Page 64 of House of Darkness (The Fallen Star #1)

ESTRELLA

The woman in the mirror was not one I recognized.

Not in this regal baby blue dress adorned with lace stars that danced across the skirt and a beaded bodice that shimmered under the light.

Especially not with the star-studded tiara perched atop my head.

Roman had purchased both for me, knowing I wouldn’t have the time to create my own amidst the chaos.

This was the outfit meant to introduce me to the world—not as Estrella the acolyte, but as Estrella the Tsarina.

I brushed my fingers over my exposed neck.

Sorin had tattooed over my scar—not to hide it, but to draw attention to it.

Inside the ragged circle now blossomed a tiny galaxy, with two stars strategically placed at Roman’s bite mark.

He was my night, and I was his moon and stars, permanently inked on my skin.

But that wasn’t the only tattoo Sorin had given me.

I twisted in the mirror to admire the pair of wings now etched over my shoulder blades, trailing down the backs of my arms. When I lifted my arms, it was as though I were raising my wings to fly—a permanent mark of the freedom my family had gifted me.

I wore my Koraki mark proudly; I was no longer an object owned by the House but a proud member.

Roman approached from behind, his hands resting on my hips as he pressed his lips to my neck.

He had undergone a minor revision to his chest tattoo—a horrifying process I never wanted to witness again, where Sorin sliced away pieces of skin for a fresh inking.

Now, little stars danced through the wings of his raven, glimmering like diamonds up his shoulders and collarbone.

“Because you’re the wind in my wings,” he had told me.

A violent yet beautiful representation of our love, which felt fitting.

“You look delicious, Your Highness,” he purred.

“I do, don’t I?” My hands glided over the gown, the fabric remarkable and glimmering softly in the light—a far cry from the cheap red dress I had worn when we first met.

I turned to face him. “You look good yourself, Your Majesty.”

He did. Dressed in a monochrome black suit, he matched the rest of the house. When I had asked if I should wear black as well, his response had been simple: absolutely not. That had settled that. He, however, looked striking in all black, especially with the iron crown resting on his head.

“I know,” he replied, a smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Always so arrogant.”

He smirked. “You love it.”

“I do.” I fiddled with the hem of his suit jacket. “Are we really doing this?”

He kissed my jawline. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific. Right now, all I can think about is doing you.”

“We’re about to announce to a room full of vampires that their new ruler is a human acolyte.”

I felt his lips curl into a grin against my jaw. “We are. Should be fun.”

I pushed his distracting mouth away. “I’m serious. They’ll want to kill me.”

“Once I’ve dealt with the loudest dissenters, you’ll find the rest become surprisingly amicable.”

I shot him a flat look. “As much as I love the sentiment, you can’t just kill everyone. I have to convince them to support me.”

“What are you thinking, Your Majesty?”

I turned back to the mirror, taking a moment to appreciate the woman I saw there. She was powerful. She would set the world ablaze and watch it burn. Roman stepped to my back once more, my fallen angel ready to be the black arm of retribution if I needed it. But I didn’t. Not now.

“You once said vampires are the most bloodthirsty creatures on the planet.”

Roman’s teeth gleamed in the mirror. “I’m listening.”

Solaris, Razvan, and Sorin were crammed into the carriage opposite Roman, Isabella, and me. Catina and Enso had been assigned guard duty in the other carriage so the three could brief us for the party, with Catina insisting Solaris ride with us. It made for tight quarters.

I laid my head on Isabella’s shoulder. She wore a black dress that accentuated her curves. “Are you ready for this, dear?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied.

Solaris didn’t glance my way before interjecting, “I can’t wait to see Codran’s head roll.”

Roman laughed. “You and me both.”

I examined my sister with a clinical gaze.

She had rebounded back to her fiery self with remarkable speed.

Unlike Charlotte, who had chosen to stay behind, Solaris had demanded to attend.

As had been the case her entire life, she got her wish.

Apparently, even my formidable tsar would bend to her fiery will.

The generals—our generals, I realized—spent the rest of the ride discussing the expectations for the party.

Every second of the evening had been meticulously planned, from our entrance to the order in which we sat, even Roman’s speech.

It was clear the three had made painstaking effort to ensure the event conveyed the exact message we needed.

