You were Lucien’s mate—an unfortunate fact neither of you had ever learned to accept.

From the moment the bond snapped into place, it had felt like a cruel joke. You clashed over everything: values, loyalties, tempers. Where Lucien was sharp-tongued and guarded, you were stubborn and unyielding. Every conversation became a battle, every silence thick with things left unsaid. You couldn’t understand why the Cauldron—ancient, all-knowing, supposedly wise—would ever think the two of you belonged together.

Tonight only made that bitterness worse.

Starfall painted the sky in rivers of light, glowing spirits streaking overhead as laughter and music filled the air. It was meant to be magical. Romantic. A night for wishes and wonder.

Instead, you stood at the edge of the celebration with your jaw tight, watching Lucien dance with another Fae.

They were close—too close. Their hands rested easily on each other, their laughter effortless in a way you’d never shared with him. Lucien’s russet eye gleamed in the starlight, his sharp smile softer than you’d ever seen it turned toward you. The bond between you tugged painfully in your chest, a quiet reminder that no matter how much you resented it, you felt everything.

He hadn’t even looked in your direction.

You told yourself you didn’t care. That you had no right to. After all, neither of you had ever claimed the bond, never acknowledged it beyond clipped arguments and tense avoidance. And yet, something ugly and aching twisted in your stomach as Starfall spirits drifted between you and the dance floor, illuminating the sight of Lucien’s hand resting at someone else’s waist.

So this was how it would be, then.

Bound by fate. Separated by choice. And standing alone beneath a sky full of falling stars, wondering which hurt more.