Page 18 of Frozen Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #7)

I materialize behind a cluster of night fae at the battlefield’s edge, the Star Disc blazing to life in my projected hands.

Forcing myself to not think about it too hard, I slice through their forms like they’re made of smoke, leaving trails of starlight that will burn through their hearts the moment time resumes.

One after another, I mark them for death.

Then I snap back.

I’m in my body again, gasping as the world spins around me. Without pause, I project again, this time to the far left side of the battlefield, where more night fae hover in formation.

The Star Disc sings through the air, its path calculated for maximum destruction as I aim for three night fae in a diving pattern, frozen mid-descent. The weapon passes through them in a single throw.

Snap back. Project. Kill.

Again. And again. And again.

I’m running on autopilot as I slice through the night fae.

As I do, it becomes clear to me that Sapphire Hayes, the bartender who discovered she had magic a few months ago, is gone.

Now, I’m Princess Sapphire Hayes Fairmont Solandriel Draevor, the star touched warrior of Celeste, destroying helpless enemies on a frozen battlefield with a goddess-forged weapon designed just for me.

But the next time I snap back to my body, dizziness blurs my vision, nausea churning in my stomach. My breaths are shallow and uneven, and each projection after that stretches my magic thinner, fraying the edges of my soul.

But there’s no time to stop. No room for hesitation. Zoey’s face flashes through my mind—her smile, her laughter, and her stubborn loyalty—and I find strength for one more projection. Then another, and another, until not a single frozen night fae remains airborne.

Gathering myself together in my projected form, I look around.

Riven stands at the center of the battlefield, scanning the area to ensure he missed no one. Ghost and Nebula prowl through the frozen ranks, checking for stragglers, their paws leaving soft impressions in the snow.

Maybe if I sit down, just for a minute, I can recharge the energy I just expended.

“Sapphire!” Riven’s voice cuts through the haze of exhaustion. “Come back to me. Now!”

The urgency in his voice pulls me back into focus.

Snap back, I think.

But nothing happens.

I’m too weak. I need a minute. Then I’ll be okay. Just a minute.

“Sapphire!” He screams again, louder this time, his fear rushing through the bond so intensely that it ignites something inside me, making me snap back into my physical body with brutal force.

I wake gasping, every muscle trembling. Disorientation washes over me in waves. But before panic can fully set in, strong arms encircle me, cradling me close.

Riven’s holding me tight, his heartbeat racing beneath my cheek. “Sapphire,” he breathes, his relief evident as he cups my face. “You’re back. You’re safe.”

His lips crash down on mine before I can respond, desperate and fierce.

As always, my body reacts to his, my fingers tangling in his hair, anchoring myself to him and this moment. But as tightly as I cling, part of me is terrified by the force of his need, by the intensity of his desire radiating through our bond.

When we break apart, he doesn’t move away. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

“If I could keep the world frozen like this forever, I would,” he says. “Just you. Just us. Together, always.”

He doesn’t waste a second before his lips find mine again, softer this time, but no less intense. His hands roam over my face, my shoulders, and my waist, like he’s making sure every piece of me is intact. Alive. Real.

The kiss deepens, and need— his need—pulses through the bond again. Not just for comfort, but for something more primal. More intimate.

He needs me. All of me.

“Riven,” I gasp against his mouth as his hands find the waistline of my pants, cold fingers skimming across heated skin.

He responds by pressing me against the ground, his body covering mine as his lips trail down my throat.

Around us, the battlefield remains locked in its deadly moment of frozen time—hundreds of corpses-to-be suspended in their final moments—but Riven’s focus is singular, almost dangerous in its intensity, as if I’m the only thing tethering him to sanity.

“I almost lost you,” he whispers against my skin.

“When you couldn’t snap back to your body, all I could think about was that moment in the Tides when you almost went to that other version of us, the one where we were happy and free, without any of this to worry about.

” He motions around the battlefield, but his grip on me tightens further, as if he’s afraid the memory might snatch me from his arms simply from mentioning it.

“I’m not going to leave you,” I promise, praying to get through to him, to make him understand. “I’ll never leave you. You’re the only you I ever want. I love you, Riven. Always.”

My words soften the sharp lines of tension in his face, but something shadowed and turbulent still burns in the depths of his silver eyes.

“We have ten minutes before time resumes.” His gaze locks onto mine, pupils blown wide with desire. “I can show you how much I love you in less than ten minutes, Starlight. Right here, right now, where the world can’t take you from me again.”

Before I can protest, he’s kissing me again. It’s so intense that it’s bordering on frantic, like a man starved, convinced this is the last chance he has to feel me.

