Page 47 of Stolen Star

“Well,” he says, his voice like gravel wrapped in silk, “what have we here?”

His fingers reach out to cup my chin, tilting my face to examine Lady Reesia’s blood on my skin. His touch is cold and clinical—nothing like the possessive heat of Aerix’s.

I don’t flinch. Not this time. Instead, I hold his gaze, refusing to look away. Because I’m not the terrified girl he examined in the throne room that first day, praying he didn’t claim me as his pet.

I’m something else entirely now.

“Your hair is exquisite tonight,” he observes, and much to my relief, he doesn’t try to touch it. “Like inky starlight in the darkness of our court.”

“Aerix styled it, Your Majesty,” I reply, careful to keep my voice steady.

His lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You wear our darkness well,” he finally says, releasing my chin and turning to Aerix. “Keep her and do whatever you want with her.”

It’s not approval—not exactly. It’s permission. As if I’m a finely wrapped weapon he’s allowing Aerix to wield. Not a woman, not a force, but aprize.

But it’s enough. It’s a recognition of my place in this court, however grudging.

With a final appraising look, the king turns and walks away.

Aurora gives me a subtle nod before following him.Good job,it seems to say.You learned well.

The moment they disappear, Aerix pulls me against him, his wings curving forward to cocoon us in shadowed privacy.

“They all see it now,” he murmurs for me—andonlyfor me. “You were never meant to be anything but mine.”

His words sink into me, as potent as his blood and as binding as his magic. And as I look around at the night fae who now watch me with cautious respect instead of open disdain, I can’t help but think he’s right.

I was made for this darkness. For him. For everything the Night Court represents.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

SAPPHIRE

The plane touches down,and my stomach lurches at the impact, my hands gripping the armrests so tightly that water leaks between my fingers.

I’m in another country. Not just a different state, but an entirely differentcountry.We flew across anocean.And now I’m in Sicily, Italy, thousands of miles from the small corner of the world I’ve ever known.

“Mount Etna awaits,” Riven says beside me, his voice low and steady.

But I can’t tear my gaze away from the scene in front of us to look at him. Instead, I keep staring out the window at the landscape that looks nothing like Maine—the rolling hills, the Mediterranean vegetation, and the quality of light that seems completely foreign.

I’ve only ever seen places like this in the movies Zoeyand I would watch on our sleepovers, dreaming of adventures I didn’t think I’d ever have.

“I never thought I’d leave Presque Isle,” I whisper, mostly to myself. “And now I’m inItaly.”

Riven’s fingers find mine, his frost soothing against my skin. “It can be our first of many international adventures, Starlight,” he says, and even though this particular adventure involves entering a dangerous volcano to retrieve an ancient artifact, I smile.

T meets us at the cabin door, her wild hair moving in a breeze that doesn’t seem to touch anything else.

“This is where I leave you.” Her strange eyes shift between storm-gray and electric blue as she looks at each of us in turn. “I’ll be waiting here when you return with the Ember.”

“We appreciate your assistance,” Riven says formally, but there’s an edge to his voice that warns against further commentary.

T gives us a mocking bow, the air crackling around her as she steps aside to let us disembark.

The drive to Mount Etna takes just over an hour, and I spend most of it with my face practically pressed against the window, absorbing every vivid detail rushing past. Compared to the simple, muted buildings of Presque Isle, the architecture here feels alive, full of intricate stonework and painted in warm Mediterranean colors. Even the landscape shines with color andmotion, from lush groves of citrus trees to cobblestone streets filled with people dressed in clothing brighter and more expressive than anything I’ve seen back home.

It’s so magical that if someone told me we’d already crossed back into the mystical realm, I’d believe them.

---