Page 9
Story: Stolen Star
“It will take time.” He joins me on the bench, air magic swirling around him, caressing my skin in cool currents. “But with enough practice, you’ll be a master in no time.”
In no time.
The words sink into my stomach.
How much time does he think I have? How long does he plan to keep me here, trapped in these beautiful rooms with nothing but games, books, and artistic pursuits to fill my days?
“I brought you something,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a narrow velvet-lined box.
I lean forward in curiosity, studying it. It’s not small enough to be a ring. A bracelet, maybe? A necklace?
“What is it?” I ask, taking the box and feeling its weight in my hand.
“Open it and see.”
I lift the lid, and nestled against dark velvet is a handcrafted, obsidian fountain pen that gleams in the soft light of the chamber.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, lifting it from the box and admiring my newest trinket. Something about it looks expensive. Dangerous. Magical. More so than anything else he’s given me so far—and he’s given me alot.
Aerix’s lips curve into that smile I’ve loved for longer than I care to admit.
“It isn’t filled yet,” he says, and then he reaches into his pocket again, retrieving a slim, empty crystal vial. “Retrieve your dagger.”
The world tilts. He can’t mean…
But Aerix doesn’t like hesitation.
So, I walk to the desk where I keep the weapon I was given in the Winter Court, when Riven sent me and Sapphire on those three deadly trials. The one I used to attack Aerix in the bunker. The one he promptly took away from me… then eventually returned, just in time for me to kill Henry.
But when I touch it, I don’t feel guilt, or shame.
I feelpowerful.
“The ink chamber,” Aerix explains, watching me closely, “is meant to be filled with your blood.”
My heart clenches.
“My blood?” I repeat.
“Yes, your blood,” he says, his gaze so intense that I tighten my grip on my dagger just so I can stay standing. “So that everything you create carries your essence. Your truth. Your soul.”
I stare at the tiny glass reservoir of the pen, my heart pounding so hard that I’m sure Aerix can hear it.
He’s watching me. Always watching. Waiting to see if I’ll flinch. Break. Refuse.
But I won’t.
So, with a steadying breath, I press the tip of my dagger to my index finger. The pain is sharp and clean, and blood wells instantly, bright crimson against my pale skin.
Aerix inhales. A sharp, almost imperceptible sound—like a man drowning in restraint.
He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t taste. He just… waits.
Go ahead,his nod seems to say.
I can’t wait any longer. If I do…
I don’t think about it further. I just hold my hand over the tiny vial, letting my blood drip into the glass, watching it hit the bottom.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9 (Reading here)
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
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- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
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- Page 59
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- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82