re deliriously happy.”

“Really?” Bess leaned forward.

“Absolutely! And there’s Chancellor Vorn and his mate Lexi—she found them as well. And my own sister’s best friend was matched with the Alpha of the Southern Territories.” Emesyn counted on her fingers. “Oh! And Prince Dravon of the Eastern Isles and his Earth mate Callie. They have twin cubs now.”

Bess’s mind whirled. “All happy?”

“Blissfully so.” Emesyn’s eyes softened. “When His Majesty looks at you... it’s the same way all those mates look at each other. When he thinks no one is watching.”

Heat climbed Bess’s neck. “He watches me like how?”

“Like you’re water in the desert.”

Bess nearly spilled her tea from embarrassment.

Emesyn giggled. “Oh, and when a shifter claims someone as their mate—especially an alpha like our king—it’s forever.”

Forever. The word echoed in Bess’s mind. One week ago, she was on Earth stuck in a terrible loop of self-induced misery, and now she was potentially weeks away from becoming queen of an alien shifter territory.

Yet somehow, that felt less terrifying than the thought of returning to Earth without Charov.

Bess woke up earlier than usual the next morning, restless energy pulsing through her veins. After dressing in a simple dress that complemented her eyes, she wandered the castle corridors with purpose. Three days had passed since she’d had any meaningful time with Charov. She understood his duties kept him busy, but the distance gnawed at her.

“Excuse me,” she stopped a passing staff member. “Where might I find King Charov this morning?”

“His Majesty is in the royal study, my lady. Has been since before dawn.”