“You gave him what he deserved. Now, we need to get Victoria’s scent on the body,” he says, moving to a cabinet and retrieving something that looks like a large bottle of ink—or blood. “This will do. Especially given that she won’t have an alibi.”
“I don’t know where she went after leaving the suite. How do we know she wasn’t with?—”
“No one will give her an alibi,” he cuts me off, his eyes hardening with the look he gives me when he doesn’t want me to push further. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I nod, trusting him.
“And me?” I ask. “Where will I be?”
“Here, in my quarters,” he says simply. “Where you belong.”
The certainty in his voice—the possessive finality—sends a shiver straight through me.
“What about Sophia?” I ask. “She said she was going to…”
I trail off, unsure how Aerix will react if I tell him Sophia went to spend the night with Elijah. I know Aerix doesn’t care about Sophia—nowhere close to how much he cares about me—but she still technically belongs to him. And Aerix protects what’s his.
Although, given that he’s plotting how to frame Victoria for Henry’s murder, he apparently cares about the others far less than I realized.
“I’ll handle Sophia.” His wings flare, and he strides to the door, opening it and whispering to one of the guards outside.
When he returns, his expression is resolute.
“It’s done,” he says.
“That easily?”
“When you’re a prince,” he says, an edge of dark humor in his voice as he moves toward me, “murder is just another type of politics.”
I trail my fingers over his bare chest, feeling the tension there—the power just beneath the surface.
“Murder. Politics,” I say, my heart racing as I gaze up at him. “You make them both look beautiful.”
He gives a low, pleased sound, sliding his hand to the small of my back. “They’re all just tools,” he murmurs in my ear. “And I’ll wield every one of them for you.”
My heart stutters, and I lean back slightly, meeting his hungry gaze. “And I love you for it,” I say, not wanting him to doubt me for a single second.
With that, his mouth crashes onto mine, claiming and devouring. But in the back of my mind, I think of Victoria—asleep somewhere, oblivious to the noose tightening around her neck.
And I feel nothing.
Because in the Night Court, we all play the game.
And I’ve learned how to win.
When Aerix pulls back, he brushes his fingers along my cheek, smearing the blood there like war paint.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over my ear, “I’m having your things moved out of the human quarters. You’ll live in the suite connected to mine. No more separation, and no more distance. You’ll finally be where you belong.”
I pull back just enough to look up at him, my pulse quickening. “Has a royal ever done that for a human before?” I ask.
It’s rare,” he admits. “But not unprecedented. Isla lived in a suite connected to the king’s quarters before she was old enough to join the human wing. As for Katerina’s brother…” His tone shifts, an edge of amusement in it. “He’s been in Mirena’s quarters this entire time.”
I blink, stunned. “But Mirena only has Sebastian.”
“Sebastian’s a decoy.” His fingers trace my collarbone, his touch leaving frost patterns on my skin. “My sister keeps her true love locked away where no one can see him, and she takes enough from Sebastian to ensure no one questions his weakened state.”
I nod, processing this information. Because with Victoria gone, Aerix will only have me and Sophia to feed from—and he never takes close to enough from me to make me weak. He likes to have me strong for him.