Page 22 of Frozen Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #7)

The halls of the Night Palace are eerily beautiful, bathed in the morning light that spills through tall, arched windows. Chandeliers float overhead, and shadows cling to every corner, alive and shifting, like whispers of magic lingering beyond sight.

But the beauty is ruined by the bodies scattered across the polished marble floors. Night fae who dared to fight against the winter army. They lie broken and still, their wings splayed out around them like fallen angels, their lifeless eyes reflecting a battle they couldn’t win.

Those who surrendered are being kept behind heavy, ornate doors guarded by stoic winter knights. The knights’ gazes track us silently, their eyes watchful and wary, frost crackling along their armor as we pass.

Isla doesn’t flinch as we walk around the bodies.

She simply keeps her shoulders back and her head held high, saying nothing.

Despite how young—and how human she is—she has the composure of a fae queen.

Assuming she was telling the truth about her and Zoey being friends, I can see why Zoey liked her.

Riven stays close beside me, tension coiled tight in every movement. Ice forms patterns across his arms, his sword gripped firmly in one hand. As always, he’s ready to protect or destroy—whichever is needed first.

The deeper we go into the palace, the more ancient everything feels. The walls grow rougher, the air colder, until Isla finally stops before what appears to be a solid wall of black stone.

“Here,” she says simply.

“Here what?” I stare at the wall, seeing nothing but smooth obsidian.

“There’s a door.” Isla turns to Riven, that unnervingly calm expression fixed on her face. “You’ll be able to open it. Just press your palm against the stone and let your power flow into it. Magic will do the rest.”

Riven’s eyes narrow. “How convenient that you know exactly how this works.”

“The Night Court has many secrets,” she replies, which isn’t really an answer at all.

Water churns beneath my skin as I study the girl. Everything about this feels like a trap. She’s too composed, too knowledgeable, and too willing to help after we threatened her life.

“You’re coming with us,” I decide, raising the Star Disc. “If this is a trap, you’ll die right alongside us.”

“Of course,” Isla says without missing a beat. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I glance at Riven, a silent question hanging between us.

Can we trust her?

Assurance flows through the bond, but outwardly, he gives nothing away.

Still, something about the knowing gleam in Isla’s eyes makes it seem like she believes she has control over this situation.

I don’t like it, but what can I do other than trust that she cares enough about staying alive to have not agreed to come with us if this wasn’t a trap?

Riven shoots me a look that says stay alert, and then he steps forward, placing his palm against the stone.

His eyes close, frost dancing along his fingertips as it flows into the wall.

The magic traces elegant, crystal patterns that spread like frozen vines across the wall, and ancient symbols emerge, glowing beneath the layer of ice.

With a sharp crack, the stone shifts and slides apart, revealing a narrow staircase that spirals downward, illuminated by floating orbs of light.

“After you,” Riven says to Isla, his voice deadly polite.

She nods and steps through the opening.

Riven and I exchange a look—both of us feeling the same unease through our bond—before following her into the passage.

The stairs are steep and seem to go on forever. Our footsteps echo in the confined space, and the orbs drift alongside us like curious spirits, watching our every step.

“How do you know this place so well?” Riven asks Isla. “A human wouldn’t typically know about secret fae passages.”

Isla doesn’t glance back. “Trusted humans gain certain privileges in this court,” she says, adding nothing more.

I’m understanding enough of her vibe to know she likely won’t be adding anything more. So, I gaze around, goosebumps rising on my skin from the cold, despite my ice magic.

Finally, the stairs bottom out at another solid, seamless black stone wall. Only the faint outline of ancient symbols carved into its surface gives it away.

“Press your palm against it.” Isla nods at Riven. “Same as before.”

Riven places his palm against the stone without hesitation, ice flowing from his touch. The symbols flare to life, glowing with cold blue light, and the door swings inward with a grinding sound that echoes through the narrow passage.

Beyond is another staircase, this one spiraling up into darkness.

“Care to explain why these doors are responding to a prince from another court?” Riven asks Isla.

She lifts an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking slightly. “Maybe you’re more connected to this place than you realize.”

He gives her a hard stare. “That’s not an answer,” he says, but Isla remains silent, her expression neutral.

We’re not going to get anywhere with her. But we will get somewhere if we go up these creepy stairs, and every nerve in my body urges me forward, desperate to find Zoey.

“Does it matter?” Water rises around me, droplets spinning in the air. “I don’t care if these doors open because Riven’s royal or because they like the color of his eyes. I just want to find my best friend.”

“It’s definitely the eyes.” Riven smirks at me. “Doors, dragons, princesses—they all inevitably surrender to these devastating silver eyes.”

I simply roll my eyes and step through the doorway.

Riven’s instantly by my side, serious again, his sword out as he scans for potential threats.

The area’s clear. So, we climb the spiral staircase, and with each step, the air grows colder. My heart pounds, and through our bond, I feel Riven’s matching anxiety. Not for himself, but for me.

Always for me.

Finally, we reach the top, where a stone door identical to the others awaits. Again, Riven presses his palm to the stone. And again, ice spreads across the surface, the symbols blaze to life, and the door swings open.

The chamber beyond is circular, with tall windows that let in streams of sunlight. Books and various trinkets line the walls and sit on the tables, and an ornate bed sits in the center of the room, draped in midnight blue silk.

There, on the bed, two figures are wrapped in each other’s arms.

Dark wings spread wide around them like a protective cocoon. I catch a glimpse of long, dark hair spilling across silk pillows before they spring apart, moving with inhuman speed.

The man—tall and devastatingly beautiful, with midnight eyes and massive black wings—positions himself in front of the bed.

And behind him...

The world tilts beneath my feet, every breath frozen in my chest.

“Zoey,” I say as I take in the sight of my best friend, as if looking away for even a second will make her disappear entirely.