Page 21

SAPPHIRE

The spectral ship glides across the ocean, its sails blowing in the wind, not needing my and Riven’s magic to direct it. Because the ship knows. It senses our intertwined fates, as if it can feel the echo of every promise we’ve broken and remade.

It knows we’re looking for Ghost, and hopefully, it will bring us to him.

Riven’s been on edge for the entire trip, closed off to me again. He stands near the rail with his shoulders locked, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if daring anything—man or monster—to stop us from finding Ghost.

But now, I’m not hurt by it. I don’t worry that he’s retreating inside himself because he doesn’t care about me, or because he was using me to escape the Tides. Because my soul beats in time with his. I can feel the love projecting from him, even though he’s lost in his worries about his snow leopard familiar.

So, I move to him, grab his hand, and squeeze it.

His skin is cold, but the frost melts slightly at my touch. And when his stormy eyes meet mine, some of the hardness melts away.

“He’s going to be okay,” I say softly.

He exhales, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “He has to be. Because Ghost isn’t just my familiar. He’s the part of me that knows how to survive, no matter how dark things get,” he says, and when the final word escapes his lips, the ship slows, coming to a stop.

There’s… nothing.

No land in sight. No cosmic whirlpool sucking us into the ocean’s depths. No full moon opening to let a waterfall rush out of the sky. There’s only dark ocean water, as far as the eye can see.

Then, the sea shudders and parts, a massive building rising from its depths.

Riven’s arm moves around my shoulders as we gaze out at spires of ice shimmering under the stars, sharp yet delicate, wrapped in emerald vines that glow in the moonlight. Waterfalls pour from terraces high above, freezing mid-fall into sculptures that defy nature—flowing and frozen, beautiful and dangerous.

It’s not cold or harsh like the Winter Court. It’s not wild and overgrown like the Summer Court. It’s a perfect balance of ice and bloom, frost and sun.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, staring up at it in awe.

Riven’s arm tightens around me, frost rippling across the ship’s deck.

“The Lost Fae Temple. I thought this place was only a myth,” he says, studying it as he continues to explain. “The legend is that this temple was built long ago, before the courts divided. When Winter and Summer were one.”

I tear my gaze from the temple long enough to glance at him.

He looks… awestruck.

“You’ve never seen it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No one has. It was sealed away. Lost. Until now.”

We’re both silent for a few minutes as the ship glides forward, heading for the island where the temple hums with a deep, ancient magic that presses into my skin and curls around my bones.

“Do you feel that?” I ask Riven.

He swallows hard, his eyes meeting mine in quiet intensity. “Yes.”

The ship slows as it nears the dock, stopping when it reaches it, the gangplank lowering on its own.

“Ready?” Riven asks, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

I draw my dagger, its weight steadying my racing heart. “Ready.”

Side by side, we step onto the path leading up to the temple, magic thickening with every heartbeat. Frost blooms under Riven’s steps, while flowers unfurl beneath mine, as if the temple is recognizing and greeting us individually.

As I walk, my clothes dissolve into silver mist, weaving themselves into a gown that’s not fabric, but starlight. s gleam along the bodice and cascade down the front in delicate chains, and the corset hugs my waist, the skirt flowing in layers that sparkle like starlight.

And I’m not the only one experiencing a cosmic makeover.

Because Riven, who I’ve seen more than once in princely clothing, is now beyond regal. He’s otherworldly —strikingly fierce, achingly beautiful, and utterly mesmerizing.

A fitted dark jacket wraps around his frame, embroidered with silver threads in patterns that accentuate every powerful line of his body. The collar dips to reveal the sculpted lines of his chest, his skin kissed by frost. And around his neck rests a silver chain inset with sapphires to match my gown—two pieces of the same design, as if the temple crafted them just for us.

“How is this even real?” I sheathe my dagger, my fingers brushing the sparkling fabric of my gown.

“How are you even real?” he counters, earning a smile from me as he sheathes his sword and reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.

“Maybe I’m not,” I tease, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe this is all a beautiful dream, and we’ll wake up any moment.”

Tension radiates between us in waves, and despite the temple before us, Riven is all I can see, feel, or care about.

“If this is just a dream,” he says, slowly and carefully, “then it’s the cruelest, most beautiful one I’ve ever had.”

