Page 36

Sapphire

The vision floods my senses, drowning me in its unbearable weight.

Zoey and Riven—lifeless.

Blood pools beneath them, dark and endless, soaking into the earth like a wound that will never close. It coats my hands, slick and warm, staining my skin with something I can never wash away.

In the vision, there’s no grief in my eyes. No rage, no sorrow, not even satisfaction. Just a monster wrapped in my skin, staring at their broken bodies as if they’re nothing more than pieces of a puzzle.

A sob rises in my throat, choking me. Strangling me.

But before it can escape, strong arms wrap around me, pulling me back into something real.

Into something solid.

Into him.

Riven. My Riven.

He’s alive. Solid, unmoving, and steady in a way I desperately need him to be. I clutch at him like if I hold tightly enough, I can anchor myself in the firmness of his body and erase what I’m seeing in the Tides.

His arms tighten around me, his breath cool against my temple. “I’m right here,” he murmurs. “What we’re seeing—it’s not real.”

But I can’t look away as future-me kneels beside Zoey, checking her pulse with cold, precise movements. Like she’s performing a routine inspection and not kneeling over her best friend’s corpse.

Then, as if satisfied, she brushes a strand of hair from Zoey’s face, but her expression doesn’t change.

No pain. No grief.

Just nothing.

She turns to the Riven in the vision next, her fingers trailing across his bloodied cheek. Her head tilts, studying him with detached curiosity, as if he were nothing more than a broken artifact.

A shudder rakes through me, panic clawing up my throat. Wind whips around us in chaotic spirals, and droplets of water rise from the cosmic void, suspended and trembling like the tears I can’t seem to stop.

How could I be finally starting to get him back, only to have him die on me? To be the one to kill him?

This can’t be right. It can’t be true.

“Look at me.” My Riven’s voice is urgent now, edged with something close to fear as he turns me to face him, forcing my gaze away from the horror before us. “That’s not you. I know you, and that’s not you.”

“But it is,” I choke out, my voice breaking. “That’s my face, my hands—covered in your blood and Zoey’s. I killed you both.”

“No.” His grip tightens, fierce and unyielding. “You haven’t killed anyone. Like you said, this is a possible future. It’s not a certainty. And I won’t let that happen to you. I won’t let you become… that.”

But the fear is already spiraling, swallowing me whole.

What if this is what I’m destined to become? What if the vampire blood in my veins, the fae magic in my soul, and the star touched magic in my heart is leading me toward this monstrous version of myself?

What if the lead arrow didn’t just make me hateful toward Riven? What if it’s been poisoning everything about me all along?

And what if I can’t stop it?

My body trembles, and I fist my hands in Riven’s shirt, clutching at the cool fabric like it’s the only thing keeping me from breaking apart.

“Don’t let me become that.” I press my forehead against his chest, needing to remind myself that he’s here—strong and solid—and not… there. “Don’t let me hurt you or Zoey. Promise me you’ll stop me?—”

“No,” Riven growls, and suddenly, his arms wrap fully around me, crushing me against him. “I won’t make that promise, because it’s not going to come to that. Because the Sapphire I know would never hurt the people she loves.”

Love.

The word hits me like lightning, splintering through me, raw and electric.

Does he think I love him?

Does he still love me?

Am I even capable of loving him anymore? Or was my ability to love him destroyed when Eros’s arrow pierced my heart?

The version of me in the vision lingers over Riven’s body, her expression unreadable. Then, she slowly lifts her dagger, blood dripping from its edges. She studies it with a detached fascination, turning it in her grasp like she’s memorizing its weight and balance—like it’s an extension of her.

Then, she smiles.

Not a wicked grin. Not a cruel smirk.

Just a small, knowing smile.

A strangled breath catches in my throat, and my magic surges outward in a wild, desperate burst. Wind whips into a frenzy and water rises from the cosmic void, swirling like a violent storm, mirroring the chaos clawing at my insides.

But Riven holds on, unmoving, a steady presence against the fear inside me.

“I can’t lose you,” I say to him through the tears, the words torn from a place so deep I didn’t know it existed. “Not after everything. Not like this. Not because of me.”

“You won’t,” he promises, his arms tightening around me again. Not to restrain, or to control, but to hold.

His heartbeat thunders under my ear, strong and steady, a reminder that he’s here and not there. And when I eventually pull back, his silver eyes burn into mine, fierce and alive.

“How can you be so sure?” I ask, searching his face, needing him to tell me something— anything —that will make me believe it.

“Because you’re still you,” he says, his voice low, desperate for me to trust him. “You’re still the girl who gets flustered when I put my arms around her while we’re training, who projects herself through the universe, and who looks at me like I’m something worth saving—even when you have every reason to throw me away.”

I inhale sharply. Because here, with his hands on me and his frost curling around my skin, my heart aches for something I lost before I had a chance to hold onto it. Something that tugs at me to remember, if I could just think hard enough to bring it back.

“Plus, there were the other visions,” he continues, his voice steadier now, sharper, as if he just realized something. “The one with my father. And the one where I was king.”

“What about them?” I ask, although my focus drifts to the terrifying vision still playing out before us, where I’m wiping Riven and Zoey’s blood off the dagger with a sickening intensity.

My Riven turns me slightly, forcing me to look at him instead. “In the empty throne room, I was wearing the frost ring,” he says, lifting my chin so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “The Winter King’s ring. The one my father wears. The one that passes from king to king.”

I nod slowly, remembering the ring on older Riven’s finger as he pressed his palm against the window and created the delicate frost patterns that were nearly as beautiful as he is.

“Now, look at this,” he continues, motioning toward the vision of himself lying dead at my feet. “Look at my hand.”

I swallow hard. Force myself to look.

The Riven in the vision’s hand is splayed in the dirt, pale and still.

His fingers are bare.

“No frost ring,” I breathe, the understanding hitting like a rush of cold water.

“Exactly,” he says, and this time, there’s triumph in his voice. “These futures can’t both be true. I can’t be dead at your feet and alive as the Winter King at the same time. Which means you were right—the currents can be changed. We’re not seeing fixed destinies. We’re seeing possibilities.”

The panic recedes, replaced by something I can hold onto.

“Branches of the same river,” I say slowly, gripping onto my Riven’s solid— living —form.

“Yes,” he agrees, his voice edged with something desperate and fierce. “And if there are branches?—”

“Then there are choices,” I finish, the words coming out stronger this time, more confident. “We can choose a different path.”

His fingers trail down my arms, slow and deliberate. It’s not just a touch. It’s an anchor. A silent plea that lingers, like he’s memorizing the feel of me, afraid I’ll slip through his grasp if he lets go, even for a second.

In the vision, the other me rises to her feet, the dagger clutched tightly in her bloodstained hand.

“All rivers reach the sea eventually,” she calls out as she fades, as if she can somehow see and hear us. “No matter how many branches they take out along the way.”

Her voice slithers over my skin like a prophecy. Like a fate I can’t escape.

Then she’s gone, along with the battlefield and bodies, leaving Riven and me alone in the swirling, starry void once more.