Page 14

SAPPHIRE

The only reason Riven and I come up for air is because someone clears their throat behind us.

I pull out of his arms, my cheeks flushing when I see Celeste—the goddess who star touched me—watching me and Riven getting closer and closer to what honeymooning couples usually do while enjoying their first nights of marriage.

Fantastic.

“Celeste,” I say, drawing in a breath and smoothing my hair like it’ll somehow give me back my dignity.

“,” she says with a knowing smile. “And Riven Draevor, Prince of Winter. What you two have created transcends even my expectations.”

“That’s quite the compliment coming from someone who created this.” I raise the Star Disc, admiring its beauty all over again—and desperately needing to switch the topic away from celestial PDA before I’m embarrassed to death.

I’ve already died enough for one day.

“You proved yourself worthy,” she says, either ignoring—or not caring—that Riven and I were about to rip off each other’s clothing while the Star Disc was still in my hand. “You proved that you understand the balance between power and love. That you’re willing to tear through the cosmos to save the ones you care about.”

“I didn’t do it to prove anything.” I tighten my grip on Riven’s hand, frost and water spiraling along our skin, from our palms to our elbows. “I did it because I care about keeping the people I love alive. And I’ll tear through the cosmos again if that’s what it takes to make sure they stay alive.”

“And that’s why the cosmos bends for you.” Celeste’s gaze lingers on me, something knowing in the way she watches. “Because you don’t seek power. And yet, you claim it as if you were forged from it.”

Riven steps closer, the space between us crackling with protective energy.

“She wasn’t just forged from power—she is power,” he says to Celeste. “And gods help whoever forgets it.”

I prepare myself for Celeste to launch an attack on Riven for being, well… Riven.

“You’re lucky, Winter Prince,” she says instead. “Not just to have her, but to know what she’s worth. I approve.”

“Smart choice,” Riven says, already sliding into that insufferable tone that means a one-liner is coming. “I’d hate to have to overthrow a goddess for underestimating my wife.”

“I’d love to see you try.” Celeste raises a delicate brow. “But considering you were dead less than an hour ago, perhaps you should pace yourself on the divine vengeance.”

He lets out a low, amused laugh. “Fair enough.”

I glance between them and huff, forcing them to return their focus to me.

I am, after all, the reason we’re gathered here today. Or tonight. Or whatever time it is in the cosmic void.

“As much as I love this whole family reunion moment, maybe my celestial godmother and my infuriatingly devoted soulmate can hold off on the bonding session?” I ask. “Because I just claimed a cosmic death frisbee and have no idea how to use it.”

“Then allow me to show you what power looks like when you wield it,” Celeste says, and a vision forms in the air between us—me throwing the Star Disc like a weapon. It cuts through the air with deadly precision, leaving a trail of stardust in its wake, and returns to my hand.

The vision version of me looks like an avenging goddess.

“As you see, it will always return to you,” Celeste says to me, now in full mentor mode. “The Disc is bound to your soul, just as you’re now bound to his.” She nods toward Riven, then turns back to me. “But it’s more than just a weapon. It’s a conduit for your star magic, your water magic, your air magic, and the ice magic you share with your prince. The Disc will amplify it all.”

I exchange a glance with Riven, who raises an eyebrow—his subtle way of telling me he’s impressed.

“So, I just... throw it?” I ask Celeste, feeling both empowered and slightly underwhelmed by the simplicity.

She nods. “Throw it with intention. It can cut through nearly anything—even materials that should be impossible to break. And reaching for it with your air magic will return it to you, as air magic tends to do with weapons bound to their wielder’s soul.”

I give it an experimental spin in my hand, feeling how naturally it balances on my fingertips, admiring the stardust it generates as it moves.

Then, I hurl it across the platform.

It whistles through the air, trailing a comet’s tail of shimmering light. For a heartbeat, it becomes the only star in the sky. Then, I reach for it with my magic to bring it back, and it curves and returns, slapping cleanly into my palm with a hum that echoes in my bones.

