Page 16

Sapphire

Montauk is eerily quiet when we arrive.

The ocean stretches out beside us, restless and dark, waves slamming against the shore in slow, steady crashes. Almost like Poseidon himself is warning us about what’s to come.

The house that the cloaked girl’s map led us to sits near the pier, abandoned-looking and skeletal. Paint peels in strips from its wooden siding, and the windows are dark and vacant, like empty eyes watching us approach.

Riven pulls up next to it, stops, and kills the engine.

Neither of us moves.

The space between us is charged with so much energy that every muscle in my body feels too tight, like a string about to snap.

“This is it,” he finally says, eying the house like it personally offended him.

“Perfect,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest as I size up our new nightmare. “I much prefer haunted cabins to igloos and ice caves.”

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel before turning to look at me. And when his silver eyes meet mine, something flickers in them—something dark and unreadable. And for a moment, I swear it almost softens.

Then it’s gone, like a shadow swallowed by the night.

“And here I thought we had such educational times in the cave and igloos,” he says, and I rip off my seatbelt, hurrying out of the car.

I need distance. Space. Air that doesn’t smell like him—like winter, pine, and everything I’m trying to forget.

Behind me, he follows, moving with that infuriatingly smooth grace of his and popping the trunk open. “Let’s see what Cloaked Girl left us,” he says, and I step beside him, careful not to stand too close.

It’s quickly evident that Cloaked Girl didn’t pack for an average road trip.

“That’s a lot of preparation for a mysterious girl who appeared out of nowhere,” I say, frowning as I reach in, brushing my fingers over an ancient-looking clay cup nestled among the supplies.

He picks up one of the daggers and tests its weight. “You prefer being unprepared?” he asks as he offers it to me handle first, as controlled as always. “Here. Since you enjoy stabbing me so much, you might as well have a backup.”

The memory slams into me, swift and merciless.

The slice of my blade cutting through his skin. The scent of his blood hitting the air—cold, metallic, and painfully tempting.

Even now, the phantom scent lingers, making my body react in ways I refuse to acknowledge.

And from the way he tilts his head, watching me with that quiet, unreadable intensity that makes me feel like he’s peeling back my defenses, he’s definitely noticing the insufferable way his comment affected me.

I glare at him and snatch the dagger, careful not to touch his skin.

“That is so not happening again,” I say, and he glances at my hands, sharp and assessing.

“You keep telling yourself that,” he replies with that infuriating edge to his voice that means he thinks he’s won.

Magic stirs inside me, making the wind shift and the waves crash harder.

I force myself to turn back to the supplies, but even when I don’t see him, I feel him.

And that’s what I hate the most.

He pulls out a small pouch, frowning slightly.“Barley and... honeycomb?” he says. “Hardly seems worth the trunk space.”

I lean in closer, inhaling when his scent hits me too fast, too hard. Winter and pine. The sharp, familiar bite of frost.

My pulse trips over itself. A reaction I can’t control, no matter how much I want to.

Why does he still smell the same? Why can’t my body forget the way it felt to press against him in the cold? Why can’t I just stop?—

“Sapphire?” His gaze narrows, and I feel his magic pressing closer, wrapping around me like a winter storm. “Are you okay?”

It’s a simple question. But the way he asks it makes my ribs feel like they’re caving in.

Like he already knows the answer. Like he actually cares about the answer.

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing myself to look away and grab the next item in the trunk like my life depends on it.

His gaze lingers. He doesn’t believe me.

But he lets it go. For now.

“There’s a wineskin, too,” I say, willing my voice back to normal, even though it’s definitely shaking a bit. “With instructions to not drink it.”

“Because we always follow instructions so well,” he replies, looking away from me to study the dark liquid inside.

I narrow my eyes at him.

Focus. Just focus.

“The note says it’s ‘for those who no longer taste,’” I read, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my skin. “Which sounds ominous enough that I’d rather not test it.”

“Your self-preservation instincts are improving. I’m almost proud,” he says, setting down the wineskin and pulling out an herb wrapped in cloth. “Although this one’s apparently for me to eat before reaching the island.”

I cross my arms. “Lucky you. Maybe it’s poison.”

His lips curve into something sharp. “Your concern is touching.”

“I try my best.”

We spend the next few minutes analyzing the contents of the trunk, which also holds a waterproof pack for us to put everything in, and some food.

All of it vegetarian.

At the sight of it, the hunger for blood slams into me again. A deep, gnawing ache curling beneath my ribs.

“You need to hunt,” Riven says, and I hate that he notices.

I hate how he’s always so in tune with me, no matter how unreadable he is. And I hate that part of me—some deep, instinctual part—wants him to be in tune with me.

“Someone needs to protect all this stuff,” he continues, as if unaware of my internal battle, even though the wind’s picking up around us. “You stay close to it. I’ll see if there are any rabbits or squirrels in the backyard of our haunted resort.”

I have no idea why, but it’s enough to make me snap.

“You are so not offering me room service of rabbits and squirrels,” I say, and with one final glare, I turn and stalk toward the woods.

“Stay close, Princess,” he calls afterward. “I want to be able to hear you if you scream.”

“Don’t worry,” I toss back over my shoulder, flashing him a sharp smile. “If I scream, it won’t be for you.”

With that, I storm toward the woods with the wind blowing behind me.

And while it’s cold and cutting, it’s not nearly as cold as the look I know Riven’s giving me as I disappear into the trees.