Page 19

Sapphire

My stomach turns at Riven’s proposal, an icy knot of fear tightening in my chest.

These are not the words of someone who cares about me.

They’re the words of someone who’s just as sadistic as his crazy father.

The king is silent for a long moment, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. Then, finally, he sheaths his sword.

“Interesting,” he muses, studying his son as if he’s proud of him. “What types of trials, exactly, do you have in mind?”

“They will be taken to the wild, outer parts of our land,” Riven begins, not missing a beat. “And they’ll start with the Trial of the Frozen Lake. ”

My heart skips a beat, and I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

I told Riven about the lake. I told him how Zoey and I nearly died when we were kids—how the ice cracked beneath her, how the freezing water swallowed her whole.

This isn’t a coincidence.

Riven’s using one of our worst memories against us.

He truly wants to break us.

Perhaps he’s even crueler than his father.

“Deep beneath the ice, there will be a key.” Riven’s expression is cold, detached, as though he’s discussing something as mundane as a change in the weather. “They’ll need to retrieve it if they want to continue to the second trial.”

The king’s eyes spark with interest.

“Continue,” he says, and Zoey’s grip tightens on my hand.

“If they don’t find the key, they will drown,” Riven says calmly. “Frozen in the lake’s depths forever. A fitting challenge for summer spies who think they can infiltrate our court.”

The king smiles, the wicked gleam in his eyes growing brighter. “Yes, a frozen death beneath the lake,” he says with a chuckle. “What a spectacle.”

But I can’t focus on the king.

All I see is Riven .

I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That there was more to him? That he might care, after everything?

But this—this is the true Riven. The cold prince of ice. His father’s son through and through. And I never should have entertained anything else.

“And the second trial?” the king asks.

Riven’s cold gaze flickers, lingering on me for the briefest moment before he answers. “The second trial—if they make it that far—will test their resolve to continue,” he says. “They’ll cross the old bridge that spans across the ravine. Well—they’ll try to cross. After all, those born from summer don’t particularly thrive on icy surfaces, and the human won’t stand much of a chance. I wonder if Sapphire will jump after her friend falls? Or if she’ll have the heart and strength to continue? We could place bets on it—and on other parts of the trials—to make the stakes more personal.”

“An excellent challenge, and a brilliant idea.” The king laughs, the sound echoing through the throne room like shattering glass. “They’ll see their deaths coming with each step.”

“Precisely,” Riven says. “Fear unlike any they’ve ever experienced.”

I grit my teeth, a growing sense of dread swirling in my chest.

This isn’t just a series of trials. It’s a drawn-out execution designed to slowly break us—to watch us fall apart before this realm finishes us off.

“I’m intrigued.” The king walks over to the dead knight’s body and pokes it with his sword. He twists the blade, drawing more blood, then pulls it back out and refocuses on his son. “And the final trial?”

“A hunt through the forest.” Riven steps forward, his cold expression unchanging. “With them, obviously, as the prey. They’ll search for the silver tree that will take them back to the mortal realm, and I’ll lead my knights as we track them through the forest. When we find them, they’ll die. And—make no mistake—if by some slim chance they pass the first two trials and make it that far, we will find them. And we will give them a death worthy of your demonstration here today.”

The room silences, the words hanging in the air like a noose tightening around my neck.

Zoey’s nails dig into my skin.

She’s the only thing grounding me to reality. Without her, I’m sure I would have broken long ago. Likely back in that tower.

Malice shines in Riven’s eyes, as if he can’t wait to kill me himself.

Then, he returns his focus to his father.

“I’ll oversee the trials personally,” he says. “You, of course, should remain in the palace. It’s too dangerous for you to expose yourself to the wilds—especially with the monsters lurking at the borders.”

“You’re proposing I miss out on the fun of seeing the trespassers die?” The king’s voice trembles, on the verge of rage, and he reaches for his sword.

This is it.

He’s going to kill us.

