Page 37 of Stolen Star

He steps closer, his chest pressing against my back, his wings curving forward. “Wait here,” he says, pulling himself away from me and walking toward his dresser.

He returns with a silver hairbrush, its handle inlaid with what looks like obsidian. Without a word, he turns me away from the mirror and carefully begins to undo my messy braids. His touch is gentle as he works out the tangles, starting at the ends and making his way up to my scalp.

The intimacy of the gesture transports me back to my first days in the Night Court—to the throne room when King Thanatos unbraided my hair with deliberate cruelty, stripping away my dignity with each stroke.

I felt violated then. Exposed, scared, and powerless.

“You’re remembering something,” Aerix observes, his fingers never pausing in their work.

“The king,” I admit, since there’s no point in hiding itfrom him. “When I first arrived. You saw it—he did this, too.”

Aerix’s hands still, and his magic sharpens, the air turning brittle around us.

“Not like this,” he finally says, resuming his brushing. The strokes are slower now, more deliberate. “Never like this.”

“No,” I agree, leaning into his touch. “That was about breaking me. This feels like...”

I trail off, uncertain how to describe the difference.

“Like worship,” he finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because that’s exactly what it is. You’re mine to protect. Mine to display. Mine to…”

I tense, waiting for him to say it.

His tolove.

It doesn’t come.

It never comes from him first.

The silence hangs between us, his unfinished sentence leaving a void I’ve grown used to filling. Every time, it’s the same dance. I say it first, he echoes it back, and then he asks me to say it again—as if he didn’t believe me the first time.

I look up at him through the mirror, watching his wings shift behind him, betraying emotions his face won’t show.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell him, running my hands over the front of the dress, feeling the way the diamonds catchon my fingertips. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn. I love it. Just like I loveyou.”

His eyes darken at my words, and his wings extend slightly, feathers rustling with a sound like distant thunder.

“You’ll stay with me?” He places the brush down on the table and lets his fingers graze my waist, as if he wants to hold tightly, but can’t bring himself to do it. “No matter what?”

The question beneath the question. The fear beneath the demand. It’s there in the tension of his wings and the slight tremble of his hands.

“Yes,” I promise. “I’m yours by choice, not by force. And I never want to let go.”

He exhales, a sound of relief so slight I almost miss it. Then he moves my hair aside, exposing the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. His lips brush my skin, and I feel the sharp graze of his fangs, not quite breaking the surface, but enough to steal my breath.

“You’re meant for me, Zoey. Designed for me by the gods themselves,” he whispers against my skin, his air magic cooling the spot where his mouth just was. “I love you more than you’ll ever know. You’re in my veins and my bones, woven into the fabric of my soul. There isn’t a realm I wouldn’t tear apart to keep you. And now, you’re ready for me to show all of them that you’re mine.”

ZOEY

Thirty minutes later,I’m following Aerix down the palace’s grand staircase, my fingers gripping the railing for support as I try to adjust to the height of the heels he’s given me to match the dress. The beautiful crystal chandeliers float overhead, each movement making the diamonds in my bodice flash in the light.

Guards bow their heads as we pass. Some look at me in surprise, others with barely concealed disdain. But not one dares to hold my gaze for more than a second.

As we approach the massive front doors of the palace, my heart pounds so hard I’m sure Aerix can hear it. Because I haven’t been outside these walls in weeks. Time has become almost nonexistent in this eternal night.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we step into the open air of the courtyard.

The night is alive with smells and sounds I’d almost forgotten—frost-tipped flowers, the metallic tang of the blood moat, and somewhere beyond, music.

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