33. Zoey

Zoey

With every corner turned through the Night Court’s mirrored halls, I’m half expecting Aerix to materialize out of the shadows and hit me with another smug observation about my character flaws.

I shouldn’t let him get to me. Not the prince who drank my blood like it was fine wine, not the predator who delights in poking at my vulnerabilities.

But somehow, he does.

Victoria and Sophia are waiting in the common area, already dressed and ready for the day. Well, for the night. Which is day to the vampires.

“Well?” Sophia asks. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Define what you mean by ‘okay,’” I say, since even though I’m physically recovering from Aerix’s drinking from me, I’ll never be emotionally recovered.

I know that deep in my soul.

“You know…” She glances down at the floor, shrugs, then turns her focus back to me. “How much did he take?”

“I managed to stay conscious, if that’s what you’re asking,” I say, moving to an armchair and sitting down.

I almost didn’t stay conscious, but they don’t need to know that. And I don’t feel like sharing any more details.

What happened in there with Aerix feels too personal. Too private.

Victoria’s eyes zero in on my neck. “So, he did it,” she says. “He fed from you already.”

There’s something in her tone that makes me pause.

Hurt? Jealousy?

“He always feeds from me when he first wakes,” she continues, confirming my suspicions. “He has for years. Ever since I first got here.”

“It was probably just a one-time thing,” Sophia reassures her. “You know how they can be with anything new.”

“Aerix has never been like that.” Victoria scowls.

But I’m still focused on what Sophia said.

“New things,” I repeat flatly. “Like I’m a fancy dessert he’s never tried before.”

Victoria’s laugh is hollow. “That’s exactly what you are. What we all are.”

The casual way they discuss this—like it’s perfectly normal to be treated as food—makes my skin crawl.

I need to get out of here. Away from their knowing looks and loaded comments.

“I need some air,” I say, already heading for the door.

“Zoey—” Sophia starts, but I’m already gone.

I wander the human wing until I find my way to the courtyard. The night air is surprisingly warm, the watered-down blood bubbles from the fountains, and the dark roses shimmer in the moonlight. Thankfully, the water in the fountains here doesn’t smell as much like blood. Maybe there’s less of it in the water? Or because it’s not stagnant? No idea.

The entire courtyard would be beautiful, if it wasn’t essentially a prettier version of a prison yard.

Hours pass as I sit by one of the fountains, watching the moonlight dance across the water, replaying the moments of Aerix drinking my blood.

It doesn’t feel real. Especially since every time I touch my neck, the skin there is perfectly smooth, as if it hadn’t been violated the way it was.

As I sit there, I steal glances at the others in the courtyard, who seem intent on ignoring me.

Malakai’s humans—Lacey, Katerina, and Brenda—are playing a card game off to the side. Apparently, cards are their favorite pastime. Aurora sits across the way, reading. Nathanial’s sketching next to the garden.

When Henry comes out, he thankfully doesn’t bother me. He just takes off his shirt and starts working out.

Jake’s nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’s with Princess Cierra.

Other humans come and go, and while they give me curious looks, they don’t come over.

Finally, as midnight approaches, the handlers begin setting up tables for lunch.

The thought of food makes my stomach growl—those cookies feel like ages ago.

Sophia and Victoria are the next ones who enter the courtyard. Victoria immediately heads to one of the round tables, and Sophia hurries over to me.

“That’s our table,” she says, pointing to the one Victoria’s now sitting at. “Come on. She’s not that bad all the time. I promise.”

Given the fact that Victoria’s glaring at me as if she wants to murder me with her cutlery, I have trouble believing Sophia on that.

But I don’t have time to figure out what to say to Victoria when I sit down, because the next person who files in is the one I’ve been hoping to see all day.

“Matt!” I call out, waving him over.

He’s guarded when he looks at me—so unlike the Matt I knew back home—but he weaves through the tables and stops at ours.

“Zoey,” he says calmly. “How have you been settling in?”

His tone startles me, and I stand up, searching for the boyishness of the Matt I remember.

There’s nothing. It’s like he’s been replaced by someone else entirely.

“Aerix sent for me this morning,” I say, miraculously keeping my voice from wobbling.

“And?” He leans in, speaking quieter now. “How was it?”

“He…” I reach for my neck, touching the place where the wound would be.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” His eyes are wide, just like they were at dinner yesterday when he spoke of the queen.

His gushing makes me suddenly not hungry for lunch.

“I came to see you last night,” I tell him, needing to change the subject. “You weren’t there.”

“I sleep in the queen’s quarters,” he says proudly.

“Elijah told me.” I swallow, my heart dropping with the realization that it’s going to be more difficult to get through to Matt than I hoped. “Can we go to my room after lunch? We need to talk.”

“Zoey,” he says, almost pitifully, taking a step back. “I’m not going with you to your room. I’m with the queen now. I would never do something like that to her. I wouldn’t?—”

“Oh my God,” I cut him off. “You think I was inviting you back to my room to sleep with you?”

“Why else would you have asked?”

Before I can answer, Henry strolls over to us.

“Did I hear something about an invitation to your room?” he asks me, his smirk nearly as devious as Aerix’s.

“No,” I snap at him. “Go away. Both of you.”

Matt sheepishly runs his fingers through his hair, unable to meet my eyes, and strides over to the table where Elijah’s already situated.

“Go,” I repeat to Henry, and I reach for my fork, holding it like a dagger.

“Stop,” Sophia says, her fingers wrapping around my wrist. “You’ll get sent to the barns if you attack him.”

I don’t let go of the fork, instead keeping my eyes locked on Henry’s, daring him to try anything.

