Page 36 of Frozen Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #7)

Two weeks have passed since the fall of the Night Court. Two weeks of uneasy quiet, of whispered reassurances and nights tangled in Riven’s arms, of trying to heal wounds deeper than skin. Two weeks since we stood on that rooftop, watching Zoey and Aerix vanish into a fate I can’t control.

Riven and I didn’t stay in the Winter Court for longer than a few days. Because like I promised him on the tower’s roof, we’re going to fix the imbalance of the bond… with a little help from the god who owes us big time.

Now, sunlight filters through the jungle’s dense canopy above, casting golden specks across the lush forest floor as Nebula moves beneath me with effortless grace. Her steady strides match Ghost’s, as if even our familiars sense the gravity of this moment.

We’ve been hunting for a week. And finally, given the information we’ve gathered, along with the hum of magic in the air, I know we’re close.

“I feel it, too,” Riven observes, glancing at me. “The magic is different here.”

“You’re a mind reader now?” I joke.

“No,” he replies with a small, sad smile. “Just a Sapphire reader.”

With a mental tug, I pull Nebula to a stop. Ghost naturally does the same.

“Riven.” I turn to him, taking a deep breath, my heart racing at the intensity shining in his eyes. “When we’re done with this, we’re still going to be us. Nothing is ever going to pull me away from you. Not gods, not fate, and not magic. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Bold of you to assume you’d be able to shake me off at this point.” He exhales a quiet laugh, the sound fragile beneath its casualness. But his eyes hold a fierce certainty—one that sends heat cascading through my veins.

“Good.” I reach over and brush my fingers against his hand, letting warmth flow through the bond. “Because I’m counting on you staying exactly where you are.”

“Then it’s a good thing that staying by your side and loving you is a promise I’ve never had trouble keeping,” he says, and as I think back on everything we’ve been through, I realize just how true it is.

Riven’s been a lot of things since we met—guarded, ruthless, passionate, haunted, insufferable, protective, broken, selfless, and impossibly complicated—but he’s never left me. Not once. Not even when his love for me was taken from him.

He holds my gaze, his eyes steady despite the vulnerability lingering beneath the surface. “Come here,” he murmurs, guiding Ghost closer until there’s barely any space between us.

Leaning in, he brushes his lips against mine, the icy familiarity igniting sparks beneath my skin. It’s a promise, an anchor, and a vow that we’re here, alive, and together despite everything the world’s thrown at us.

“We’re going to be all right,” he whispers after we pull apart. “No matter what happens next, we’re going to be all right.”

My heart swells as his fingers brush a strand of hair from my face, feeling the months of shared history between us.

The pain, the love, the sacrifice, and the way we’ve refused to break.

After everything we’ve endured—the Tides, the arrow, the dryad, and even death itself—I know the real Riven.

Not the perfect version of him from the visions, but the complicated, fierce, loyal man who would tear the world apart to protect what he loves.

“You know,” I say, needing to focus myself so I don’t lose myself in him right here and now, “there was a time when I thought I’d never forgive you.”

A shadow of regret crosses his features. “There was a time when I didn’t deserve forgiveness.”

I lean into his touch, water rippling beneath my skin. “And now?”

“Now I’ll spend forever trying to be worthy of you.

Because I love you, Starlight.” His eyes soften, and when he calls me that, it’s a promise that the love between us is stronger than any bond could ever be.

“We could stay here, you know. You and me in this jungle paradise, letting the rest of them deal with the aftermath of the war on their own.”

“Riven.” I cup his cheek, pulling back enough so I can fully see his face. My chest aches at the longing in his gaze, at the way his soul calls desperately to mine. “You don’t really want that. You know you don’t want it.”

He tries to lean in again, his eyes heavy with intensity.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I want it so badly it hurts. Maybe it would be easier if it was just us. No kingdoms, no war, and no gods.” He pauses, his voice softening to something fragile.

“No more loss. Only us, loving each other for the rest of our immortal lives.”

My heart stutters at the wistfulness in his voice, and for a second, I see it clearly. The two of us hidden away here, isolated, untouched by war, by fate, and by anything but our love.

It’s so incredibly tempting for me to surrender everything I am and live only for him, too.

But he’s been strong for me so many times. And now, it’s my turn to be strong for him.

“That’s the bond talking.” I put gentle pressure on his chest, keeping him from closing the distance between us, even though I want him to so badly I might burst.

He hesitates, his brows knitting together, confusion crossing his eyes. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I know you.” I keep my voice steady, despite the tightness in my lungs.

Patience is what’s gotten me through these past two weeks of keeping him from losing himself in the bond, and I’ll be patient for as long as it takes to heal his soul.

“I know the prince who spent years surviving the Winter Court alone, who was strong enough to cure his father, and who cares about protecting his home. You’re so much more than this bond, Riven.

You don’t need it to love me, you don’t need it to know who you are, and I refuse to let you lose yourself to something you never asked for. ”

He stares at me, conflict etched into every line of his face, his jaw tightening.

“I love you,” I say, strongly and firmly. “And I’m not going to let you disappear into your love for me.”

His chest rises with a deep, trembling breath, as if surfacing after nearly drowning. “Gods, Sapphire—” He exhales sharply, blinking himself back into focus. “I almost...”

“You almost got lost again.” I keep my palm over his heart, anchoring him, steadying my breathing with his. “But I always find you, Riven. I always bring you back, and I’m never going to stop fighting for you, no matter what.”

Which, if we’ve followed our instructions correctly, should be soon. And once we’re free from this bond, I’ll love him harder than ever. Not because I have to, but because I choose to.

“Come on,” he says after a moment, pulling back with a smile that makes my heart hurt. “We have a garden to find.”

We ride in comfortable silence for a while longer, the dense jungle slowly giving way to more open terrain. Ghost and Nebula move with graceful purpose, their paws barely making a sound on the forest floor.

“There,” Riven says suddenly, pointing ahead.

I follow his gaze and catch my breath. Because rising before us, nestled between two towering cliffs, is an archway carved from marble and vines, beautiful but ancient, nature reclaiming its territory.

But beneath the beauty is something deeply unsettling.

It’s like the stones are watching us, warning us to turn around, telling us we don’t belong here.

Still, we continue forward. And as we approach, my magic responds to the energy pulsing from the archway—layers upon layers of spells woven so tightly they’ve become almost sentient, shimmering like silk spun from sunlight.

Wards.

When we’re a few feet away, we dismount carefully, our boots sinking into the soft, moss-covered earth.

Nebula presses her head against my side, and I trail my hand along her fur, drawing strength from her warmth.

Ghost nudges Riven similarly, the bond between us all tightening for a moment, grounding us in the present.

Shadows of lingering sadness remain in Riven’s eyes, but he draws the Ember of Prometheus from the satchel at his hip, its glow intensifying in his hand.

“Ready?” His eyes search mine, as if one word from me would convince him to drop the Ember and disappear with me into the jungle, never to be seen again.

“Ready.” I nod, my heart thudding with anticipation.

Just like when we crossed the Night Court’s wards, he hands the Ember to me, and I press it against the center of the invisible barrier. The air ripples, and the wards brighten into full visibility—intricate patterns of light and shadow, gold and silver, night and day.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, the Ember flares, and with a sound like cracking glass, the barrier shatters, sending shockwaves of magical energy outward, making my hair stand on end.

“We did it,” I say as the Ember dims, its purpose fulfilled. “We’re in.”