Page 21 of Midnight Star

“I’ll find a way to help you,” I say, even though I have no idea how. “I promise.”

His breathing evens out as he drifts off, and I sit there for a moment, watching him.

At home, I never liked him. In high school, he was full of himself. Then he turned bitter when he didn’t get a football scholarship and therefore couldn’t go to college. He treated Sapphire like she was something he wanted to own. Hot and cold all the time, as toxic as all else.

But now, he’s my lifeline to home. He’s the reminder that the life I had before coming here is more than a distant dream. He’s the only thing familiar in this place that’s more dangerously fantastical than I could have ever imagined.

I have to help him.

Eventually, I rise and leave the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

Henry’s still lounging in the suite’s common area, asmug expression on his face. I’m pretty sure it permanently lives there.

“Didn’t like what you saw?” he mocks.

I glare at him. “Shut up, Henry.”

“Careful, Zoey.” He smirks and leans back in his chair. “You wouldn’t want to make an enemy out of me.”

Seriously? That’s the best he can do?

“If you have to tell people to be afraid of you, then you’re doing it wrong.” I smirk right back at him and turn on my heel, storming out of the suite before he can reply.

Henry and whatever game he’s playing are the least of my problems. Because I have to figure out a way to save Matt.

Before it’s too late.

Zoey

After lunch,I go back to my room, retrieve my oil painting supplies, and return to the courtyard.

There are a few others around. Two of Malakai’s girls—Katerina and Lacey—playing cards with Isla and Sebastian. Aurora’s reading, and Elijah’s sitting at a table working on his pieces for our chess board.

Elijah looks at me, and I assume he wants me to join him and work on my own piece—a knight. But I shake my head no and head to the opposite side of the courtyard, to the farthest away fountain, and set up my materials. Distance feels safer. I need space to breathe, space to think, and space to shake off the lingering effects of Aerix’s presence.

I’d only just started painting the stone basin of the fountain, so I’ll be busy with this for a while.

Eventually, after a few hours have passed witheveryone else thankfully leaving me alone, I reach the part of the painting I’ve been avoiding. The liquid inside the fountain. A mix of water and blood. The deep crimson I’ve mixed in my palette is almost too perfect, too real, like fresh-spilled blood pooling in the water.

As I dip my brush into the paint, memories come rushing back. Uninvited, unwelcome, yet impossible to push away.

The whisper of his breath against my neck. The press of his body, cool and unyielding. His fangs sinking into my skin. The sharp sting, the dizzying pleasure, the way my heart hammered against my ribs as if it didn’t know whether to race toward him or away.

I hate how his feeding lingers, not just in my body, but in my mind.Hate how the sensation of him remains long after he’s gone, curling around my thoughts like an intoxicating mist.

My hands move faster, almost franticly, the brushstrokes sharp and erratic. As if I can paint him out of my head. As if I can drown out the sensation of him, and erase the way his midnight eyes see through me—as if he already owns the pieces of me I’m trying to keep for myself.

“Zoey,” a voice cuts through my haze, pulling me back into reality.

Aethelthryth.

I must have been so absorbed in my painting that I didn’t see her approach.

She’s usually composed, but there’s something urgent in the way she’s looking down at me right now.

“What?” I ask, setting the brush down.

“It’s time to go back to your room,” she says. “You need to get ready.”

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