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She hated that she reacted to her mother like this, but more than that, she hated that there was a part of her that still yearned for a connection with the woman who had given birth to her. She didn’t want to have a strained relationship with Tertia, didn’t want to tense when she approached.

What would it be like to smell vanilla and feel only love, not fear and trepidation?

She’d probably never know. River had no idea why her mother was so cold towards her, only that she was.

Goose bumps erupted on River’s arms as the temperature dropped. Her dress was an inadequate barrier against the sudden cold, and her magic swirled in her veins. Whatever calm she’d felt earlier evaporated into thin air .

The party continued behind them, but River could barely hear the celebrations through the haze of her panic.

“Ah. My children.” The icy tones of Tertia Waterborn’s voice came from behind River. Devoid of warmth and maternal care, there was nothing kind about the Representative’s tone.

A strange rustling sound that River couldn’t quite place filled the air, but she wasn’t ready to turn around and see what it was.

Tertia added, “So nice of you both to make it.”

Ryker smiled. Most people would think the fae captain was happy, but River recognized the tightness of her brother’s mouth and the vein pulsing in his jaw. He slid his hand into Brynleigh’s, drawing her close against his side.

River didn’t miss that her brother stood slightly in front of his wife. Protecting her.

“Of course, we came, Mother.” Ryker’s voice was calm and moderate. “We would never dream of missing your party.”

Maybe he wouldn’t, but River definitely would. She’d rather be upstairs, spending the night at her father’s side.

Those were inside thoughts, though. She’d never dare say something like that out loud. Not when she was already perpetually in trouble with the Representative. Being snarky would only make things worse.

A sniff came from beside River, and then Tertia appeared in her peripheral vision.

Well, at least now she knew what had made the rustling.

Tertia was certainly taking the “winter” part of Winter Solstice seriously.

Her form-hugging gown was a piece of wearable art, the blue fabric so pale it was nearly white.

The elaborate dress was covered in layers of fringe that ran from her collarbone to her toes, but instead of beads, hundreds of tiny icicles dangled from the clear threads.

No wonder the air was cold. Tertia must’ve been using her magic to keep the dress frozen. She was a walking ice sculpture, which tracked in more ways than one.

“Good evening.” River kissed her mother on the cheek, careful not to touch the icicles. “Everything looks wonderful.”

The Representative arched a manicured brown brow. Even though she and River were the same height, Tertia managed to look down her nose at her daughter.

“Of course, it does,” Tertia said smoothly. “We Waterborns have a reputation to uphold. Surely you haven’t forgotten that after your time in Lakewater.”

Internally, a sigh that could’ve levelled mountains echoed through River. She hadn’t even been in her mother’s presence for thirty seconds, and she was already getting lectured. That had to be some kind of record.

Externally, River kept her face serene. Peaceful, even. She was determined to get through a conversation with her mother without fighting, even if it killed her. Eliza Fern would be so proud.

River smiled tightly. “I would never forget what it means.”

How could she, when the meaning had been drilled into her since the day of her birth?

The tension in the air ratcheted up as Tertia’s gaze dropped to River’s gloves. She stared at them as if she could see through the expensive silk to the floral tattoos beneath. Between the sleeves of River’s dress and the gloves, the markings were completely covered as long as River stood still.

“I see you had the decency to hide those monstrosities you call tattoos.” The Representative’s brow was so high River was surprised it didn’t hit her hairline. “How do they allow you into the hospital when you’ve defiled your body in such a flagrant, disrespectful manner?”

River clamped her mouth shut so fast, copper flooded her mouth. Her mother’s words were daggers, wielded with precision to inflict as much pain as possible.

What was a bitten tongue when compared to a mother’s hatred?

River would be lying if she said the black floral sleeve that ran from her right hand to her shoulder wasn’t a gentle, not-so-subtle Fuck you to her gem of a mother.

What surprised her was that her mother was mentioning the tattoos.

Usually, the Representative just stared at River’s arm with obvious disdain.

