Page 6

Sapphire

Lysandra leads us down a corridor lined with golden flowers, and after several turns, we stop before two ornate doors.

“Your chambers,” she tells us. “Adjacent, but separate. It would be seen as quite unbecoming for a couple to share a bed before being properly wed.”

“How kind of you to assume that we’ve always been so virtuous,” Riven says, his voice laced with pure arrogance.

Heat scorches my skin. “Clearly nothing says ‘virtue’ like bargaining away your love for someone and proposing marriage to them in the same night,” I snap back. “Leaving me with no choice but to say yes.”

“I prefer to think of it as a grand gesture. And remember—I’m not the one who took away your choice,” he replies smoothly, and then he disappears through his door—but not before throwing me one last heated look that makes my skin prickle with awareness about how everything he does is an attempt to break me more than he already has.

I’m still staring at where he disappeared when Lysandra opens the door to my room, revealing a chamber that sings of golden luxury, from the massive bed to the flowing curtains that take up an entire wall.

It’s beautiful, but all I can think about is how trapped I feel.

“I know you’re upset,” she says, closing the door behind us. “But everything I’ve done has been for your protection. For your future.”

Another burst of anger flows through me. Different from the anger I feel toward Riven, but similar at the same time.

“You gave me away at birth.” I cross my arms, refusing to sit—refusing to be pulled into whatever game she’s playing. “You don’t get to dictate my future.”

“The fae realm is built on fate,” she says without a flinch. “And your fate is exceptional.”

“Because I’m star touched?”

“Correct,” she says, and even though a chill prickles down my spine at the certainty of the word, I refuse to let her see it.

“Fate doesn’t justify manipulation,” I say instead.

“No,” she agrees. “But it demands respect. We fae understand this better than most. Because like water, fate will always find its path, regardless of our feelings about its course. No matter how much you fight it, it will shape the land as it pleases.”

“So, you’re saying I should surrender and do what everyone’s asking of me?” My magic stirs within me, the water in the small fountain by the window moving faster in response. “Let the current sweep me away and hope it doesn’t drown me more than it already has?”

“You misunderstand me.” She laughs in that twinkling, amused way of hers, stilling the water in the fountain. “Fighting the current doesn’t stop the river from flowing. But sometimes, if one is clever enough, they may learn to shape the path it takes into one they desire.”

“And let me guess.” I narrow my eyes. “You think marrying Riven is the best way to shape the current?”

“I’ve lived for over a thousand years,” she says, her voice light, almost casual. “You can deny your connection with the Winter Prince all you want, but the bond is there. As he said, he’s done everything in his power to keep you alive. To protect you.”

“Because he needs me,” I remind her. “For the potion, for this alliance?—”

“For himself,” she cuts in. “I saw the fear in his eyes when your body collapsed. That wasn’t political strategy. It was something far deeper.”

“He doesn’t love me,” I insist, my pulse pounding in my throat, pain ripping through me all over again. “And even if he ever actually did love me, the dryad took that from him.”

“She took his memories of loving you,” she corrects me. “But she couldn’t take the love itself. It’s too deeply rooted. It’s too much of who you both are.”

“You’re wrong,” I reply, believing it down to my shattered heart. “There’s nothing left. I see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He’s not the same. He’s… empty.”

The thought of it sends another rush of pain through my chest.

“Time will tell.” Lysandra’s smile turns mysterious, as if she knows something I don’t. “After all, fate—like water—has a way of wearing down even the hardest stone.”

She starts to turn, but then she pauses, her expression shifting. “Oh, and one more thing,” she says.

I straighten, bracing myself.

“About your… attraction to the Winter Prince’s blood.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “I’m not?—”

“I’m not judging you for it,” she cuts me off smoothly. “But you need to be careful. Because while our realm has no laws against vampires feeding from other supernaturals, the same cannot be said for the mortal realm. The penalty for it there is death.”

She studies me carefully, as if making sure her words are sinking in.

I take a moment to let them.

“So, if I wanted to taste Riven’s blood while in the mortal realm, then I could,” I say, standing straighter and meeting her gaze straight-on. “Without being hunted down and killed for it. Because I’m not a vampire.”

“Is that so?” She raises an eyebrow, testing me.

“Yes, it is so.” I lift my chin, steel threading through my voice. “I’m a star touched fae-vampire hybrid. Which means the laws for vampires don’t apply to me.”

“Precisely.” Her lips curve into an approving smile. “Words matter. Dissecting them is key to finding loopholes. You’ll learn, in time. But for now, you’ll need your rest for tomorrow. It’s sure to be… eventful.”

The knowing gleam in her eyes makes my skin prickle.

“You mean my forced marriage to someone who traded away his love for me without a care in the world?” I say, red-hot pain flooding my veins at the unwanted reminder.

“I mean the beginning of your destiny.” She opens the door, pausing before stepping through. “Whether you choose to embrace it or fight it is up to you.”

When she’s finally gone, I drop onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Fate. Destiny. Heritage. Marriage.

It’s too much.

And even with the wall separating us, I know Riven’s there.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him. But the memories come anyway, like a waterfall crashing into the depths below.

Waking in his arms after falling into the fae realm. My gratitude when he returned my lost bracelet to me in that tent—of knowing he went out of his way to find it. The way he whispered my name in the cave before we gave ourselves to each other for the first time, and how I reached for him while we slept in the igloos, his hands sliding over my skin with a love that no longer exists.

The promise in his eyes when he told me he’d fall in love with me all over again.

I shove the memories away as fast as they came, flipping onto my side and curling my fingers into the silk sheets.

Because those moments are from before he let the dryad take his love like it meant nothing. Before he looked at me with that cold, detached stare, like I was just another piece in his endless game of strategy.

And yet, before I fall asleep, I hear the words he spoke to me before throwing everything away.

You’re my compass, Sapphire. And you don’t just navigate the stars—you navigate my heart.