Page 10

Sapphire

The moment Riven and I step back into the cave, my heart drops.

Zoey’s as pale as the snow outside, her breaths shallow and uneven. It looks like the only thing keeping her from completely slipping away is Ghost, who’s curled around her, his fur pressed close, as if reminding her she’s not alone.

I rush to her side and drop to my knees, reaching for her, but stop myself.

I don’t want to touch her and hurt her.

Not when I’m so close to saving her.

Riven crouches beside me, assessing her with sharp eyes. “We’re not too late,” he says. “But we don’t have a second to waste.”

He hands me the satchel, and my fingers tremble as I uncork it.

The purple potion glows brighter now—possibly from the dove’s blood, or maybe from the way the ingredients have had time to properly merge. Either way, it pulses with magic, like it knows exactly what it needs to do.

Riven kneels beside me as I lift Zoey’s head, bringing the satchel to her lips. “Careful,” he says. “Too fast and she might choke.”

I shoot him a glare. “I know how to help someone drink something.”

He gives me an amused smile and sits back.

I don’t look at him. Instead, I tip the satchel, coaxing Zoey to drink.

The change is immediate.

Color rushes into her cheeks, her breathing steadies, and the bruise on her head fades.

I peel back the blood-soaked bandage on her arm, relieved to see that the gash there is healing just as quickly.

It’s working.

The potion is working.

Finally, just when I don’t think I can take it anymore, her eyes flutter open.

“Sapphire?” she asks, and while her voice is weak, it’s there.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I throw my arms around her, as if I’m afraid she’s going to dissolve into the shadows if I don’t. “You’re alive,” I say in amazement. “You’re okay.”

“More than okay.” She hugs me back, then pulls away, examining her newly healed arm. “What happened?”

“We made a healing potion,” I tell her quickly. “Riven helped me gather the ingredients. There was a dove, and some moss, and a few berries, and?—”

“And your best friend is the most gifted potion maker I’ve ever encountered,” Riven interrupts, studying me with an intensity that takes my breath away. “Given how bad your wounds and infection were, it should have taken you hours to heal. Maybe days. But this took less than a minute.”

I shift under his scrutiny, feeling uncomfortably exposed. “I just followed the instructions.” I shrug, even though we both know it was far more complicated than that.

“No,” he says, quieting me. “That was more than just skill. It was the kind of talent that comes from a strong magical lineage. No exceptions.”

My heart leaps into my throat—panic about whether this “strong lineage” of mine has to do with the side of me that’s part vampire—but I force myself to meet his gaze.

“Or maybe I was just really determined to make sure Zoey didn’t die,” I finally say.

He doesn’t reply, but the way he looks at me—intense, searching—makes my skin prickle.

“Well, whatever you did, it worked,” Zoey interrupts, breaking the tension between me and Riven. “What happened while I was out? How long was I unconscious?”

“Almost two days,” I tell her. “That dark angel threw you into a tree and knocked you out. Then I fought him, and I…” I trail off, not wanting to get into the details. “I killed him and brought us here. Then Riven found us, and he helped me make the potion that healed you.”

Ghost lets out a low rumble, as if reminding us that he helped, too.

Zoey smiles at him and pets his head. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’d never forget you.”

He purrs in contentment and snuggles into her.

Has he really decided he likes her better than me already?

She leans against the cave wall, using her fingers to brush Ghost’s thick fur. “Speaking of going places,” she says. “When can we head home?”

My stomach clenches.

I knew this question was coming, but that doesn’t make it easier to answer.

“We can’t go home,” I say simply. “At least, not yet.”

Her smile fades. “But we survived the final trial,” she says. “Riven’s here. He saved our lives. Which means he can take us home. Right?”

As she speaks, I can tell she realizes it isn’t going to be that simple.

We are, after all, dealing with the fae.

“About that...” I start, glancing at Riven for help.

He simply raises an eyebrow, leaving this to me.

Thanks for nothing, Winter Prince.

So, given that he’s apparently not going to help, I turn my attention back to Zoey.

“I made a deal with Riven,” I tell her.

Her eyes narrow. “What kind of deal?”

“The kind where he helped me save your life, and now I have to help him save his father’s sanity.” The words tumble out in a rush. “We can’t go home until I help him make a potion he needs for his father. And we couldn’t go back to the silver tree anyway, since we’re sort of fugitives from the Winter Court, since Riven killed his own knights to come here and help us.”

“His own knights?” She gapes at Riven, who shrugs, as if murdering his men is nothing worth discussing.

“The point is,” I continue, “going back isn’t an option. Not until we have what we need to cure his father.”

“So, we’re trapped here.” Zoey slumps against Ghost, who nuzzles her shoulder.

“Not trapped,” I say. “Just... taking a detour.”

She lets out a hollow laugh. “A detour through a realm that wants to kill me just for being human.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I promise. “Neither will Riven or Ghost.”

“Like how you stopped that ice dragon from slashing my arm? Or how you stopped that dark angel from throwing me into a tree?”

I suck in a sharp breath, and she winces, immediately looking guilty.

“I’m sorry. I know you did everything you could. I just...” She runs a hand through her tangled hair, which has long fallen out of the thick bun she had on the top of her head when we set out on the first trial. “I hate feeling so weak.”

“You’re not weak,” I tell her, although while it’s generally true, there’s far more to it than that.

“I’m human. In this realm, that means I’m weak,” she says, although she gets herself together before I can reply, looking me dead on and straightening her shoulders. “Anyway—where do we need to go to get these potion ingredients?”

“Really?” I blink, caught off guard by her sudden attitude shift. “You’re cool with coming with us?”

“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice,” she says, still stroking Ghost’s fur. “Unless you want to keep fighting about it?”

“No,” I say. “I just?—”

“There’s a woman hidden in the Wandering Wilds,” Riven interrupts, speaking for the first time since this conversation started. “She’s older than both courts—Summer and Winter—combined. She knows the most ancient potions ever created. If anyone knows how to cure my father’s madness, it’s her.”

“And how do we find her?” Zoey asks, at the same time as I wonder why he hadn’t mentioned this entire part of the plan to me.

Maybe because I didn’t ask?

“We follow the stars,” he says. “There’s a map in the sky that will guide our way.”

Zoey furrows her brow, staring at Riven as if he said the stars will drop from the sky and lead us there by hand.

“A map in the sky?” she repeats. “Seriously?”

“My mother said that every star has a purpose,” he continues, sounding dreamy now, his voice softening at the mention of her. “She insisted there was a pattern—a way to find anything if you knew how to read it.”

“Do you know how to read it?” I ask him, praying he’s better at reading maps than he is at brewing potions.

His jaw tightens, and I have a sinking feeling that I’m not going to like where this is heading.

“I’ve tried. But I always end up going in circles.” He runs his fingers through his dark hair, frustrated. “I was figuring it out, but then the disappearances near the border started happening, and I got sidetracked.”