“Mother!” Ryker exclaimed, a growl rumbling through his chest as he stepped towards them. “River looks beautiful tonight, as always.”

“She’s stunning in that silver gown,” Brynleigh agreed, staying in step with her husband.

One of the vampire’s wings brushed River’s shoulder in a show of support.

Gods, River wished she had wings. She would keep them out all the time, and no one would ever get too close to her. How nice would that be?

Keeping people away from her and her curse would be so much easier if she could just shove them away. It would be delightful.

A sound of derision rose in Tertia’s throat. Whether it was from Ryker and Brynleigh standing up for River, or because no one had replied to the matriarch yet, River wasn’t sure.

Tertia’s painted lips flattened, and tension ratcheted up, up, up.

Was everyone having trouble breathing, or was it just River? Her lungs tried to draw breath, but no air reached them .

She hated this, hated being around Tertia, hated being made to feel like a naughty child.

River was supposed to be focusing on keeping Nikhail at arm’s length, but how could she do that and deal with her horrid mother at the same time? She used to think she was great at multi-tasking, but it turned out, that might not be correct.

What an awful moment to come to such a conclusion about oneself.

After what felt like a lifetime, a masculine throat cleared.

“I’ve had the distinct pleasure of receiving your daughter’s medical care, Representative Waterborn.

” Nikhail stepped forward, his head tilted as his gaze swept over Tertia.

Was River imagining it, or were the air fae’s eyes darker than normal?

“I can assure you, not only are her tattoos as beautiful as the rest of her, but they don’t impede her medical abilities in the slightest.”

Tertia’s eyes narrowed, and icicles clinked as she angled her head, turning her attention to Nikhail. No one else moved. The air itself seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

Even the party, which was still happening behind them, seemed silent compared to the growing strain in their small group.

River didn’t think her mother would cause a scene tonight.

This was her party, after all, and she cared far too much about outward appearances.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t react, though.

If there was one thing Tertia was extremely skilled at, it was making her displeasure known with a few words aimed like arrows.

Shifting her weight from one heeled foot to the other, River’s mind swirled.

She should have been focusing all her mental energy on how to get out of this, but all she could think about was how Nikhail had stood up for her.

He could’ve let the Representative berate River without saying anything, but he didn’t.

He put himself in Tertia’s line of fire for her.

The barriers around River’s heart were shaking as if he’d thrown a stick of dynamite on them. She couldn’t even think of the last time someone other than Ryker had stood up for her.

River was certain that if her father had been healthy, he would’ve stopped his wife from speaking to her the way she did. But he wasn’t, thanks to the illness ravaging his body.

Not only was the Stillness stealing Cyrus’s life, but it had taken a protector away from River. She’d never told her father how badly Tertia treated her, not wanting to waste any of the rare, precious moments when he was alert.

“Is that so?” Tertia flexed her fingers and tilted her head, staring at Nikhail. She was a lion, studying her next meal.

Nikhail, extremely reckless male that he was, didn’t seem to understand that he was a lamb about to be devoured. That was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave. River wasn’t sure which. Either way, she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of her.

“It is.” Nikhail stepped around the Representative, coming to stand next to River. The back of his hand brushed against hers, and shivers raced up her arm. By the Black Sands, what was he doing?

The walls around her heart shook, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react .

Too late. The first touch could’ve been an accident, but when he touched her again , she knew he was doing it on purpose.

His hand was warm and big and offered security in the face of her awful mother, and she desperately wanted to take it. To gather Nikhail’s warmth around her and never let go.

No! River shouted at herself.

This could not happen. She would not allow it.

She had to stay strong, had to remember all the reasons why she and Nikhail could never be involved with each other. Sure, his hand felt ridiculously nice pressed against hers, but it wasn’t like a single touch took the curse out of her veins. It didn’t solve her problems. Not really.

The problem was that even though River’s mind knew that staying away from Nikhail was the right thing to do, her body and soul seemed to have a different idea. Even her magic seemed less troublesome right now. Calmer. Easier to manage.

Traitors, the lot of them.

