Midnight Fae Academy #3 by Lexi C. Foss

I walkedinto Kols’s bedroom and paused at the sight of him bending over the bench at the foot of his bed.

“Almost ready,” he said without looking at me, his focus on tying his shoe.

I leaned against the doorway and folded my arms, more than content to enjoy the view of him in that all-black suit. Our relationship had deepened over the last few weeks, the blood ties to Aflora and each other stirring foreign sensations inside of my soul that left me evaluating life a little differently.

Kols had bitten me, taking charge of our relationship in a way he’d never done before.

Then he’d submitted to me in the next moment, knowing that it was what I needed.

The male I’d known all my life had grown into a man so far beyond my worth. I had no idea why or when he’d chosen me. Fae knew I didn’t deserve him. But as he turned to face me now, his golden irises swirling with power, I couldn’t claim a single regret.

Except for our missing link.

Aflora.

“I wish she were here, too,” Kols said, sauntering up to me.

“Reading my mind?”

“More like your expression,” he replied. He slid his palm around the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss, his boldness flooring me. I grasped his throat, squeezing it a little as I took control of the kiss with my tongue.

He pressed his groin to mine as fire ignited between us.

We hadn’t touched each other like this since the other night, our focus on other things. But the bond was alive and hot between us, begging Kols to finish it with a final bite.

Between Kols and Aflora, I felt so utterly complete that I almost didn’t recognize myself. They’d breathed new life into my lungs, given my heart a reason to beat, and provoked a sizzling heat inside me that begged to be sated.

I needed her.

I needed him.

I needed them.

My teeth skimmed his lip, threatening to bite. I could feel him urging me to do it through our partially formed link. We couldn’t hear each other, not quite. But years of experience coupled with the deepened bond had left us with new insight.

“Zeph,” he groaned, his grip tightening on the back of my neck. “I—”

The clearing of a throat cut off whatever he’d been about to say, the presence behind me reminding me that I’d left the door wide open.

Fuck.

“Look, I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors. But please be mindful that others live in this house. And your mother would not appreciate this.” Malik Nacht’s voice held his usual chastising undertone, but a hint of amusement lurked in his golden irises as I slowly turned to face him.

The Elite Blood King had been in an unusually good mood the last few days, which Kols and I didn’t understand. Everything had gone to hell with Aflora. Shade couldn’t locate her, at least as far as the Council was concerned, and Kols had technically failed his trial. Yet Malik had proceeded as though everything was normal, going as far as to invite me into their home like he used to do when I served as Kols’s primary Guardian.

“Sorry, Dad,” Kols said, his shoulder bumping mine as he came to stand beside me. “Everything set for the Blood Gala?”

“Yep. Just a few things we need to go over first. And Zeph’s missing a key piece of his attire.”

I frowned, looking down over my all-black suit—the exact same style as Kols’s suit, only his tie was skinnier than mine. I glanced at him to see my confusion reflected in his expression.

Malik slipped a hand into his jacket to pull out a box. He handed it to me with an expectant look. “I believe this goes on your lapel.”

My heart stopped.

It can’t be…

He doesn’t mean…

I looked at Kols again and caught the same glimmer in his eye as I felt in my chest. Hope.

It took all my willpower not to outwardly react. Warrior Bloods were taught to be stoic. Hard. Tough. I couldn’t afford to show any ounce of emotion, especially if this was what I thought it might be.

I cleared my throat and lifted the lid, the familiar gold-and-red pendant inside blinking up at me beneath the lighting. My Guardian pin.

Malik had taken this from me after everything that went down with Dakota. And now… now he was giving it back… “Does this mean I’m reinstated?” I asked, my voice forcibly flat.

“Yes,” Malik replied. “I think you have been for a while. This just makes it official.” He clapped me on the shoulder, then turned to Kols. “Now we need to talk about tonight. There are some things I haven’t told you.”

Just like that, the moment was done.

Congratulations, Zeph. Your fuckup is officially forgiven. You can hereby continue risking your life for my son. Moving on…

My eyes nearly rolled, but I forced my features to remain uncaring and instead focused on his commentary concerning the Blood Gala.

