Midnight Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #3)

17. Zoey

Zoey

The next “morning,” before sunset, pounding on my door jolts me awake.

“Zoey.” Aethelthryth’s voice is sharp and urgent. “Get up. Now.”

I blink groggily, disoriented by being woken before my usual time.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, but she’s already inside my room, tossing a dress at me.

“Put this on,” she says. “Quickly.”

Something in her tone makes my stomach drop, and I change as fast as I can, not caring that she’s watching.

The moment I slip on my shoes, she grabs my arm and practically drags me from the room, down the halls, and into the courtyard, where a few people have gathered near the center fountain. Katerina, Nathanial, Sebastian, and Aurora, each of them accompanied by their handlers. They must be the early risers—although I wouldn’t know, since I’ve never been the type to wake up early.

They’re all just standing in a circle, staring at something in the center.

I hurry toward the commotion, weaving through the onlookers, my heart hammering so hard it’s like it’s trying to claw its way out of my chest.

Then, midway there, I see it.

No—I see him.

Jake.

He’s sprawled on the ground beside the fountain, lifeless and crumpled like a discarded doll. His skin is pale—too pale. His eyes, wide open, stare at nothing. They look wrong, the life drained from them, their usual glint of hopeful humor replaced with a glassy, vacant emptiness.

But it’s his throat that makes the bile swirl in my stomach. A single, clean slice that gapes like a second mouth. The wound is grotesquely precise, as if whoever did this took their time, making sure it was perfect.

I don’t remember moving, but suddenly I’m standing between Sebastian and Aurora. Neither of them looks at me. No one does. Their gazes are glued to Jake, their expressions frozen masks of fear and revulsion.

This can’t be happening.

It doesn’t make sense .

All the moments I’ve shared with Jake flash through my mind in a dizzying blur—his attempted charm during swim lessons, his boyish grin when he explained penguin courtship rituals, and the way he kissed me here in this courtyard, tentative and hopeful.

Despite how defensive he was yesterday, I do think he cared for me. Not love, but something he believed was love.

How could that Jake be the same person lying in front of me now, empty and discarded?

Part of me wants to believe I’ll wake up from this nightmare at any second. The other, more practical part knows this isn’t a dream. It’s too real—too vivid.

Jake’s gone. He’s never coming back. And, as much as I don’t want to believe it’s true, every single instinct in my body is saying that this happened because of me. It lines up too perfectly with the incident in the garden yesterday not to be connected.

My gaze darts away, desperate to find something to focus on other than Jake’s body.

It lands on the fountain, which is turned off.

But the basin isn’t empty.

Instead of the usual watery blood mixture that flows through it, there’s something thicker. Darker. More viscous.

It’s no longer watered-down blood.

It’s pure blood .

My stomach churns, and I stagger back, barely catching myself before crashing into Aurora.

It’s his blood. It has to be.

“There was a note,” Jake’s handler says, and then he’s in front of me, showing it to me, as if it was written to me.

The paper is thick and expensive, the message inked in elegant script.

If anyone threatens her or touches her again, they’ll share his fate.

My heart slams against my ribs as I read the sentence over and over again, as if it might change if I will it to. But of course, it stays the same.

Jake didn’t deserve this. Not for what he did yesterday. I was angry with him, furious even—but this?

Sure, I scratched him with that rake. But I never wanted him dead.

“I need to see Aerix,” I say, trembling as I take a step back. “Now.”

Aurora catches my arm. “Zoey, wait?—”

“No.” I shake her off, turning to Aethelthryth. “Take me to Aerix’s quarters. Please.”

Technically, I have no say around here. I’m just a human, and even though Aethelthryth is only a servant, she’s still fae. She outranks me. I probably shouldn’t be asking her to do anything for me at all, and I especially shouldn’t be demanding her to take me to Aerix’s quarters.

However, she’s also only shown me kindness so far. And I’d like to think it never hurts to ask… but the scene in front of me makes it clear that in the Night Court, anything can hurt—and it can hurt hard. But I’ve already asked, so I might as well wait for an answer instead of taking it back.

Aethelthryth studies me for a long moment, her wings shifting uneasily. “Are you sure that’s wise?” she finally says.

“I don’t care if it’s wise.” Relief fills me at the fact that she didn’t say no, and I scramble for my next words, since my thoughts are a storm of shock. “Aerix killed Jake because I scratched him with that stupid rake. This is my fault.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Aurora says firmly, surprising me by jumping into the conversation. “Jake’s actions were his own.”

“And now he’s dead because of them,” I snap. “Because Aerix decided to?—”

I can’t finish the sentence. Because even though I’m purposefully not looking at him, the image of Jake’s slit throat is burned into my mind, along with the knowledge that his blood is filling that fountain right now.

Somehow, through the horror, the blood is one of the worst things here. Because Aerix couldn’t even bother using it for sustenance. He just left it there. For all of us to see.

No… he left it there as a threat.

Aurora glances back and forth between Aethelthryth and me.

“It might not be a bad idea to take her to him,” she finally says. “So she can learn.”

Aethelthryth lets out a low sigh, her gaze heavy with something between pity and frustration, and turns her focus back to me.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks.

“Yes.” I don’t need a second to think about it. “I want to see him.”

“I can’t promise he’ll want to see you,” she says, and she studies me again, as if she’s sizing me up. “But I’ll take you to him. And if you need anything, remember I’ll be right outside his doors.”