“Is that true?” The elder, who had witnessed six hundred years, shot up from his seat with the unrestrained joy of a child. “This is wonderful news! It confirms that Ms. Ava Sterling’s capacity for mental solace is genuinely effective for His Majesty.”
William Fitzgerald didn’t hesitate. He accessed his lightcore and transferred a staggering sum of fifty million star coins to Ava. “Praise the Beast God for guiding His Majesty to the lady who can provide such necessary comfort.”
Upstairs, Ava stumbled back into her bedroom, completely drained. The idea of making breakfast felt impossible. She grabbed a nutrient pack, drank it quickly, and collapsed into bed. Sleep claimed her the instant her head touched the pillow.
Her mental energy was so depleted that she slept deeply, completely unaware of the soft chimes from her lightcore. It rang several times, but she remained lost in her dreams.
On a distant, nameless desolate planet, a man with intense violet eyes glared at the flickering signal on his lightcore, deep frustration lining his features.
He had spent the last month on this barren world, relentlessly hunting Level 8 beasts. The planet was a technological dead zone; his lightcore could barely maintain a network link. Whenever it connected, it was only for a few fleeting seconds before the signal died again.
Today, luck finally favored Nathaniel Reed. A stable signal held. His pulse quickened as a notification from the Royal Consulate of Matches’ Beastmate System appeared.
Cold-blooded therian males faced immense challenges in relationships. Their beast forms were often too intimidating, causing many female Etherians to avoid them. Even when matched, if a lady discovered her match was cold-blooded, she usually dissolved the bond immediately.
That’s why, after a match, these males typically rushed to their lady’s side, eager to charm and woo her. But Nathaniel? Three full days had passed since the match, and he hadn’t made a single move. No visit. Not even a message.
Perfect. Ms. Sterling must be furious.
Seizing the connection, Nathaniel quickly tapped Ava’s contact, initiating a lightcall projection. It rang. And rang. No answer.
His stomach dropped.
Yes. She was definitely angry with him.
He tried calling again, but the signal vanished completely.
Nathaniel stared at the dead screen, his frustration boiling over.
He leapt down from his perch in a tree and strode over to his team, who were still tracking beasts. “Mission is suspended. Pack everything. We depart in one hour,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The journey back from this remote planet would take at least twenty days. Cold-blooded therians weren’t exactly sought after. By the time he returned… would Ms. Sterling even want him anymore?
Ava slept soundly through the night. When she woke the next morning, she felt refreshed. Her mental power was fully restored, her body humming with energy again.
She got up, washed, changed, and before heading downstairs, checked her lightcore.
Her usually quiet match list was now active. Besides Julian, the constant schemer always angling for money, another name glowed brightly. Nathaniel Reed had tried to reach her via lightcall. She’d been too deep in sleep to hear it.
Nine matches. One dissolved, one unfriended. One had turned into a transactional arrangement, and another was perpetually asking for funds.
They say lightning never strikes the same place twice. Yet here she was, with three bizarre matches in a row. Surely the fourth wouldn’t be just as chaotic?
She hesitated, looking at the three missed calls, then decided to return the call.
A moment later, the system chimed. ‘Lightcore System: The account you have dialed is currently outside the network coverage zone.’
Ava frowned at the message.
The lightcore network spanned over ten thousand planets across the interstellar realm. How could anyone be out of coverage? Was he off-grid? It suddenly made sense why he hadn’t contacted her.
Forget it. He probably couldn’t reach her anytime soon anyway.
Closing Nathaniel’s chat, she saw a flood of messages from Julian Hawthorne.
He had written: ‘Ms. Sterling, I miss you terribly. I long to see you, but I have no star coins for the starrail fare.’
He followed it with a pouting emoji, designed to tug at heartstrings.
‘Ms. Sterling, why no reply? Do you not like me?’
Then another: ‘I’ve thought of a way to earn coins. I’m heading to the Umbral Wilds south of Caelum Prime to hunt beasts.’
‘Once I slay enough and earn the coins, I’ll come to you.’
Finally, he sent another emoji, this one of an obedient boy, playing his part perfectly.
Hours later, more messages from Julian arrived.
First, a photo of a slain Rank 3 beast. Then the text: ‘Look, Ms. Sterling, I killed one. Sadly, I’m injured. I can only handle Rank 3 beasts now. Wait for me. Once I kill a few more, I’ll come to you.’
Then, just an hour ago, two more images from a hospital.
Ava stared at the 6D projection, feeling as if he stood right before her.
A man with long white hair reclined in a hospital bed, wearing a loose white patient gown. His face was pale, marked by two faint scratches. His vulpine red eyes glistened with unshed tears. His delicate, androgynous beauty was accentuated by a fragile vulnerability. His long white hair spilled messily over the gown, the blood-red tips like crimson threads woven into his weakness.
Beautiful. Strikingly so. His flawless features held no hint of femininity.
If he weren’t constantly scheming to con her, if those calculating vulpine eyes didn’t always seem to be assessing her worth, Ava might have been captivated at first sight. Star coins? He could have had all he wanted.
But his acting was terrible. Ava, hardened by past deceptions, saw through the fake injuries instantly.
Sometimes she hated her own rationality. But more than that, she hated being lied to.
Julian had sent the photos. When she didn’t reply, more messages followed.
He wrote: ‘Ms. Sterling, please don’t worry about me. I was just a little careless last night while hunting, given my injuries, and got hurt again. Fortunately, someone saved me. I’m receiving treatment now and will be discharged soon. It’s just… all the star coins I earned went to the hospital bill. Now I have no way to come see you. What should I do?’
He sent another emoji, trying to appear as pitiful as possible.
Not once did he directly ask for money. Yet every message carried that unspoken plea.
Ava pretended not to notice. She replied: ‘How did you get hurt like that? It breaks my heart to see.’
She added: ‘There’s no rush to see me. Since the Beast God matched us, we will meet in time.’
Finally, she texted: ‘Focus on healing. Come when you’re well. Don’t worry, I won’t dissolve the match just because you’re delayed.’
If he wanted to play games, she would play along. In the end, she wouldn’t be the one losing out.