He started with the usual bullshit regarding toasts and celebrations of Midnight Fae independence from the Quandary Blood’s nefarious interference.

It was all the typical political gnat-crap until he said, “And I’ve taken the liberty of writing your speech.” He slid a paper from his pocket. “Given the complexities of our current position, particularly with your grandfather calling for a delay in the ascension, I thought it best that I prepare this for you. If you deliver it right, then at this time next year, you should be well on your way to taking over my throne.”

The words “If you don’t deliver it right” seemed to hang between us unsaid. A lingering threat that required compliance.

Or perhaps his father just didn’t see any alternative.

Kols glanced at the note, his eyes hardening as he read. “Right,” he said when he finished. “Thank you, Father.”

Father, not Dad.

That indicated he wasn’t thrilled by whatever speech Malik had drafted for him.

“Brilliant,” his father replied, obviously oblivious to his son’s displeasure. “Now there’s just one more thing I need to make you aware of, as I don’t want the announcement to blindside you later.” He paused to look at me, considering. “Well, you’re reinstated, so it can’t hurt to bring you in on the secret. You are protecting the future king, after all.”

I blinked, doing my best not to react.

But I really did not like where this was going.

“The efforts to find Aflora have proven difficult, and we’ve unfortunately not located her yet. But Chern and Shadow were able to identify the whereabouts of someone else that the Elders have been hunting for over a thousand years.”

Kols tensed. “Who?”

“Zenaida,” Malik replied, his golden irises swirling with triumph. “The Warrior Bloods are on their way to take her into custody now. And we intend to present her for justice as our closing act.”

“Zenaida, as in the former Midnight Fae Queen?” I asked, making sure I understood this announcement correctly.

“Exactly. The woman who turned her back on us all for her mates. We’ve finally found her.” Malik had given up trying to contain his excitement. Apparently, the act of hunting down a female fae and making a show of her was what got him off at night.

“I thought she was dead,” I replied, doing my best not to lose my shit. Because what the fuck?

“So did we all,” Malik said. “And soon, she will be.” He uttered that last part with the glee of a villain looking forward to his next crime.

Kols forced a smile. “Well done, Father. I’m sure Constantine is thrilled.”

“He’s off with the Warrior Bloods now, ensuring all goes to plan,” Malik replied. “Well. Best to leave you to it. See you in a few. And do try to be kind to Emelyn tonight. She’ll be your mate soon.”

He left in a swirl of black, disappearing down the hallway with a hitch in his step that indicated his excitement over the coming events.

I shut the door and locked it, then turned just as Tray and Ella burst into the room, clearly having been listening through the adjoining door to Tray’s rooms.

“Did I hear that right?” Tray demanded. Shade gave up the location of his grandmother? And the Warrior Bloods are on their way to capture her and bring her to the party to put her on trial?”

“A fancy phrase for torture and kill her,” I muttered, knowing exactly what Malik Nacht and the Council intended to do.

“That’s my highest concern,” Kols said, his focus on the door.

“Aflora?” Tray guessed. “Is she with Zenaida?”

“No, she’s with Zakkai. She’s fine.” Kols turned to me. “Zeph. That man was not my father.”

“What?”

“The magic around him was all wrong. And my father would never celebrate the trial of a fae in such a public setting. Either he’s been bespelled or someone was wearing his skin. And this?” He held up the speech. “This is not something my father would ever ask me to say.”

He handed me the speech as though to prove it to me.

Only three sentences in and I had to agree. “You’re right. This has your grandfather written all over it.”

“Something’s very wrong,” Kols said.

I nodded. Aflora? I called, opening our link.

Silence.

I frowned and tried again.

More silence.

“Aflora’s not answering me,” I said, my brow furrowing. “But our link isn’t closed. It’s… it’s almost like all I hear is static.”

“Fuck. This isn’t good.” Kols took the note back and slid it into his pants, then began to pace. “Can we try to locate Shade?”

Normally, I’d laugh at such a ridiculous request. But I was fresh out of amusement at the moment. “I don’t know how to find him.”