Celeste claps, her smile radiant. “You’re a natural.”

She walks me through a few more techniques, and it comes easily—like brewing potions always has, only faster and deadlier. Each time the Disc returns to me, it feels more familiar, like an extension of my body.

“Fantastic,” she says after it returns to me again. “And now, that about covers our lessons.”

“Is there anything else we should know?” I ask her. “Any hints about how to get the Winter King to drink the potion? About how to defeat the Night Court? About how to save Zoey?”

“The universe will reveal all in time,” she says mysteriously.

I let out a huff. “So, that’s a no.”

I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But I was hoping for something— anything —other than cosmic riddles and vague foreshadowing.

Riven steps forward, his gaze intense, focused on Celeste. “How do we get out of here and back to the mystical realm?” he asks.

“The Cosmic Tides exist beyond the laws of time and space,” she explains. “When you ascend in the spectral ship, think of where you wish to go and why. If your purpose is true, the Tides will deliver you.”

“That’s it?” I ask. “No portal, no map, no coordinates? No star to serve as our guide? Just... think about it really hard?”

Celeste’s laugh chimes through the air. “Your intentions shape reality more than you know,” she says. “Especially here.”

Just as she finishes speaking, a rumble courses through the tower. I grab Riven’s arm to steady myself, watching in alarm as the lower steps of the staircase dissolve into stardust.

“What’s happening?” I ask, backing away from the disintegrating steps.

“The tower has served its purpose,” Celeste explains. “It’s returning to the cosmic matter from which it was formed.”

“Well, that’s lovely,” Riven mutters. “Except we’re still standing on it.”

She motions to the Star Disc. “Your weapon is more than just a projectile.”

I narrow my eyes. “Meaning…?”

If she says that the universe will reveal it in time, I’m flinging myself into the abyss and taking my chances.

“It can be used as a glider,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Hold onto it with both hands. Riven will wrap his arms around you, and then, you’ll jump. The Disc will carry you on the currents.” She pauses, then adds, “Although, the added weight of Riven’s ego may pose a challenge.”

Riven scoffs. “If anything’s weighing me down, it’s the sheer gravity of how devastatingly irresistible I am.”

I shoot him a glare.

“Hey.” He holds his hands up in mock innocence. “I don’t make the rules. I just get the privilege of living in them.”

Celeste smiles knowingly at us.

“Yes, you’re very pretty, Winter Prince. Now, grab your wife and jump before the platform crumbles beneath your devastating charm,” she says, rolling her celestial eyes and turning back to me. “Let the Star Disc catch the cosmic currents. It will guide you safely back to your vessel.”

The tower’s disintegration speeds up, reaching the middle section of the staircase.

We’re running out of time.

“Thank you,” I say to Celeste, feeling the weight of her guidance, her blessing.

She inclines her head, her form translucent as she fades back into starlight. “The light that burns the darkness away is not just the Star Disc—it’s you,” she tells me. “Your courage, your heart, and your love. That’s magic the stars can’t replicate.”

With those final words, she dissolves completely, leaving me and Riven alone on the rapidly shrinking tower platform.

“Well,” he says, glancing down, “nothing like a cosmic death drop to keep things interesting.”

I take a deep breath, holding the Star Disc in front of me with both hands. “Do me a favor and keep your ego in check when we do this?” I ask.

“That’s like asking the sun not to shine,” he says, and then he steps behind me, pulling me close.

Even though we’re about to jump into the cosmic abyss, electricity rushes through me at his touch.

“I feel that, Princess,” he murmurs in my ear, and my stomach flips at the intimacy of the whole sharing souls thing.

“We have to jump, Riven,” I say, my heart leaping as his hold tightens. “Before I forget how to breathe again.”

“I’m not letting go.”

Three simple words.

But in them: everything. His vow, his guilt, his love, and his need.

“Ready?” I ask, poising the Disc like a shield in front of us.

“With you? Always,” he says, and then together, we leap into the stars.