Page 19

We exit the narrow path, and Nyx moves further into the celebration, carrying us through streets that grow wider as we approach the town center.

Every few steps, I touch the hilt of Aerix’s dagger, reassuring myself it’s still there. That this newfound power isn’t a dream that will vanish by morning.

As we turn a corner, the main square opens before us—a vast expanse filled with hundreds of night fae in various states of wild revelry.

A massive fountain stands in the center, blood and water mingling in crimson cascades that catch the moonlight.

It’s nightmarishly beautiful, and the music pulses with a rhythm that makes the air vibrate with danger.

But before we reach the edge of the crowd, Aerix brings Nyx to a halt beneath the shadow of a towering archway .

“Here,” he says, dismounting in one fluid motion. His wings extend as he reaches up to help me down, his hands firm at my waist.

When my feet touch the ground, my legs wobble slightly from the long ride. Aerix steadies me, one arm around my waist, his magic forming a cool barrier between us and the celebration.

“Why are we stopping?” I ask, confused.

Aerix’s eyes scan the crowd, cold and calculating. “It’s always best to observe first,” he murmurs. “To know where each player is located, so you can be three moves ahead, setting the stage for checkmate.”

“You sound just like Isla,” I note.

“She learned from the best.” He smirks, then guides me to a spot half-hidden in shadow, just at the edge of the massive square.

From here, we have a perfect view of the celebration without being immediately noticed. The night fae are so caught up in their debauchery—dancing wildly, drinking from goblets that seem to refill themselves, and feeding from humans—that they pay no attention to the shadowed archway where we stand.

“Watch,” Aerix says, his lips close to my ear. “And learn.”

His hand settles at the small of my back, cold air swirling between us. I lean into him, my eyes scanning the crowd, trying to absorb everything at once .

“There,” he says suddenly, directing my gaze with a subtle nod. “Do you see her?”

I follow his line of sight to a slender woman with wings that reflect the stars.

Her movements are graceful as she dances with a tall male whose golden hair catches the fountain’s bloody light.

They move together as if they were created for this single purpose—to complement each other in every way imaginable.

“Princess Mirena,” I say, recognizing her from that first day in the throne room, when I was presented to the royals.

And the man she’s dancing with… he looks so familiar…

“That’s Katerina’s brother,” I realize.

“Yes,” Aerix confirms. “Dimitri. He looks like her, don’t you think? Like Katerina?”

“He does,” I agree, watching as Mirena’s hands slide over Dimitri’s shoulders, her wings curling around them both.

“She loves him,” I say—or rather, I observe.

“Yes,” Aerix says, almost wistfully. “They’re happy together.”

From the way he says it, it’s like he’s trying to puzzle out what happiness even means.

I scan the rest of the courtyard, and when I spot Queen Ravenna, it’s not her that I focus on.

Because Isla stands by her side. She’s not dressed like a human pet, or even like a favored servant.

Instead, she wears a gown of midnight blue, adorned with silver thread that catches the light with every movement.

She smiles and nods at something the queen says, looking every bit as if she belongs at the monarch’s side.

Then, our eyes lock across the crowd. There’s no surprise in hers, no shock at seeing me here with Aerix, wearing this diamond-covered gown. Instead, she tilts her head slightly. It’s an acknowledgment, not a challenge. The gesture reminds me of our chess games—of her careful, deliberate strategy.

Isla excuses herself from the queen’s side and begins moving through the crowd toward us. Night fae part for her almost as they did for Aerix—not with quite the same fear, but with a respect that no other human in this court receives.

She stops in front of me and takes in my gown, the dagger at my waist, and the way Aerix’s hand remains possessively at my back.

“Look at how far you’ve come, Zoey,” she says slowly, in definite approval.

“Isla,” Aerix acknowledges her with a nod that seems almost familial.

“The dress suits her,” Isla says to him, her eyes never leaving mine. “I told you it would. ”

“You helped pick this out?” I ask.

Isla’s laugh is light, almost musical. “Of course I did. Do you think our prince here knows the first thing about fashion? About what would flatter your particular... assets?” Her gaze flicks to the low neckline of my gown, then back to my face, and she gives me a conspiratorial smile.

“I know enough,” Aerix retorts with a half-smile, and his wings shift slightly, almost playfully. “I know what looks good on her. Or rather—what she looks good without.”

Isla makes a face and rolls her eyes. “I so don’t want to think about that,” she says.

For the first time since I’ve known him, Aerix actually looks... embarrassed? His midnight eyes narrow, but the frost patterns that form at his fingertips are delicate, not threatening.

“The diamonds were my idea,” he says defensively.

“And a good one,” Isla concedes. “I’ll give you that much.”