“I don’t either,” Tray added.

Aflora?I tried for a third time, hoping that maybe I’d just messed up for the first two calls.

Still nothing.

“You don’t think she would try to attend the gala, do you?” I asked, thinking out loud.

Kols stopped to glance at me. “Who? Aflora?”

“Yes.”

He snorted and resumed his trek around the room. “Why would she attend?”

“Why would Zakkai allow her to dream of us every night?” I countered.

“To make her more agreeable.”

“Yes, to what end?” I pressed. “We’ve known from the beginning that he’s wanted something from her. That was his reason for allowing her to talk to us. What if attending the Blood Gala was his request?”

“He’d be insane to come here. The Warrior Bloods are tripled around the border tonight. Not to mention the myriad of wards and spells. He’d die upon arrival.”

“He’s the Source Architect,” I reminded him. “He can undo all that.”

“To what purpose? To crash the gala?” Kols started to chuckle at the thought, then slowly came to a halt again. “The Warrior Bloods are looking for Zenaida.” He whirled around to face me. “That means there are fewer guards than usual. Because they’re distracted.”

“Do you think he’s planning something?”

“I think if he is, he’s going to have hell to pay for it,” Kols replied. “And that doesn’t explain whatever the hell that just was with my father. Or the fucking speech.”

True. I palmed the back of my neck, trying to think and coming up blank. “Maybe Shade will be at the gala.”

“Not likely,” Tray interjected. “He’s never attended before.”

“If he’s up to something, he’ll be there tonight,” I countered. And that Death Blood was always up to something.

“Maybe we should go check it out,” Ella suggested. “See what’s happening.”

“It’s too early,” Kols replied, his shoes wearing a hole in the floor as he paced. “I have to wait for Emelyn to arrive as well.” He uttered that phrase through his teeth, his annoyance palpable.

He’d tried several times this week to convince his father to allow him to attend alone, but it was no use. Traditions were important to the Nacht family.

“I could go early,” I said. “Actually, I could go now, then meet up with you after you arrive to fill you in with my findings.”

It was the best plan I could come up with given everything.

And the look Kols gave me said he agreed.

“I’m not giving that speech,” he muttered. “I’d sooner out my mating to you all first.”

My lips twitched. “I’d enjoy that speech.”

“Yeah, up until the point the Elders call for our deaths, I’m sure,” he drawled.

I plucked the pin from the box in my hand, then tossed the container aside and made a show of adorning my Guardian symbol. “I don’t care if it was your father or not. I’m keeping this.”

“It’s where it belongs,” Kols replied, walking up to me again and grabbing my face between his palms. “Don’t do anything brash.”

“I don’t do brash.”

“Not usually, no,” he agreed. “But Aflora has a tendency to encourage us to act out of character.”

My lips twitched. He wasn’t wrong. “I’ll behave.”

“Well, now that’s not what I said at all,” he replied, a hint of teasing in his tone. He pressed his lips to mine, which seemed to only accentuate his commentary regarding us acting out of character. Because he never used to be this bold with me. And never in front of others.

Sure, Tray knew we fucked around.

But we kept it private.

And the way Kols was kissing me now was very much the opposite of private.

It was downright indecent, and I returned the favor by sinking my teeth into his lower lip and drawing blood. His golden irises swirled in response as I laved the wound.

Then I took a step back before he could repeat the action on my lip.

We weren’t ready for the final stage yet.

Not without Aflora.

“I’ll find you later,” I vowed. “Try not to kill Emelyn while I’m gone.”

Kols grunted. “I’m not promising anything.”

I smirked, then I nodded to a bemused Tray. He seemed speechless after the display of affection between me and Kols. Meanwhile, Ella was just grinning like a loon.

I rolled my eyes and let myself out.

Aflora, I murmured into the void of our connection. If I find out you’re here, I’m going to bend you over a table and spank your ass, then fuck you raw.

No reply.

My jaw ticked.

I should be able to at least sense her, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing. Almost as though she’d been completely sealed off from me… like when she had the collar around her throat.

I paused midstep, my eyebrows lifting. Oh, fuck...