Page 38

RIVEN

I move the vial to my father’s lips, my other hand keeping the sword at his throat.

Sapphire’s anxiety floods our bond—her magic pulsing in waves that match my quickening heartbeat—but I don’t look back at her.

She’s here for me. She loves me. And I no longer have to see it to believe it. Especially not here, as my blade presses hot steel against my father’s throat, in this moment that could change everything.

He parts his lips, and I tilt the vial, the potion flowing into his mouth.

He swallows once, then twice, his eyes locked on mine.

For a heartbeat, nothing happens.

Then his body jerks, magic sparking off his skin in erratic bursts. It’s only my instinct to pull my sword away that ensures the blade doesn’t dig deeper, killing him and landing myself in the future I’ve been fighting to avoid.

A strangled scream tears from his throat and echoes through the arena, chilling my bones and silencing the crowd.

Fear tightens my chest. Because he’s thrashing violently now, collapsing onto the ice, fighting the potion’s magic as if battling a demon within.

The arena is dead silent, every soul frozen in place, watching their king unravel.

Is this what happened to my mother? Did she scream until the frost swallowed her whole?

Suddenly, he stills, his limbs going limp.

It’s done. Over. Finished.

The floor of the arena bottoms out from under me. Because this is my fault. I killed him. And now, the darkness the Tides showed me will become my reality.

But then slowly, agonizingly, he lifts his head and pushes himself up. His eyes—the same silver as mine—are sharp with intelligence, free from the feverish madness that’s haunted them for decades.

“,” he says, as if he’s speaking my name for the first time.

My heart stutters as he moves to his feet. Because he doesn’t say my name with the bark of command, or the hiss of disappointment. It’s not heavy with scorn or weighed down with expectations I’ll never meet.

For once, he speaks it like it means something. Like I mean something.

Which somehow breaks me more than anything else ever could.

But I keep my expression neutral, ready to defend myself if this is another trick.

“Father,” I respond, tightening my grip on my sword.

He turns in a slow circle, his gaze sweeping the silent faces of the Winter Court. And when he returns his focus to me, his eyes are haunted—guilt, regret, and pain etched into every line of his face.

“The things I said to you. The way I treated you—” He stops abruptly, his jaw tightening, frost crackling along his clenched fists. “You deserved better.”

Another shot of pain through my heart.

But still, I don’t waver.

“I did deserve better. But in some ways, everything you said and did made me stronger,” I admit, watching him carefully, clueless of what this man—this sane version of my father—will do next.

To my astonishment, he sinks to one knee, bowing his head to me. Not in submission—a Winter King submits to no one—but with the quiet dignity of a man facing the truth.

“You were never weak,” he says, steady despite the tremor in his shoulders. “And I only hope that someday, you can forgive me.”

Magic stirs within me, ice and water swirling at my feet as I fight to maintain composure.

I am, after all, the Winter Prince. No matter how much my heart has warmed for Sapphire, ice still runs in my veins. And I will not show weakness in front of the court—especially not in a moment as important as this.

“I don’t need your approval anymore,” I tell him, since I’m pretty sure I gave my desire for his approval away when I killed his knights to follow Sapphire into the Wandering Wilds. “But I will accept your respect.”

He nods and reaches for his hand, removing the ring that’s been worn by the Winter King for as long as our court can remember. Then, he presses it into my left palm—the one Sapphire and I marked with our vows.

And as he looks up at me, it’s not as a king, or as a tyrant.

It’s as a man who’s finally seeing his son.

“I tried to make you cold,” he says, speaking slowly, gathering his thoughts. “I thought ice was strength, and that love made you weak. But you found strength despite every lesson I drilled into your heart.”

Tightness grips my chest, a mix of relief and sorrow. Because these are the words I once would have died to hear. Now, they feel too late—yet still powerful enough to shake me.

But I can barely focus on his words.

I’m too busy studying the ring. It glints in the light, cruel and beautiful. And if I slide it onto my finger, I’ll become king—possibly the one who sat on a frozen throne, drowning in silence, creating frosty memories on windowpanes of everyone who abandoned me, betrayed me, and broke my heart.

My father, apparently unaware of the dread racing through my bones, continues to speak.

“This ring has passed from king to king since the Winter Court’s founding,” he says, watching me intently. “And now, it passes to you.”

I close my fist around the ring, its cold edges biting into my palm. A promise of the pain to come if I slide it onto my finger and accept.

But as much as I want to throw the ring as far away from me as possible—to shatter the future the Tides showed me—I can’t refuse it. Not yet. Not until I know that everything I’ve worked for won’t be destroyed the moment I place the ring back into my father’s hand.