I watch their exchange, fascinated by this new side of Aerix—the way his usual deadly demeanor softens around Isla, how he allows her to tease him without consequence. It reminds me of me and Sapphire—like watching siblings bicker.

I smile slightly at the thought of Sapphire. Luckily, I trust that she’s okay with Riven. He loves her—there’s no doubt about it. Even though she was fighting it, she’ll see the light soon.

Plus, I’ve learned firsthand that fae princes are impossible to resist.

“You did a fantastic job with choosing the dress,” I tell Isla, meaning it. “I appreciate it. Just like I appreciate you helping me the other night.” The words are spoken quietly and carefully chosen, ensuring no one else will hear.

Isla waves a dismissive hand. “It needed to be done. Besides, it gave us the perfect excuse to get rid of Victoria. It was about time she moved on from the human wing.” Her smile is sharp, her eyes calculating, despite the lightness of her tone.

“Her time there was done, and she knew it as well as anyone else. Best to get it over with instead of having to dread it every day.”

I tilt my head, taking in this side of Isla that I saw while we played chess, but never when we discussed people.

The craziest thing? I don’t hate it.

No—I respect it.

She reaches out, adjusting a diamond on my dress. “We’re the same, you and I,” she says. “Humans playing a fae game. The difference is, I’ve been playing for far, far longer.” She gives Aerix a pointed look, then she returns her attention to me. “And I’m happy to have you as a sister.”

Sister.

The word sounds strange coming from her mouth. Because there’s only one person I’ve ever considered a sister—Sapphire.

But Aerix is everything to me. Isla is his sister. Not by blood, but by soul. If my relationship with Aerix becomes more permanent, that would make Isla my sister, too.

A thrill courses through me at the thought that Isla views my connection with Aerix to be as serious as I do, and I find myself completely and utterly speechless.

I’m still trying to find words when a hush falls over the crowd, cutting through the wild partying. The music fades, conversations die, and all eyes turn toward the center of the square, to the giant fountain flowing with blood.

Aerix’s hand presses firmly against my back.

“It’s starting,” he whispers, his lips close to my ear, his breath cool against my skin. “Watch carefully.”

King Thanatos emerges from the shadows on the other side of the square, his wings unfurled to their full, impressive span.

Aurora follows at his side, her head held high, but her eyes downcast in submission.

And her dress… it makes her look like Cinderella attending the ba ll.

She’s even more perfect and pristine here than she was in the human wing.

The king stops when he reaches the fountains. Then, he extends his hand to Aurora, who tilts her head to expose the long, pale column of her throat. His fingers trace her jawline, and when his fangs sink into her flesh, Aurora’s lips part in a silent gasp, her body arching into him.

Some in the crowd watch with hunger, others with envy, but all with the same reverence one might show a sacred ceremony.

“She loves it,” I whisper, surprised by the obvious pleasure on Aurora’s face.

Because it’s not just the feeding that she seems to be loving. That’s always a pleasurable experience, no matter how much you try to fight it. No… it’s the attention she loves. The respect she’s commanding as the king’s favorite pet.

When the king pulls away, Princess Mirena emerges from the crowd, her wings glittering in the fountain’s bloody light. Dimitri follows, his gaze never leaving her face as she leads him to the spot the king just vacated.

Their feeding is more intimate, more equal. She draws him close and kisses him first, pressing her body against his as her fangs pierce his throat.

Dimitri’s hands grip her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of her gown. The look on his face is pure bliss.

This isn’t submission. It’s loyalty. Pure, unashamed devotion.

I scan the crowd, noticing Queen Ravenna watching from her place of honor. But she stands alone—no pet beside her.

“The queen doesn’t have a human with her,” I murmur to Aerix.

“No,” he replies. “The human she always brought with her is gone. Murdered in the human wing. In the living room of my suite, to be exact.”

He smirks, as if the mention of Henry dead at my feet just impressed him all over again.

“The way you’re looking at me makes me wish I’d stained your floors sooner,” I say, and he pulls me closer, as if he wants to memorize the way I look right now, deadly and completely his, before anyone else has the chance.

As if on cue, Queen Ravenna’s gaze shifts, her eyes finding mine across the crowd. There’s something calculating in her stare. Something sharp and assessing that makes my skin crawl.

Does she know about Henry? Does she suspect my role in his death?

Isla steps closer, her fingers brushing my arm.

“She’s watching you,” she says, her voice barely audible over the renewed murmurs of the crowd. “She knows something’s different about you.”

The dagger at my hip seems to pulse with power, reminding me what I’ve already done—of what I’m capable of.

“Then let her watch,” I say, surprising myself with my own boldness. “Let her see that I’m not afraid of her… and that I’ll never let her make me afraid of her.”