Page 40 of Fallen Star

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 arenotsharing 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 hatehim.

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.”

---