The castle in the city was just as I remembered: a stone structure reminiscent of a church, with spires twisting off the top.

The carriage rolled to a stop at the front, and as instructed, Roman exited first, helping me down second.

The others followed, Sorin stepping back to assist Catina and Enso with the traitors.

Ignoring their chatter, Solaris immediately walked to my side.

“Your gown is dragging.” She knelt down—impressive in her staggeringly high heels—and picked up the train that trailed several feet behind me.

“Thank you,” I said, twisting to gaze at her, my eyes stinging.

“I’ve always got your back, Es.”

Roman looked at me with an expression I didn’t quite understand. Instead of saying anything, he held out his arm, and I took it gratefully. My sister at my back, my partner at my side, and my family surrounding me, we entered the building together.

It felt just like before—the darkness of the interior, the suffocating auras of the vampire crowd, the shaking in my knees.

Yet everything was different, especially the second throne positioned next to the original.

I wasn’t entering this building as an acolyte ready to be sold off to the highest bidder; I was stepping in as a ruler ready to command the respect of my subjects with blood.

Silence swept over the room, as if Roman’s power had somehow snuffed out the noise. Maybe it did—his shadows slid across the floor, choking the space in darkness like a thick fog. His wings were half-extended, intimidating sheets of onyx, yet all eyes were trained on me.

In that moment, I realized why Roman had insisted I couldn’t wear black. I stood out as starkly as the moon in the night sky—literally. Him and his ridiculous metaphors. You did this on purpose.

You needed to outshine all of us. Besides, they would’ve been gawking at you anyway. I know I am. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him winking.

I could stab you.

Save the sexy talk for home, doll.

He twirled me so my back faced the new throne before taking his place beside me. Codran, Iliya, and Gregor were thrown at our feet like trash. My lip curled. I refused to feel any semblance of fear for the people who had dragged me into a pit of nightmares and hurt me. They were nothing now.

Solaris took the spot farthest away on my left, with Catina close by her side. On my right, Razvan occupied the end, then Sorin. Enso was the closest to our right. They had explained to me in the carriage that having our general of war at our right hand was a statement. It was a threat.

I recognized some of the crowd: Alexander, next to his daughter Mia, surrounded by many from his house. Ylva was there too, dressed in an embellished dress that cut off too short. She was flanked by her lieutenants, but she walked arm-in-arm with her sister. The rest were unfamiliar.

Roman flared his wings to either side, one tucking behind me like a black backdrop to my glittering gown. “Thank you for coming all this way to our home. It means a great deal to have such loyal followers.”

He paused, allowing his subtle threat to resonate. Then he stood, taking my hand and pulling me with him. “I take great pleasure in announcing the lovely Estrella, our new tsarina, to reign by my side.”

The crowd erupted into a frenzy.

Obscenities and spit were hurled at me like projectiles. The outrage was violent enough that Enso stepped to my side. I was grateful Roman didn’t intervene, though his rage built like a bomb ready to detonate. I let my eyes close for one second. Two. I reopened them.

I stepped forward until I reached the very edge of the dais.

Codran sat at my feet, his eyes pinned on me, twisted with hatred.

He snarled through his mouth gag. I pressed my heel to his head, pinning him down, my lip curled in disgust at the man who felt entitled to hurt me.

He was now an insect to be crushed under my heel.

I redirected my focus to my bigger problem.

Only two of the vampires in the crowd weren’t looking at me with utter hatred and disgust. Ylva grinned maniacally, which I suspected was her norm, while Mia regarded me with clinical interest, though her father was seething.

The rest looked like they would rather devour me.

Given the chance, I was certain they would.

I allowed my eyes to meet every individual vampire as I spoke.

This wasn’t part of my generals’ carefully laid-out plan, but I knew I would need to do this.

I shifted the tip of my heel to Codran’s eye and pressed down until blood pooled around my foot with a disgusting squelch. His scream of agony silenced the crowd. I looked down at their horrified expressions with cold disinterest.

“I understand your reluctance to accept me as your tsarina. After all, I am human, and who would want to be ruled by someone not of their own species?” I yanked my foot back, ignoring Codran’s whimper, and sidestepped him. Every step left a trail of blood across the smoky quartz.