“Riven, no.” I push against his chest, but he’s stronger, his muscles tense with urgency. “We can’t. Not here. Not now.”

“Why not? Time is frozen. No one can see us. No one can stop us. It’s just you and me and?—”

“And hundreds of corpses!” I snap, finally managing to create some space between us. “Look around us, Riven. Really look.”

His breath shudders out in frustration, his eyes squeezing shut, as if he can’t bring himself to look.

When he finally opens them, his jaw clenches so tightly it looks painful.

It’s like he’s fighting an internal battle more violent than the war around us, and we stay there like that for a few tense seconds as I do everything I can to push reason through the bond.

His breathing remains ragged, his pupils dilated with need.

It’s not working. How is it not working? How is he so consumed with desire that all he can think about is wanting to be intimate in the middle of a frozen battlefield? Where’s the Winter Prince I fell in love with, who would be preparing me for whatever might happen when time resumes?

“Riven,” I say his name quietly, unwilling to give up on him. “We’ll have time together later. But here, in this moment… we can’t.”

Slowly, his breathing steadies, focus filtering back into his expression.

“You’re right.” His voice shakes with effort as he lifts himself off me, his fists clenched at his sides, frost crawling across his hands.

“I just… when you couldn’t come back to your body and I thought I was losing you, it felt like I was losing myself, too.

I couldn’t let that happen. Not again. Never again. ”

“We’re both alive. We’re both here. That’s what matters.

” I reach up to touch his face, feeling the tension coiled in his every muscle as he leans into me, like he’s clinging to a lifeline between sanity and madness.

“And it’s probably best not to join the Night Court Battlefield Slaughter Club anyway,” I add, trying to lighten the mood with a weak smile.

Instead of the smirk and witty response I expect from him, he glances back down at the Stillpoint Compass, his jaw tight, shadows remaining behind his eyes.

“Less than five minutes,” he says, his tone steady but quiet, as though counting down to the moment when he might lose himself to his own darkness.

I rise slowly, straightening my clothing, taking a deep breath to settle myself as we stand side by side.

He does the same, his arm grazing mine in the process and sending another rush of longing through the bond.

“I love you,” I tell him, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze.

“I love you, too. More than anything.” His voice trembles slightly on the last word—an unspoken reminder that he’ll cross any line if that’s what it takes to keep me by his side. However, he quickly switches gears, strategizing what to tell his knights when time resumes.

There he is—my Winter Prince back in action.

Worry continues to knot my stomach as he talks, but at least this time, I got through to him. As for next time… that’s a problem to deal with after we win this war.

A minute later, the world explodes back into motion.

Bodies fall like rain. The night fae we marked for death hit the earth with wet thuds, their hearts burned through, their necks severed. The ones still airborne that I sliced through with my Star Disc plummet from the sky, their screams dying in their throats before they can form.

The winter knights, still poised mid-strike, stumble to a stop, their expressions flickering from confusion to shock. They look around wildly, weapons raised, and chaotic chatter erupts.

“What the hell just happened?” one of them calls out, eyes wide with disbelief. “Where did they?—”

“By the gods,” another of them breathes, his sword trembling in his grip.

“Impossible…” says another nearby.

“There’s no time for explanations,” Riven cuts them off, silencing them instantly.

He strides forward, silver eyes colder than ice, all traces of the passionate man from moments ago gone.

“We’ll advance into the village immediately.

Secure every house and street, but do not harm the civilians unless they attack first. Understood? ”

The knights exchange brief, uncertain glances, clearly shaken by the unnatural way the night fae collapsed around them. But no one dares question their prince’s command. Not when his tone is steel-edged, devoid of hesitation or mercy.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the captain of the knights responds, bowing his head. “And if they do resist?”

“Then deal with them accordingly,” Riven says without the slightest trace of emotion. “But if they surrender, you will guard their homes and ensure they remain inside until we have control of the palace. Civilian casualties will not be tolerated unless it’s unavoidable.”

He swings onto Ghost’s back with fluid grace, his eyes scanning the battlefield with tactical precision. There’s no emotion left in his expression—just command, pure and absolute.

I climb onto Nebula, responding to the tension radiating from Riven through our bond. His coldness is unsettling after the intimacy we just shared, but I force myself to focus. This is war. This is what we came here to do. And I’m not leaving this place without Zoey.

Once we’re moving, Riven turns back to me, his eyes meeting mine, searching for something. Approval, reassurance, or maybe even forgiveness.

“Let’s finish this,” I say through the tightness in my chest, and we move forward toward the Night Court’s palace, leaving the battlefield-turned-graveyard behind us, the weight of what we’ve done settling heavy and permanent in our wake.