Page 10

Fury roars to life inside me and explodes outward, savage and lethal, slicing through Cetus in a burst of glittering violence.

Sapphire convulses in my arms, fresh wounds ripping across her body, mirroring the ones I carved into the monster.

“No!” I choke out, horror consuming me as I hold her tighter, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice shaking, my soul fracturing, my entire existence breaking apart. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Cetus laughs, a cruel, weakened rasp. Even bleeding—even barely standing—he laughs.

Beautiful,he says, his voice echoing in my mind with sadistic satisfaction.Your suffering is exquisite.

I cradle Sapphire close, my grip desperate, as if holding her tighter can prevent the inevitable. But her blood stains my skin, and the darkness at the edges of my vision whispers the cruelest truth of all—every attempt I’ve made to save her has pushed her closer to death.

One more strike might kill her.

And one more strike can save her—if she’s the one who makes it.

“You just need to sit up,” I beg, praying to any god in the universe who might still care about me that she’ll listen. “Throw your dagger at his heart. Use your air magic to guide it. You’ll get it on the first try.”

She lifts a shaking hand, her bloodied fingers brushing my cheek, and I lean into the touch, starving for it.

“No,” she whispers again, her voice soft and fragile, already fading.

I close my eyes briefly.

Hold it together,I think, and then I open my eyes again, letting her see the agony that’s destroying me from within. Because maybe if she sees how shattered I am, she’ll fight for herself—forus.

“If you don’t do it, I’ll lose you.” My voice is hoarse, wrecked in a way that I didn’t know was possible. “And I’d rather you put a blade through my heart than watch you die.”

Her hand tightens around my wrist, but there’s no strength left in her grip. She’s barely holding on, barely here, barely breathing.

And it’s all my fault.

My gaze shifts to the cut on my arm, to my sacrifice bleeding onto the sand.

It’s deeper than I intended. Too deep.

Or maybe it was exactly what I intended. Because I’d rather bleed out next to her than live without her.

“It has to be you,” she chokes out, pleading with eyes bright from pain and grief. “You’re the one with the strength right now to do it. You have to be the one who lives.”

I exhale sharply and press my forehead to hers, desperate for any connection, for any warmth that might anchor us together.

I don’t accept what she’s saying. Ican’t.

“I’m an insufferable, arrogant Winter Prince, remember?” I say roughly, tightening my hold. “I don’t take orders, I don’t listen, and I don’t play by anyone’s rules. So if you think I’m going to keep existing in an empty, meaningless version of reality that doesn’t have you in it, then you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

She’s silent for a moment, and I think she’s going to say okay.

I should have known her better.

“No,” she whispers fiercely, the single word sharp enough to pierce my heart. “You don’t get to choose this for me.”

There she is—my fiery, star touched princess who’s shattered pieces of my soul I didn’t know existed.

“Maybe not,” I say, my voice thick with emotion, “but I get to choose what I can live with. And I sure as hell can’t live without you.”

Leaving no room for argument, I lower us onto the cosmic sand, cradling her with the soul-crushing knowledge that this is the last time I ever will.

SAPPHIRE