Page 42 of Fallen Star

“You ask too many questions.”

“And you give too few answers,” I shoot back. “So, come on, Mr. Can’t-Lie. Spill.”

“That’s all you’re getting.” He stands, his towering frame looming over me, and I feel the full weight of his presence—dark, magnetic, and unnervingly calm. “Now, given that I rescued you from drowning and dragged you halfway across the forest, I’d like to rest, too.”

I scowl as he lowers himself onto the other side of the bed, making no effort to ask or even pretend he needs permission.

“Absolutely not.” I grab one of the pillows and shove it down the middle of the mattress, so tired that I don’t think I’mfully comprehending that a dark fae-vampire hybrid is casually jumping into bed with me.

But he clearly doesn’t want to kill me right now. And if I somehow manage to escape the bunker, I’ll definitely die in that forest.

So, what reasonable choice do I have?

“This is the line,” I tell him. “Cross it, and I’ll stab you again.”

“A pillow fortress.” He glances at it in amusement. “How formidable.”

“I’m serious,” I hiss, scooting as close to the edge of the bed as I can without falling off. “Stay on your side.”

“Relax, Zoey.” He stretches out with infuriating indifference. “I’m not going to dismantle your monumental barrier. You’re safe with me.”

“How do you even know my name?” I ask, since I definitely didn’t take the time to introduce myself to him.

“Your friend screamed it back at that waterfall,” he says simply. “Where I saved you.”

I’m seconds away from sarcastically thanking him for specifying which waterfall he meant, when I remind myself about one of the rules of the fae—never thank one of them, unless you want to owe them a favor. And sure, maybe since he’s part fae, I’d only owe himpartof a favor. But I have no interest in finding that out.

Plus, his mention of Sapphire’s scream is a blow to my heart.

She must be going out of her mind with worry. I can still see her face as I was carried away—the devastation in her eyes when she realized she failed me.

Then another thought strikes me, making my stomach sink even further.

The deal she made with Riven.

She swore to help him find the potion for his father’s sanity to the best of her ability. And “the best of her ability” probablydoesn’t include a detour to rescue her human best friend who got kidnapped by a fae-vampire to an underground bunker magically hidden under a snowbank. She wouldn’t know where to start looking for me, either.

She might have no choice but to leave me behind.

My fists clench around the blanket, my chest tightening. It’s not Sapphire’s fault, but it doesn’t stop the hurt or the betrayal that edges into my thoughts. All I can see is her face as I was dragged away—her fear, her helplessness.

Now all I have is Aerix and his smug expression as he watches me to see if he’s making any progress on breaking down my metaphorical—and physical—walls.

“You’re upset,” he observes, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.

“I’m going to sleep.” I don’t bother looking at him, instead rolling onto my side—facingawayfrom him—and closing my eyes.

Even with the pillow barrier, the space between us feels suffocatingly small.

And then there’s his scent—dark and intoxicating, like rain on burnt wood. No matter how much I try to block it out, it seeps into my senses, making it impossible to ignore him.

I hate it.

I hate him.

I hate this place.

And most of all, I hate being powerless.

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