Page 15

Zoey

The dark angel refuses to speak to me as we run on the jaguar’s back through the forest.

It should be freezing. But, somehow, the air around us remains charged with warmth. A small miracle I’m grateful for, given how much my body aches after so many hours on Ghost’s back.

We stop in front of a snowbank.

He raises his hand, and the snow moves, revealing stone steps leading down into darkness. Then, he dismounts and unties the rope holding me to the jaguar, although he keeps some of it around me, holding onto it like a leash.

“Inside,” he commands, gesturing toward the steps.

I plant my feet firmly in the snow. “Not a chance.”

There’s no way I’m following this guy into a dark, underground death trap.

His grip on the rope tightens. “That wasn’t a request.”

“I don’t care.” I pull against the rope, trying to put as much space as possible between us, which isn’t much, given his strength. “You kidnapped me, dragged me who knows how far, and now you think I’m just going to stroll into your creepy lair? No thanks.”

He sighs, both exasperated and oddly indulgent, as if he’s dealing with a tantrum-prone child. “You can walk,” he says, “or I can carry you. Your choice.”

I spin around, ready to run, but he’s too fast. His arms lock around my waist, and suddenly my feet aren’t touching the ground anymore.

“Put me down!” I twist and kick, but his grip is unyielding, and before I know it, he’s carrying me down the steps into the bunker.

“I will,” he says coolly. “Once we’re inside.”

The darkness swallows us as we descend, the morning light disappearing behind us. I expect the air to grow colder, but it doesn’t. Instead, there’s a strange warmth, like the space itself is alive.

The stairs give way to a polished floor, and I stop struggling, my breath catching as I take in the room around me.

This… isn’t what I expected.

It’s a room that looks like it was ripped straight from a palace.

The walls are black, reflecting the glow of silver sconces. Rich purple drapes hang from the ceiling, and a dark wood table and chairs sit off to the side, near a small kitchen.

But what steals my attention is the bed.

It’s massive, draped in velvet blankets so soft they look like they’d melt under your touch. Pillows are piled high, the kind that seem like they’d swallow you whole if you sank into them. My entire body aches with longing as I stare at it.

The dark angel sets me down and releases the rope, and I don’t even think—I stumble toward the bed, collapsing onto the plush surface.

It’s like falling onto a cloud in heaven.

After days in that ice tower, a night in a tent, and sleeping in a cave, I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to sleep on a bed.

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask, sinking onto the mattress, too tired to care about the answer.

Instead of replying, he moves toward an armchair near the corner of the room, unfastening his cloak and draping it over the back.

His movements are slow, deliberate, like he has all the time in the world. And he keeps his wings retracted, as if he’s finished intimidating me with them—for now.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead,” he says, alarmingly casual. “I’m Aerix. And this is Nyx.”

The jaguar settles onto a plush rug near the bed, watching me with those intelligent golden eyes.

I give her a small smile.

I might hate the dark angel—Aerix—but I could never hate an animal.

He approaches the bed slowly, his midnight eyes catching the light from the sconces. There’s something maddeningly calm about the way he moves—like he thinks he controls the room, the situation, and most of all, me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I snap, my exhaustion forgotten as anger surges through me.

He leans down and brushes a piece of lint off the velvet blanket, like he’s preparing the bed for himself. “Getting comfortable,” he says. “It’s been a long night.”

“Oh, no.” I sit up fully now, gripping the edge of the blanket like it’s a shield. “You are not sharing this bed with me.”

“It’s large enough for both of us.” He tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Over my dead body.”

My dagger’s in my hand before I can think it through, and I launch myself at him, aiming for his throat.

He catches my wrist like I’m moving in slow motion, twisting until the dagger clatters to the floor.

His fingers are like steel bands around my arm, but while his grip is firm, it’s not painful.

“That,” he says, surprise flickering across his face, “was unexpected.”

“Let. Me. Go.” I struggle against his grip, but it’s like fighting a mountain.

“You tried to kill me,” he says slowly, as if it hasn’t actually set in. “Most humans are more... receptive to my kind.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I growl at him. “Maybe try kidnapping someone with lower standards next time.”

To my shock, he laughs.

Then he releases me, and the weight of his gaze is suffocating, like he’s peeling back layers to see parts of me I don’t understand.

I hate it.

I hate him.

But before I can lunge for the dagger again, he waves a hand, and the weapon flies across the room.

It lands on the table with a soft thunk.

Crazily enough, I’ve faced so much insanity over the past week that I’m not sure I’m even scared anymore.

I just want this all to stop.

I just want to sleep for an entire day on this plush bed. Maybe I’ll wake up and this will have all been one crazy nightmare.

“I didn’t bring you here to hurt you,” he repeats. “Or to kill you.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

He holds out his hand, and water materializes above his palm, swirling into intricate patterns and dissolving into mist.

“I’m part fae,” he says simply. “Which, as you may or may not know by now, means I can’t lie.”

“Or maybe you can partly lie,” I shoot back. “Since you’re only part fae. And also part vampire, judging by that air magic you’ve been using.”

A breeze passes through the room, as if he’s saying yes without actually saying it. “You’re exhausting,” he says instead.

“You’re the one who kidnapped me. And who’s looking at me like I’m the best piece of bacon at a breakfast buffet.”

My stomach growls at the thought of bacon.

“Look,” he shoots back, his tone sharp. “If I wanted to feed on you, I would have. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be buried. Is that clear enough?”

“Crystal.” I glare at him, my mind racing. “But that doesn’t answer the question. Why not just leave me to drown in that waterfall? Why did you take me? And why did you bring me here?”

I motion around the room, as if what I’m referring to isn’t obvious already.

He crosses his arms, leaning casually against the bedframe. “You’re not ready for that answer.”

I narrow my eyes. “Try me.”

“I’d rather not waste my breath trying to explain things you’ll only understand later.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m a quick learner,” I snap. “So, go ahead. Enlighten me.”