The Rejected Beast Mate: I Am The Royal Heiress

The command center of the Starfall Royal Academy was a fortress of black steel and glowing data streams. Suddenly, the air inside turned as heavy as lead. Every technician, every general, stopped breathing.

They stared in absolute reverence at the two figures standing before the main warp-comms screen.

Interstellar Empress Eleanor Starfall gripped the edge of the console. Even in her fifties, her beauty was a sharp, terrifying weapon. Right now, she stared at Quentin's bloodied, frantic face on the screen.

Beside her, her husband, Richard Starfall, placed a heavy, steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Repeat that," Eleanor whispered.

Quentin sobbed on the other end of the galaxy. "Yes, Your Majesty! The genetic map is a one-hundred-percent match! It is the Princess! She is alive!"

Eleanor's knees buckled slightly. The cold, untouchable facade she had maintained for twenty years shattered into pieces. Her eyes instantly filled with red, burning tears.

Her daughter. The child she thought had burned to ash in that pirate raid two decades ago. She was alive.

Richard didn't waste a second. He turned his head slightly toward his adjutant. "Lock onto Quentin Starfall's coordinates. The Vane Fleet's medical planet? Hmph. That upstart." The disgust in Richard's voice was palpable.

Eleanor sucked in a jagged breath. "My baby... how is she? Is she safe?"

Quentin's face twisted with a mix of rage and deep humiliation.

"Your Highness... she just gave birth to a female cub. But her partner, the Vane Fleet Commander, was absent. He is currently parading around the Capital Star with another female!"

Quentin slammed his fist against his broken console.

"Furthermore, the Princess was misdiagnosed as an E‑grade. Vane couldn’t care less whether she lived or died, and is even using money as bait to stop her from terminating their matching contract!"

The temperature in the command center plummeted below freezing. A terrifying, suffocating mental pressure exploded from Eleanor's body. The male officers in the room instantly felt their knees buckle, their instincts screaming at them to submit to the overwhelming power.

"He. Dares." Eleanor ground out the words. Each syllable was a poisoned blade.

Richard tightened his grip on his wife's shoulder. His eyes were flat, dead pools of black. "Eleanor. Breathe. We need to bring our daughter home first."

He turned fully to his adjutant. His voice was calm, but the words carried the weight of a planetary execution.

"Transmit my orders. Initiate Project Eclipse. The First, Third, and Seventh Star Destroyer Fleets will undergo immediate spatial warp to the target coordinates. Total blockade of the Vane Fleet medical planet and all surrounding shipping lanes."

The adjutant swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. "Your Majesty, that is the equivalent of declaring an interstellar war!"

Richard stared at him. "My daughter is suffering there. This is an interstellar war."

"Activate the highest-grade stealth fields," Eleanor added, her voice shaking with raw fury. "I don't want anyone to know we are coming. I want to see with my own eyes who dares to bully my flesh and blood."

The orders flashed across the network.

Light-years away, on the outer orbit of the Vane medical planet, two patrol ships drifted lazily through the void. Inside the cockpit, a radar operator sipped his synthetic coffee, bored out of his mind.

Suddenly, his primary screen exploded into a mess of white static.

"What the hell? Radar interference?" He tapped the glass.

The co-pilot sat up straight. "Mine too! All comms frequencies just got sliced!"

Before they could run a diagnostic, the dark space outside their viewport began to warp.

It looked like a massive, invisible hand was tearing a hole in the fabric of the universe. Out of the black rift slid a ship. Then another. Then ten. Then a hundred.

Massive, pitch-black Star Destroyers materialized in total silence. Painted on their armored hulls was the golden emblem of a cascading waterfall of stars—the crest of the Starfall Royal Academy. The true titans who controlled the galaxy's mental energy lifelines.

Each destroyer was ten times the size of Vane's flagship. They formed a suffocating, impenetrable net of absolute destruction around the tiny medical planet.

The radar operator dropped his coffee. The hot liquid splashed over his boots, but he couldn't feel it. He couldn't breathe.

At the front of the formation, the Royal Flagship hovered. The heavy particle cannons on its bow glowed with a lethal blue light, locked directly onto the medical facility below. They didn't fire.

They just waited, a silent promise of total annihilation.

Down on the planet, the Vane fleet personnel continued to mock the E-grade female who was about to be discarded. They had no idea that the apocalypse was already floating above their heads.

In his ruined lab, Quentin looked at the encrypted confirmation code on his datapad. He let out a long, shaky breath.

He stood up, ignoring his bleeding hands, and walked toward Lyra's room. The fate of the Princess was about to change.