We won’t even have a chance to fight for our lives in these brutal trials.

“I understand your disappointment,” Riven replies smoothly, which seems to placate the king a little bit. “But I must remind you that you don’t have an animal familiar to guide you through the forests and the chaos beyond. Without one, it will be far too risky.”

The king stiffens, and he reaches for the white fur cloak draped over his shoulders. His face darkens, but not with anger. No, this is something deeper. Something fragile and broken.

Something that gives him serious pause.

“And what will happen if the girls escape during these trials?” he finally says, and I release a slow breath of relief that he didn’t say no.

“They won’t escape.” Riven offers a small, calculating smile, his cold eyes glinting with a dangerous confidence. “My knights will be with me at all times. And, most importantly, I’ll have Ghost by my side. ”

Ghost purrs at the mention of his name, his tail curling behind Riven’s legs.

“If you think a human and a summer fae could possibly escape me, my knights, and Ghost, then perhaps you doubt the strength of the Winter Court,” Riven continues smoothly.

The nobles shift uncomfortably, stealing glances at the king, Riven, Ghost, me, and Zoey.

“I will ensure these trials unfold exactly as planned,” Riven presses on. “And they will serve as a warning to anyone who dares cross us again.”

The king’s grip tightens on his cloak draped over his shoulders.

It isn’t going to work. He’s going to lash out again—unleash the fury he’s barely keeping in check.

But then, slowly, his lips twist into a cold smile. “Very well,” he says. “Let’s not waste any more time. The trials will begin now.”

Riven steps forward, cold calculation gleaming in his eyes. “Before we proceed, Father, we should make an official agreement,” he says. “An oath that if they make it to the silver tree, they will not be hunted once they cross into their realm. We do want them to have the motivation to try, after all. It would be quite boring otherwise.”

“Motivation?” The king’s laughter echoes through the room, harsh and sharp. “They don’t need motivation. ”

He scans the gathered fae, zooms toward one of the men, and drives his blade through his throat.

Blood spurts everywhere.

Zoey gasps, and I bite back a scream.

He hits the ground, and his gurgled cries silence, blood pooling beneath him.

The men and women of court silence, too, all of us watching as the king steps over the man’s body.

“Here’s the only deal I’m making,” he snarls, and he’s talking to me and Zoey now—not to Riven. “You either enter these trials, or you die right now.”

I can’t move, can’t breathe. But despite feeling like the world is closing in around me, I force myself to stay calm.

There’s no negotiating with this man.

He’s too far gone. Too twisted by his own madness.

All we can do is play his game and hope to win.

“Sapphire,” Zoey says my name, her eyes burning with fierce determination. She looks more alive than she has since we were locked in that tower. “We can do this.”

“We can try,” I reply, since unlike her, I can’t lie.

The king sheaths his sword with a flourish, as if killing one of his own men was nothing more than a casual inconvenience. “So, you both agree,” he says, although he doesn’t wait for a response—he simply turns to the knights lining the walls instead. “Escort them to the lake, where they’ll face their first trial. ”

“Father,” Riven cuts in again, and all eyes return to him. “Look at them. They’re weak. Pathetic. The trials are meant to be slow and painful. They’re supposed to unravel the cores of who they are. If they’re too weak to survive even ten minutes into the first trial, their suffering will be over too soon. Where’s the satisfaction in that?”

The king freezes, his cruel smile faltering as he regards his son.

Riven only smirks back, as if they’re engaging in a silent battle—one that will determine which one of them is crueler and more twisted.

Horror washes over me at the reminder that I’ve kissed those lips.

Twice.

And that I enjoyed it.

Finally, the king leans back and sheathes his sword. “You always did have a flair for strategy,” he muses, almost to himself. “Escort them to the lake, where you and your men will set up camp for the night. Let them have a few hours there to rest and gather their strength. And then… remember every detail of their prolonged deaths so you can recount every moment of it to me upon your return.”