Chapter 13
STARSTRUCK
Rin felt like she was in a fog as she walked to Sabine and Talor—her adoptive parents, the people she’d known since she was little.
Nearly every memory she had, they were in it.
Sabine had always been a distant, imposing figure, yet she had been there after her parents’ death. And then when Kit had—
No.
Rin ground her teeth so hard her molars ached.
They had been the cause of Kit’s not-death. His death of Soul. For the man with the brown eyes and freckles was a shell—one she wanted to find some way to save. To gather the pieces he’d left scattered amongst the Stars, press them back into his chest, and somehow make him whole again.
If the Stars were listening, she begged them to hear her wishes.
Give me Kit back.
Cyrus pressed against her lower spine when she froze on the dance floor. Couples swirled and swayed, lit beneath the holographic Stars. Their whispers grew louder as Cyrus guided her toward Sabine and Talor, just beyond the fluttering golden strips of silk.
Sabine stood immaculate in a black gown. Her lips were a sharp red slash on her face. Beside her, Talor stood in full uniform, medals gleaming. The freckles across his nose seemed to jump out at her, screaming of Kit.
Rin’s heart beat so fast it was a wonder she didn’t collapse. She wished she would. Then, at least, she wouldn’t have to face them.
Rin fixed her gaze on the butterflies along the hem of her dress, shifting as she walked. She pretended she was somewhere else entirely—with a willow tree.
"Vesperin." Sabine opened her arms wide, beckoning. Her eyes, lined with deep black shadow, settled on Cyrus for a second before she tightened her mask. That was the thing about Sabine. Nothing ever riled her.
Rin didn’t move.
Cyrus’s hand was steady at her back, as though he would support her either way—if she ran, or if she went. Rin thought even if she turned to Cyrus and begged him to wither Sabine—or every guest at the gala—he’d do it for her.
Talor cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back. His jaw was dark with unshaven hair, shadows beneath his eyes, though Rin had a hard time looking at him in the eye for too long or too closely.
"Call it, wife," Rhyden murmured in her ear. It took everything inside Rin not to jolt. "Either way, choose—and fast. Your doctor looks a second away from blowing his cover and going over there to rescue you."
Rin’s gaze snapped upward to the skylight, moonlight spilling in. Right—Rhyden was watching. The reminder steadied her, easing her steps as she broke from her daze and walked toward Sabine.
Sabine’s fingertips grazed Rin’s bare shoulder, then she wrapped her arm around Rin, tugging her closer with a measured sigh.
"Vesperin, it is good to see you." Sabine smelled of sharp medicine and cloying perfume, as if she’d tried to mask the scent of disruption and experimentation. She pulled away, hands on Rin’s shoulders.
"Look at you, you’ve lost so much weight.
Are you eating? Are you sleeping?" She touched Rin’s cheek, then patted a little too sharply, making Rin wince.
Rin realized she was waiting for her to say something. What did she say, what could she say, when the last time she’d seen her adoptive mother, she’d almost shot her?
"Hi," Rin finally settled on, voice a rasp. "I’ve been…" Not okay. She blinked and saw a dark room, electrodes on her body, shocks ripping through her, Kit’s dead, lifeless eyes, Sabine’s thin smile as Rin drank from a glass of water.
Oblivion. Then waking up to blood crusted beneath her nose and a pounding head.
A sudden memory rose to the surface.
A woman who was similar to Sabine.
Aliscent.
She had used Rin, too. Stepped into the role of a parent after the death of her own, then gave her away to the highest bidder.
It had worked out on that life—though she couldn’t remember how she died, at least the man she’d been married off to had been Kit—but this time, there would be no happy endings.
Another memory, another life. The scientists on Tarz, who’d stolen her from her home planet, Luxia, to study her for what she could give them.
She could feel the phantom weight of a diamond tear on her cheek as she’d gripped the bars of the cage.
In that life, Rin’s mind had been addled from not understanding the language, and everything was shrouded by mystery and fog.
She’d given up hope of ever remembering fully.
"I’ve been wonderful." Rin forced a smile onto her lips, its fakeness rivaling the one Sabine wore. "Sabine, Talor, this is my Soulbond, Cyrus Soltren."
Sabine’s eyes widened, and at her side, Talor made a choked sound.
Rin relished the look of shock on their faces. Then, she spied a flash of anger. There and gone. But not hidden quickly enough. Rin had seen it. Here they were, playing games.
Sabine was the first to recover. "What?"