So, I gather myself together and hold his unwavering gaze.

“If I return this ring to you,” I say, my voice carrying across the silent arena. “You will first swear a binding oath. A deal. With me.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd, but I quiet them with a raised hand.

Confusion flashes across my father’s face

“After all the suffering I’ve inflicted,” he says, his voice strained with disbelief, “you would allow me to rule?”

“Not without conditions.” Frost forms around my closed fist, crystallizing the ring within my grip.

“I’d expect nothing else.” He nods for me to continue, looking at me with something I never thought I’d see from him— pride. “State your terms.”

I stand tall, drawing on every lesson in diplomacy I’ve been taught since childhood. This is no ordinary agreement between fae, and I won’t leave room for escape or interpretation.

“I, Prince Draevor of the Winter and Summer Courts, offer these terms,” I begin, clear and strong. “Firstly, you will unite the full strength of the Winter Court with the Summer Court against the Night Court and the Blood Coven’s threat. You will commit our warriors, our resources, and our magic without reservation or delay.”

His eyes remain locked on mine as I continue.

“Secondly, you will acknowledge Princess Sapphire Hayes Fairmont Solandriel Draevor as my wife and the Winter and Summer Princess, granting her all rights, privileges, and protections afforded to a member of the royal bloodline. You will ensure that every subject, every noble, and every warrior of the Winter Court treats her with the respect and deference her position demands.”

Frost gathers at my feet, spreading in intricate patterns across the ice.

“You will respect the bond between me and my wife,” I say sharply, “not only as a political alliance, but as a soul-binding recognized by the gods themselves. You will never attempt to separate us, undermine our authority, or question the validity of our bond.”

Calculation and question flash across my father’s eyes.

He still doesn’t know about Sapphire being star touched. He has no idea how the carving in my palm left a scar despite my supernatural healing, let alone anything about the celestial weapon that put it there.

But those explanations are for later, after I place the Winter Court’s pieces exactly where I want them to be.

“Finally, you will not allow madness cloud your judgment again,” I tell him. “At the first sign of your reason faltering, you will yield your authority to me until your mind is restored.”

I pause, letting each term settle into the frozen air of the arena.

“Those are my terms,” I finish. “Do you accept?”

I wait, barely able to breathe, praying it’s enough.

For a moment, I think it won’t be.

But he rises to his feet, his posture straightening as he faces the silent crowd, then turns back to me.

“I, King Nivian Draevor of the Winter Court, swear by ice and blood, by the ancient powers that have sustained the Winter Court since its founding,” he begins, his voice carrying to every corner of the arena as he repeats the terms of our deal, exactly as I laid them out.

Once finished, he extends his hand to me, palm up, ready to seal the oath.

For a heartbeat, I hesitate. Trust is dangerous, especially with him. But this is the best chance at peacefully moving toward a future where the Night Court and Blood Coven don’t pose a threat to the realms.

So, I reach for his hand, clasping his wrist.

Frost crawls outward from our joined arms, wrapping around us in spirals of winter magic. It seeps into our skin, binding the oath into our bones—unbreakable, inescapable, and eternal.

The crowd gasps as the frost shatters into diamond dust that rains to the ground.

It’s done. The oath is sealed.

I study my father for a long moment, weighing the sincerity in his eyes against decades of mistrust. Then, I place the ring back into his palm, closing his fingers around it.

“Keep your crown,” I tell him, my voice low enough that only he can hear. “But never forget how close I came to taking it from you.”

“I will remember,” he promises as he slips the ring back onto his finger.

With a slow exhale, I release his arm and turn to the royal box where Sapphire stands.

Water droplets shimmer around her like suspended stars, her eyes locked with mine across the distance. And through our bond, her love flows toward me, her magic shielding me from the whispers of the lonely future that could have been.

It’s not just approval, but pride. Protection. Unwavering love and devotion.

I am so insanely lucky to have her.

As Sapphire and I are losing ourselves in each other’s eyes—as we seem so often to do—my father turns to address the arena, his voice carrying renewed strength.

“The Trial of Frost and Blood is complete,” he declares. “My son has challenged me and won. He has united Winter and Summer, forging our courts into a single blade against the darkness of Night!”

The crowd erupts, a mixture of cheers and chatter spreading through the stands.

“Together,” he continues, gesturing to me and Sapphire, “the Prince and Princess of Winter and Summer will lead our warriors alongside the Summer Court. We’ll show the Night Court a power they’ve never dreamed possible, and our strength will blaze brighter than the stars, burning away their darkness until nothing remains but victory!”