Page 25 of Frozen Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #7)

My blade slices through the air, missing Aerix’s throat by inches as he twists away, wings flaring to steady himself.

I follow with a blast of water that makes him fly back and hit the wall with enough force to break off a few small pieces of stone.

He’s kept his wings retracted during our fight, which is too bad, because otherwise that hit would have broken them.

“Is this the best the Night Court has to offer?” I taunt, frost spiraling up my arms as I advance.

Rage flashes in his midnight eyes. He summons a whirlwind that tears across the room, but I counter with my own air magic, dispersing his attack before it can reach me.

The collision sends furniture splintering against the walls, tapestries billowing like sails in a storm, and books flying across the room.

“You think your Winter Court training makes you superior?” Aerix snarls as ice daggers form between his fingers, hurling them at me with deadly precision.

I don’t dodge. Instead, I create a scalding-hot water shield that melts them on the spot.

“I don’t think it makes me superior.” I drop the shield, letting it splash to the ground. “I know it does.”

My sword sings through the air, enhanced by summer magic that makes the blade glow with dual power. Aerix tries to parry with a hastily formed ice sword, but my weapon melts it on impact and slices across his shoulder, opening a deep gash that wells with blood.

He hisses in pain, pressing his hand against the wound as frost forms around it, slowing the bleeding as it stitches together.

I press forward, each attack flowing into the next—techniques drilled into me through decades of brutal training.

Duck. Thrust. Parry. Strike. Repeat.

Every movement is precise. Every blow is calculated. Every strike is fueled by the fear of losing Sapphire again, of failing to protect the only reason I haven’t disappeared into the darkness.

Aerix is strong, his magic powerful, but he fights like someone who’s relied on natural talent rather than disciplined training. His defenses are sloppy, his attacks increasingly desperate as he realizes he’s outmatched.

“You’re not walking away from this,” I tell him, water rushing through me as I form a whip of blistering heat that catches around his ankle.

With a sharp pull, I yank his feet out from under him. He crashes to the ground, and then I’m on him, one knee driving into his chest, pinning him down as my sword’s edge presses against his throat. Heated water flows from my fingers down the blade, burning his skin where the metal touches it.

But Aerix doesn’t struggle. Instead, he stares up at me calmly, almost mockingly, even as his flesh sizzles and burns.

“Go on.” He smirks. “Kill your brother.”

Everything stops.

My heart. My breath. The world itself.

“What did you say?” My voice comes out raw, stripped of its royal control.

“You heard me, Winter Prince.” He holds my gaze with unwavering intensity, and that’s when I notice the silver specks shimmering in his midnight eyes. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send a chill of dread through my veins. “Kill your brother. That’s what you came here to do, isn’t it?”

Ice explodes beneath us, jagged spikes erupting from the stone floor. My grip on my sword falters, the blade wavering against his throat, the water pressing against his skin cooling as shock floods my senses.

“Look at me, Riven.” He doesn’t even try to break free, confident in the destructive power of his words. “Don’t you see the family resemblance?”

I don’t want to. Gods, I don’t want to. But my eyes betray me, tracing the sharp angles of his face, the color of his hair, the set of his jaw—features that suddenly seem horrifyingly familiar. It’s like looking into a mirror darkened by shadow and time.

I want to say something—anything—to deny this impossible truth.

To shout that he’s lying, that it’s inconceivable.

But the words won’t come. Because not only is he also fae and therefore unable to lie, but every gut instinct inside me whispers with terrible certainty that somehow, impossibly, what he’s saying is true.

My grip on my sword loosens just enough, and with a burst of wind, Aerix knocks it away from his throat and shoves me backward. I stumble, my feet catching on the ice I’ve created, but manage to keep my balance.

He rises slowly, wings spreading behind him like shadows come to life, dark and imposing.

And as he saunters toward me, he doesn’t attack.

He doesn’t try to kill me. He just stands there, watching as I retrieve my sword with hands that won’t stop shaking, my mind spinning into chaos at the revelation that’s threatening to break me completely.

“What’s the matter, Winter Prince?” His voice drips with mock concern, his words sharp enough to carve through every carefully constructed defense I’ve ever built. “Did you, an only child, never want a brother? Did you really think our lives collided by accident?”

My heart’s hammering so violently that I can barely hear my thoughts.

My grip on my sword tightens, knuckles turning white, but I can’t bring myself to lift the blade again.

Every muscle feels locked in place, frozen by the realization—the impossible truth—that Aerix, a prince of the Night Court, shares my blood.

This isn’t how killing him and rescuing Zoey was supposed to go.

But now that it’s happening, a surge of something deeper—something twisted and confusing—crashes over me like a tidal wave.

Because for the first time since the soul fusing, I feel something powerful for someone other than Sapphire.

It’s disorienting, as if the ground beneath me has shattered, leaving me spiraling in an endless fall.

Aerix watches me closely, eyes narrowed, wings tensed as if expecting me to strike again.

When I don’t move, his stance relaxes, replaced by a cold, bitter smirk.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he drawls, stepping closer. “Is this news really that shocking? You must know that our father was with many women before he married your mother. Or is the shock because you can’t accept being connected to someone like me?”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to speak clearly through my spiraling thoughts. “You’re claiming we share a father,” I finally say, although frost crackles along my arms and across the floor, betraying the turmoil Aerix’s words set loose inside me.

“Why do you think you could open the tower doors with your magic?” He shakes his head, as if I should have realized this far sooner. “They only respond to royal night fae. You and I share blood. The magic obeyed you because it knows you’re connected to me.”

The world feels more frozen than it gets when I use the Stillpoint Compass. How is this happening? I was a split second away from killing the Night Prince—to finishing this war—and now…

I can barely think it, let alone process what he’s saying. Because everything I thought I knew about the world is breaking. All I can hear is ice fracturing deep in my chest, splintering my mind, my heart, and my soul.

Through the bond, I feel Sapphire’s desperate attempts to reach me. But the connection is dim. Not broken, but staggering under the weight of everything Aerix is revealing. As if her love is straining to touch someone who no longer exists.

My magic responds to my turmoil, frost crawling up the walls in chaotic, fractured designs.

I try steadying my breathing, to find the center of calm I’ve relied on through decades of battle training, but it’s useless.

The storm inside me is unstoppable, threatening to consume everything I’ve fought to protect.

“Why should I believe you?” I demand, even though deep down, I already do.

“Because fae can’t lie.” Aerix spreads his hands in a gesture that somehow manages to be both mocking and sincere at the same time.

“Therefore, I’ll speak plainly, with no room for interpretation.

I am your brother, Riven. Half-brother, to be precise.

So, how about you put down that sword? Because I can see in your eyes—which, in case you were wondering, are the same color mine were before I was turned—that you don’t have it in yourself to kill me. ”