“No witty comeback? Don’t tell me Aerix already wore you out,” he finally says. “Guess you don’t have the stamina for this place after all.”

With that, he turns around and joins Matt and Elijah at their table.

Sitting back down, I take a deep breath and scan the other tables, which have been quickly filling up.

“Where’s Jake?” I ask Sophia, glancing at the table where Princess Cierra’s pets are already seated. Sebastian and Tanya. They both look sweet and innocent, like Jake.

“He’s with Princess Cierra,” Sophia replies, just like I expected. “He always spends lunch with her. But she tends to be quick. He’s usually back by dessert.”

“Cierra doesn’t like to linger after her meals,” Victoria adds with a smirk.

“Are you upset?” Sophia asks with concern. “Because you know he doesn’t have a choice. None of us do.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m not upset. I was just wondering.”

It’s the truth. Because unfortunately, it’s not Jake’s eyes I can’t get out of my mind right now.

It’s Aerix’s.

Sophia thankfully doesn’t push it.

She just quiets and waits for lunch to be served—which, like everything else in the Night Court, is decadent.

First comes a light salad with crisp greens, thinly sliced radishes, and a tangy vinaigrette. I prefer ranch, but after a week of stale bread in the Winter Court, I have no complaints. Next is a creamy tomato soup, with fresh bread to dip in it. Finally, the main course—roasted chicken legs with mashed potatoes and green beans.

I devour it all.

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Sophia asks with a smile. “Before I came here, I’d never had anything like it.”

“What was your life like?” I ask her. “Before all of this?”

Sophia sets down her fork, her smile softening. “It wasn’t great,” she says, quiet but steady. “I lived with my mom, brother, and sister in Portland—in one of those neighborhoods where you don’t go out after dark. My mom worked three jobs, but no matter how hard she tried, it was never enough. Some nights, she’d skip dinner so the three of us could eat. I used to pretend I wasn’t hungry, just to make it easier on her.”

I pause mid-bite, the taste of green beans turning bitter in my mouth. “That sounds… rough,” I say, because how else am I supposed to respond? I certainly can’t relate. And I won’t give her the indignity of pretending I can.

“It was.” She shrugs, as if brushing it off. “But I had to help. I started working when I was twelve. Babysitting, cleaning houses, whatever I could find. It wasn’t much, but it kept the lights on most of the time. Even then, there were nights I’d wake up to hear my mom crying in the kitchen, trying to figure out how she was going to stretch one meal to feed four of us.”

I glance at Victoria, expecting some sort of snarky comment.

But she’s uncharacteristically quiet, pushing a piece of chicken around her plate.

Sophia tells me a bit more about her life before all of this, and before long, our plates are being cleared.

Jake strolls into the courtyard as dessert is being served.

Sophia nudges me. “See? Like clockwork.”

He takes his seat at the table with Sebastian and Tanya, but his eyes find mine across the courtyard. For a moment, he hesitates, his expression almost guilty.

It makes sense.

After all, I now know how intimate it is when they drink from us. And I have a sinking feeling that what Aerix took from me was just the beginning.

I nod, letting Jake know it’s fine. Not like it matters, since the pebble he gave me wasn’t a literal proposal, but I can tell that my acceptance matters to him.

He nods back, his shoulders relaxing, and turns his attention to his table.

I look down at my fruit tart, suddenly finding it impossible to eat.

I’m sitting there playing with it when Aethelthryth appears beside our table, carrying an armful of packages.

My eyes widen as she begins setting them down.

The courtyard falls silent, everyone staring as she unloads the satchels.

There’s wood and carving tools, several sketchbooks with high-quality pencils, clay, yarn, knitting needles, and even a small set of watercolors. And that’s just the start.

“From Prince Aerix,” she explains—as if it wasn’t obvious. “He says you’re to have full use of these items, and that he’ll have a plot in the garden cleared for you by tomorrow. He also asked if there’s anything else you’ll be needing—specifically regarding the tools he sent for the wood whittling.”

Victoria’s fork clatters against her plate. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says, her eyes narrow. “You asked for all of this? And he gave it to you?”

“I didn’t think he’d actually…” I trail off, staring at the items in disbelief.

“What did you do for him?” Her voice is clipped, as if she’s accusing me of something. “Or rather, to him?”

“Nothing,” I say, my fingers drifting to where his fangs broke through my skin. “At least, nothing I assume you haven’t done for him.”

“Then in the span of a few hours, you’ll have had to have done more activities with him than I have in the past sixteen years,” Victoria says with a smug smirk. “And I can assure you—that’s far from possible.”

“He’s never done this for anyone before,” Sophia says, her brows furrowing as she watches Aethelthryth unload the final armful of stuff. “At least, not that I know of. They sometimes give us small things to keep us occupied—cards and such—but never at our request. And certainly not all at once.”

I glance at Aethelthryth, who nods in confirmation.

“He’s trying to keep you entertained,” Victoria says with a bitter laugh. “Like a cat with new toys. The novelty will wear off soon. In the meantime, enjoy your arts and crafts.”

I ignore her, instead focusing on Aethelthryth.

“Tell Aerix?—”

I’m interrupted by Sophia kicking me under the table.

I glare at her, and she shakes her head, her eyes wide with warning.

Oh.

She’s worried I was about to tell Aethelthryth to tell Aerix thank you.

She highly underestimates my ability to adapt. Not just to this world, but to every hobby I’ve ever pivoted to in my life.

“Tell Aerix I’ll make good use of his gifts,” I say calmly, trying to hide the thrill running through me at the fact that he’s done something so unique for me.

“I’ll pass along the message,” she says, and after one last confused, lingering glance, she turns and goes back inside.