“Then trust this,” I say, pressing our carved palms together, aligning the marks etched into our skin. “Because dreams fade, but we made sure this will last.”

We linger quietly, savoring the warmth of our joined hands, feeling the promise we’ve carved into our skin. But eventually, Riven breaks the silence with gentle amusement.

“If we stand here staring into each other’s eyes for much longer,” he murmurs affectionately, “the temple might start feeling ignored.”

“We wouldn’t want to offend an ancient temple,” I reply, holding back a smile. “Especially one generous enough to dress us like royalty.”

“Generous?” He arches a brow. “It’s only doing its duty. Because you are royalty, Princess. Temples, magic gowns—all of it.”

“Right. Royalty,” I say, lightly teasing. “Give me another few years—maybe I’ll finally feel like I deserve the title.”

“You deserve every beautiful, impossible thing the universe can dream up,” he says fiercely, stepping closer. “And I’ll fight until my last breath to give it to you.”

My heart races, and it takes me a few seconds to gather myself together enough to speak.

“The only thing I need is you,” I tell him, magic pulsing between our palms, a heartbeat connecting our souls. “But right now, we need to find Ghost. And it seems like the temple’s the key to doing that. So, as much as I’d love to stay out here with you and forget the rest of the world exists, we’d better get moving.”

He sighs dramatically, his eyes sparkling with exaggerated resignation. “Fine, you win,” he says. “Let the records show that I graciously admitted defeat—this one time.”

Laughing softly, I shake my head and lead him toward the massive double doors, where vines and ice form an archway so tall it seems to touch the stars.

“Should we knock?” I ask when we reach it, only half-joking, my muscles tense and ready.

Hopefully this place turns out friendlier than the one in Legends of the Hidden Temple. I’m really not in the mood for guards jumping out at me in creepy masks.

The temple answers before Riven can, the doors slowly swinging open. It leads to a grand hallway lined with towering statues—fae made of ice and stone, each one with arms outstretched, palms glowing with golden light.

“Look at this place.” I turn in a slow circle to take it in, my gown moving with me as I do. “It’s incredible.”

Riven pauses beside me, his eyes narrowed in wonder and confusion, brushing his fingers against the intricate carvings on the wall.

“Did you know that according to legend, fae magic wasn’t always divided by seasons?” he asks, his voice soothing despite his caution. “Once, it existed as one unified force.”

“I’ve been a bit preoccupied with staying alive since getting here to study the history of the mystical realm,” I tell him with a teasing smile. “But if the courts weren’t always separated, then what changed?”

He hesitates, shadows flickering behind his eyes.

“War. Betrayal. The usual story of paradise lost. All because of a forbidden love.” He glances at me, vulnerability flashing beneath his usually guarded expression. “Between the daughter of Winter and the son of Summer.”

Energy hums between us.

But before I can ask more, the hall opens into a vast chamber with soaring columns and a domed ceiling that reflects the night sky in perfect detail. More passages branch off in every direction, leading deeper into the temple.

“Which way do we go?” I wonder aloud, glancing around at the overwhelming beauty of it all.

A trail of light illuminates the floor ahead of us, guiding us toward the largest passageway.

“I guess that answers that,” Riven says wryly.

“But aren’t the most beautiful things often the most dangerous?” I say, recalling what he told me while we approached Circe’s Island, where the cloud-shrouded island—the one Circe later told us held Blaze Academy—also waited.

“We asked the universe to lead us to Ghost.” His eyes turn serious again. “We need to trust that it knows what it’s doing.”

And so, we follow the light, passing through a series of increasingly grand chambers, each more beautiful than the last.

Finally, after what feels like hours, we reach a set of doors made of frost and wood.

“I can feel him,” Riven says softly. “Ghost is in there.”

I squeeze his hand, anticipation vibrating through our bond.

“Then let’s not keep him waiting,” I say, and the doors swing open at our approach, revealing a circular chamber with a high, domed ceiling that mirrors the cosmos above.

At the center of the chamber stands an ancient stone altar, covered in a layer of ice. And upon it...

“Ghost.” Riven exhales in relief, dropping my hand and rushing forward, his urgency echoing through our bond and piercing my heart.