Page 56 of Stolen Star

He studies me, perfectly still, a predator assessing its prey.

But I’m not prey anymore.

I drank the predator’s blood tonight. That makes me… well, I don’t know what it technically makes me, but I know it makes me feelpowerful.

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking?” His voice drops lower, the temperature in the room following suit. “The transformation could kill you.”

“It didn’t kill Evangeline.” I counter, standing my ground, even as his magic turns the air colder around us. “It didn’t killyou.”

“I was born winter fae,” he reminds me, a dangerous edge to his tone. “You’re human. Mortal. Your body might not?—“

“I don’t care.” The heat of my conviction pushes back against his cold. “I’d rather die attempting to become something more than live forever as something less. Plus… I’m mortal, Aerix. You’ll be here in this world forever, but if I stay this way, I’ll only ever be a flicker of candlelight in your life, gone before I ever truly had a chance to burn. I’ll grow old. I’lldie.And all the while, you’ll be the exact same.”

Something shifts in his expression—a wave ofrespect, perhaps even admiration. Then, his lips curl into a slow, calculating smirk.

“You’re not asking me,” he says, realization dawning. “You’re telling me.”

I nod once, refusing to back down.

His smirk widens as he closes the distance between us, wind swirling around him. His fingers trace the line of my throat where some of his blood still stains my skin, and then they trail down to my wrist—to my pulse point, where my heart hammers against his touch.

“It’s already changing you,” he murmurs, his breath cool against my ear. “My blood. My power.” His fingertip traces the vein in my wrist, frost forming and melting with each circle. “You feel it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Because ever since I drank from him at the fountain, something’s been different. My senses sharper, colors more vivid, sounds clearer. And when he touches me, it sets my skin on fire in the most pleasurable way ever.

His wings extend slightly, feathers rustling. “And you want more?” he asks.

“I want all of it.” I reach up, my fingers finding the base of his wings, my breaths shallow with satisfaction when he doesn’t pull away. “I want to stand beside you, not behind you. I want the court to fear me as they fear you, just like they did tonight.”

His eyes darken further, his grip on my wristtightening as frost patterns crawl along my skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still cold enough to make me gasp.

“Do you understand what you’re asking of me? Truly?” He pulls me closer, until there’s barely a breath between us.

I think of Presque Isle, of the small-town life I once had. Of Sapphire, my best friend and soul sister, who I may never see again. Of the human world with its mundane problems and petty concerns.

Then I think of the Night Court. Of the respect in the eyes of the night fae tonight. Of the power that surged through me when I drank Aerix’s blood. Of the thrill that shot through me when that woman handed me Aerix’s dagger in the streets, and when Lady Reesia crumpled to the ground, her arrogance extinguished forever.

“I know exactly what it means,” I tell him, my free hand sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “And I want it. All of it. I love you, Aerix. And I want you—forever.”

The frost patterns crawling along my skin still as his eyes widen slightly, his wings quivering behind him.

“You love me,” he says softly, as if it’s a revelation for him, even though I’ve said it a hundred times before.

But something in his voice is different this time. Like it hurts to hear it. Like he’s afraid it might not last.

“Yes. I love you, Aerix Nightborne,” I repeat, as if this might be the time when he’ll fully believe me. “And I want to be yours—truly yours—forever.”

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. But I can feel the exact moment something inside him fractures. Like he’s been waiting for this, dreading this, needing this—and now that it’s here, he doesn’t know how to hold it without breaking.

Then, his lips are finding mine with desperate intensity. This kiss is different from all the others. It’s not just possessive or demanding, butsearching,as if he’s trying to taste the truth of my words on my tongue.

I pour everything into this kiss—all my fear, all my hope, and all my love—showing him what I can’t find the words to say. That I choose him. That I choose this life. That I’m ready to leave my humanity behind. That I’ve alreadyleftit behind—from the moment my dagger broke through Henry’s skin and I watched him die at my feet.

When we break apart, his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, his breathing uneven.

“You mean it,” he says, wonder threading through his voice. “You want this. You wantme.”

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