Page 15 of Midnight Star

“I don’t care what you are,” he says, as if he can read my mind. “What matters iswhoyou are. And you, Sapphire...” His fingers brush against my cheek, light as snowfall, but the touch burns hotter than any flame. “I don’t care if you’re fae, or vampire, or anything else. Because I love you. Every single part of you.”

When our lips meet, it’s a collision, a desperate crash of fear and hunger and something far more dangerous than either of us is ready to name. The night air swirlsaround us, responding to our combined magic—ice, water, and air dancing together in perfect harmony. And as his hands find my waist, pulling me closer, I sink into him, drowning in this single moment.

I wish it could last forever.

Because it’s not just a kiss—it’s everything.

A promise. An apology. A declaration.

“I love you, too,” I breathe when we finally part. “So much.”

His forehead presses against mine, and then he’s picking me up as if I weigh nothing and carrying me to the igloo. It glows softly in the early morning light, the power of this moment transforming it from a simple refuge into something magical.

But the most magical thing about it is that it was built byus,from the ground up.

Which makes it something that will always be ours.

Zoey

Block it out.

Over the past few days of having Prince Aerix of the Night Court drinking from my neck every evening for breakfast—yes, getting used to a nocturnal schedule is as confusing as it sounds—that mantra has kept me sane. Kept me from slipping into the haze he seems to want me in.

I can’t let him in. Not in my mind, not in my emotions, not in the way my body reacts to his touch.

He can’t hurt me emotionally if I don’tlethim hurt me emotionally.

As he drinks, I keep my eyes closed, trying to distract myself by thinking about the others I’ve become close to in this place. The ones who make this gilded prison feel a little less suffocating.

Sophia—also one of Aerix’s—who finds any brightside she can around here, who welcomed me without hesitation.

Elijah—one of the queen’s—who surprises me with his depth, his thoughtful silences heavy with things he never says aloud.

Isla, one of the king’s, who’s far sharper and fierier than she should be for her young age.

Matt, Sapphire’s ex-boyfriend, who I’ve barely gotten a chance to talk to, since he’s rarely around. He’s so obsessed with the queen that she keeps him in her quarters far more often than what’s normal around here. And when heisaround, he avoids me at all costs.

Then, of course, there’s Jake. One of Princess Cierra’s, who resembles my ex from home. Their similar looks drew me to him at first. However, the more I get to know him, the more I realize how different they are. Mainly because Jake is simply… simple. He’s not stupid, but he’s not the sharpest, either.

Running through the people I think I can trust in this place helps distract me from Aerix’s fangs in my neck—from the dizzy euphoria that comes with feeding. The euphoria I pretend doesn’t exist.

The sensation is a betrayal. My body betraying my mind, and my instincts betraying my will.

Because it makes me want to relax. To sink into the pull of him and give in completely.

But I won’t.

I refuse to give him that sort of power over me.

When he finally pulls away, the loss of contact is a shock. Like being wrenched from a dream I never meant to fall into.

I push myself up in the bed as much as I can manage, and his midnight eyes study me as he moves to sit on the side of the bed. The way the light from the enchanted chandelier floating near the ceiling catches in their inky depths reminds me of the night sky before a storm. Beautiful and dangerous in equal measure.

“You’re being particularly cold today,” he observes, and while his voice is smooth, there’s something else beneath it. Something sharp. Something unmet. Like a hunter who doesn’t like when his prey stops running. “Anything on your mind?”

From the concerned way he says it, a person might think he actually cares.

“Just tired.” I shrug, keeping my voice deliberately flat as I glance over at the nightstand, where a glass of juice awaits. “No cookies today?”

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