Rin laced her fingers with Cyrus’s. He had been standing just behind her, letting her take the lead—she couldn’t help but think of how much she loved him.
Maybe, when they were done tonight, Rin could let him do what he’d been begging her to.
She flushed at the mere thought of his lips on her there, then shoved the fuzzy image away.
She didn’t know what it’d look or feel like, but she thought she might finally want that, with him, with… all of them.
Cyrus radiated sensual grace. Red briefly filled the air, snapping out, then he reined it back in, a taste of what he could do. The incubus made a low purring sound, leaning down to press his chin to the top of her head in possession, folding himself over her back.
Sabine’s red lips parted, then snapped shut.
"All good?" Rhyden questioned. "I know you can’t speak, but tuck your hair behind your ear if you’re okay."
Rin smiled at the rare worry in the vampire’s tone. She reached up and tucked a curled strand of white hair behind her ear, staring pointedly at her adoptive parents.
"The Prince of Sibeth," Sabine said at last.
Cyrus hummed. "I am no longer a prince. I’m sure you’ve seen the news, no? I abdicated the crown. The reason is standing right here. For the daughter you took in, I gave it all up."
Rin felt Cyrus smile against the top of her hair.
Straightening the lapels of his stiff uniform, Talor waved a hand between Rin and Cyrus, his brown eyes hard. "How did you two meet?"
Cyrus was silent, but she felt his fingers dig into her hip in question.
"On the mission I took on Sibeth. We met at a club on my night off," Rin shared in the careful sort of way a—mostly—falsified story could only be told.
"He was persistent, chasing me. I kept turning him down.
I never wanted to be a princess, certainly not of another planet. " Rin forced herself to laugh.
"I chased her down until she had no choice but to keep me," Cyrus purred, ever the charmer.
Sabine blinked rapidly. Rin knew what it was like to be face-to-face with an incubus for the first time. It was dizzying.
Rin blew out a soft, Starstruck breath. "When he gave up the crown, I realized he was serious about wanting me. So Cyrus is not only my Soulbond, but also the male that I—I chose."
The words were true. So true, in fact, that she felt overcome by the weight of them.
But she wouldn’t cry here. Not in a den of wolves, who wished to prey upon the first slip-up, the first sip of innocence or gentleness. They’d prey upon her vulnerabilities and drain her dry, just like Cyrus could do with his withering.
Her love for him would stay just hers. Forever. As would the careful, fragile home she’d crafted with the other men who shared pieces of her Soul.
"That’s… That is wonderful, Vesperin. I am happy for you—happy for both of you," Sabine said, voice strained. Talor echoed her words in monotone, staring off into the dimly lit crowd.
Just then, President Shin came over, in a bustle of happy titters and claps on the shoulder as he passed by guests. He stood proud, hands clasped before him, as he nodded at the tense group.
"You might want to wrap it up," Rhyden intoned. From the way Cyrus sighed roughly behind her, she knew he’d heard too.
Cyrus grabbed a flute of wine in a thin, petal-shaped glass from a passing server, bringing it to his lips. His head tipped back, exposing the line of his throat. From this angle, only Rin saw the faint movements of his lips as he murmured, "Working on it, vampire."
"Talor, Sabine. Vesperin." President Shin inclined his head, reaching out to clap Talor on the shoulder. He murmured something in Talor’s ear, and Rin studied them closely, watching how Talor stiffened, brown eyes growing wide.
Rin thought she caught just the hint of something, but didn’t understand the meaning.
"—he’s here."
Who? It could mean a million things, but something deep inside her thought she already knew.
Talor turned to Rin. "Vesperin—Cyrus Soltren," he added tersely. "There’s a pressing matter that needs my attention." He leaned down to kiss Sabine’s lips, but she turned her head at the last moment, eyes narrowed, forcing her husband to kiss her cheek instead.
Rin’s gaze tracked where he disappeared to—through fluttering golden silks at another door, different than the one he and Sabine had first arrived through.
Sabine smiled up at the President, and it seemed a little too familiar to Rin.
"The decor is astonishing. The gala preparations committee truly outdid themselves this year," Sabine commented.
President Shin waved a hand. His eyes were tracking over the room, then settled on Cyrus, who was still clinging to Rin’s back. He gave a thin-lipped, tight smile. "I can’t take the credit. The theme was yours—you suggested it over dinner last month."
Sabine gave a perfect laugh, not too long or too high; it was staged to perfection.
"Is there a theme? I didn’t know," Rin interjected, throat tight. "What is it?"