Page 39 of Fallen Star

Some of them glow more than the others. They sing to me. Point to each other. Whisper in my mind in a language I don’t know how I understand.

“This way,” I say, and I turn away from Riven, keeping an eye on the sky as I lead our way through the night.

Zoey

The dark angelrefuses 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 snowmoves,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.”

---