Page 45 of Fallen Star

Too tired to argue anymore, I sink back onto the pine needles. Ghost curls up beside me, radiating warmth, and I hate how safe it makes me feel.

“Close your eyes,” he says. “Focus on my voice.”

“If this is some sort of trick?—”

“Sapphire.” The way he says my name—soft but firm—makes something flutter in my chest. “Just trust me. Please.”

I want to snap back that I don’t trust him at all. That I can’t trust him. Not when I’m hiding what I am, and he might turn on me if he discovers the truth.

But apparently not all of that is true, because I can’t bring myself to say it.

And, as frustrating as it is, I can only speak the truth.

“Fine,” I give in, sinking back onto the pine needles. “Show me.”

He crouches in front of me, his movements sharp and controlled, like he’s holding himself back.

“Close your eyes,” he says again, his voice softening slightly. “Focus on your breathing. In through your nose for four counts. Hold it for four. Out through your mouth for four.”

I do as he says, although my breaths are shallow and unsteady at first.

“Now, picture a box in your mind, going from one ear to the other,” he continues. “Inhale, imagining that you can breathe inthrough your right ear. Hold it inside the box. Exhale from the left ear. Then from the left to the right. Over and over.”

I try to follow his instructions, but my thoughts keep tugging back to Zoey—to her scream, and the terror on her face as the dark angel carried her away.

“It’s not working,” I eventually say.

“It will,” he insists. “You’re fighting it. Stop. Let your mind follow the rhythm.”

I bite back a retort and try again, focusing on the imaginary box and pretending like I can breathe in through my ears.

Slowly, the edges of my thoughts blur, the rhythm of my breathing pulling me into a surprising sense of calm.

His voice washes over me like waves on a shore, and despite everything, my body tingles as I feel myself drifting.

The last thing I register is Ghost’s rumbling purr beside me, and Riven’s quiet voice.

“Sleep well, Summer Fae.”

Zoey

I can’t pinpointthe exact moment I fell asleep. But awareness creeps back slowly, and the first thing I register is warmth—a solid presence beneath my arm that’s definitely not my pillow barrier.

My eyes flutter open, and my heart stops.

My arm is draped across Aerix’s chest, the pillow fort demolished between us. His shirt has ridden up. And, to make it worse, my fingers are grazing the bare skin of his stomach.

My stupid, traitorous body must have shifted in the night.

I risk a glance at his face, praying he’s still asleep.

Instead, I find him very much awake, those midnight eyes glinting with barely concealed amusement.

He quirks a brow, smiling smugly. “Comfortable?”

Heat floods my cheeks, and I yank my arm back so quickly that I nearly tumble off the bed.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I sit up, trying to ignore my racing heart. “I must have been... sleepwalking.”

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