All of River’s resolutions from earlier, all the reasons why she couldn’t possibly be in a relationship with anyone, let alone Nikhail, seemed further away than ever before. She was having a hard time remembering why she couldn’t let him get too close.

It was this very public show of support. It was one thing for him to help her with her storm in Lakewater when it was just the two of them, but this was different.

Tertia’s shrewd eyes swept over them, freezing when she saw where the back of Nikhail’s hand was touching River’s.

Did the temperature drop even further?

River yanked her hand away as if Nikhail had burned her, but it was too late. She was certain her mother had seen his touch. For his part, Nikhail didn’t seem worried, but that was because he didn’t know how cruel Tertia could be.

“Well, then.” The Representative took a step back, her eyes returning to Nikhail’s. “Perhaps my daughter can do one thing correctly. ”

Even though they were no longer touching, River felt Nikhail bristle beside her. Before the air fae could do something foolish, like further antagonize Tertia and make an enemy for life, River hooked her pinky finger through his.

This isn’t for me , she reasoned. It’s for Nikhail.

To save him from Tertia’s wrath. To pull his attention away from her mother.

It worked.

Nikhail glanced down at her, a lock of black hair settling on his forehead as he arched a questioning brow. Gods, those eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she could lose herself in them forever. They seemed made for her in a way that didn’t really make sense.

But she had to remember her task. Before she could second-guess herself—or remind herself of the many reasons why this was a terrible idea—River asked, “Would you like to dance, Nik?”

Dancing was a safe activity, one that people did with their friends all the time. It would be a few minutes, she would keep the walls around her heart strong, and she’d get Nikhail out of Tertia’s warpath.

It was a fantastic solution, and she was proud of herself for coming up with it so quickly. Besides, no one fell in love from a single turn on the dancefloor. What a ridiculous notion.

“I’d love to.” Nikhail offered River his arm, his mouth kicking into a glowing smile.

Maybe… maybe this wasn’t the best idea. That one look threatened to shatter her resolve and ruin everything.

But she couldn’t back down now. It would invite too many questions, and Tertia was still here.

Sliding her hand onto Nikhail’s offered limb, River hardened the walls around her heart and reminded herself of her plans.

I am death , she told herself. And no one can be with death. No one can love death .

Bringers of destruction were doomed to lives of loneliness, and she would do well to remember that.

Tertia turned to Ryker, effectively dismissing River. “So, my son. What’s this I hear about you and your vampire deciding to bond…”

The rest of their conversation was lost to the crowd as Nikhail led River to the dance floor. The air fae moved with smooth grace as he clasped her left hand in his right one, drawing her close. His other hand snaked around her lower back and splayed around her skin.

Shivers cascaded down River’s back like snow falling off a roof, and she inhaled sharply.

Oh, gods. This definitely wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. In the heat of the moment of dealing with her mother, River had forgotten that the back of her dress was practically non-existent.

That fact was impossible to overlook now that Nikhail’s hand was a brand, stretching across her lower spine. His pinky brushed against the swell of her ass. Yes, this had been a mistake. She’d sooner be able to ignore the magic coursing through her veins than forget that he was touching her.

Panic streaked through her, and she would’ve stumbled if not for his hold on her.

By the Black Sands, this was the worst idea she’d ever had. Causing a scene would’ve been better than this.

Before she could find a way out of this, before she could properly reinforce the walls around her heart and remind herself that she was the Cursed One and she could not do this, the orchestra began the next song.

Just like that, it was too late. Trapped in a problem of her own making, River was swept onto the dancefloor in Nikhail’s arms.

This was not a bad place to be. Despite his size, the man moved with grace and ease and poise.

It made sense, she supposed, since he was one with the air.

Music swelled, and he led her through the dance as though they’d been partners a thousand times before.

He was strong and capable and a brilliant dancer.

Internally, River swore. As she moved in time with her partner, their steps perfectly in tune, she realized she might have been wrong earlier.

One dance could destroy every good intention she had of keeping Nikhail at bay.