Page 13

The throne room of the Summer Court is too bright. Too warm. The air is thick with an oppressive sweetness that clings to the back of my throat like honey turned to rot.

I try to focus on Sapphire beside me, but my mind keeps drifting back to that frozen moment in the forest. Calder’s sword raised to strike. The sound of my blade slicing through flesh. The weight of bodies falling as the world snapped back into motion.

I killed them all while they couldn’t move, couldn’t defend themselves. Guards I trained with. Ate with. Bled with. Men and women I’d known for decades. Some I’d even dared to hope saw me as something more than a weapon.

I flex my fingers for what must be the hundredth time this past hour, the phantom stickiness of blood coating my skin. I’ve scrubbed my hands over and over again, but it still clings. It probably always will.

Sapphire glances at me, concern flickering across her beautiful features.

She feels my anguish. I feel her worry. It’s a cycle of shared pain and silent devotion, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But even her presence—her magic brushing against mine—can’t quiet the screaming silence Calder left behind.

But now is hardly the correct moment to show any signs of weakness. So, I call on my ice magic, guiding it into patterns across my hands in a failed attempt to bury the guilt that’s consuming me whole.

As I do, I return my focus to the scene before me.

Lysandra sits regally on her throne, water cascading down crystal walls behind her, creating patterns that shift and dance. Before us stand two fae warriors, both with the unmistakable bearing of elite fighters.

The man has copper-toned skin and hair the color of autumn leaves.

His posture is perfect, shoulders squared, his hand resting on the hilt of a blade that ripples like water caught in sunlight.

The woman is equally impressive, lithe and deadly, with silvery-white hair and eyes that shift between blue and green.

They remind me of Calder. Of Lira. Of what loyalty meant… before I started killing the people who swore it to me. All of them dead by my hand while they were fr ozen in time, taking their final blows with no idea they were even coming.

“Prince Riven. Princess Sapphire,” Lysandra says, her voice melodic and light despite the gravity of our mission.

“These are two of my most trusted warriors, Maeris and Thalia. They have faithfully served the Summer Court for centuries, and they will accompany you to retrieve the Ember of Prometheus.”

Maeris and Thalia bow in unison, a fluid movement that speaks to their centuries of training together.

My heart stumbles in my chest as Calder’s face flashes in my mind again—his frozen expression as my blade severed his head from his body.

The man who taught me how to properly hold a sword when I was five years old.

The man who snuck me winter berry pie after my father’s brutal training sessions and hateful words.

The man who betrayed my trust and tried to kill my wife.

My Starlight.

She’s the one my lungs breathe for and my heart beats for. The only light I have left, and the only one I haven’t failed. The only thing standing between me and something colder, darker, and more dangerous than even I can name.

I will destroy everything if it means keeping her safe.

“Queen Lysandra,” I say, my voice tighter than I intend as I shove back the flood of memories of bodies burning in the pyre I created, “might I request a private audience with you and Princess Sapphire before we finalize these arrangements?”

Lysandra studies me for a moment longer than feels comfortable, her expression unreadable.

Then she nods once. “Maeris. Thalia. Leave us,” she commands. “Wait outside until summoned.”

They bow in unison and glide from the room without hesitation. Their movements are perfectly synchronized—just like my guards had been, right up until they tried to kill us over a shared toast.

Stop, I tell myself, trying with everything I can to push it down, to stop my thoughts from coming so quickly that I’m drowning in them. Focus.

Lysandra looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak.

I draw in a slow breath, calling the chill into my chest, letting it wrap around the wildfire that hasn’t stopped burning since Sapphire fused our souls together in the Tides.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” I begin, somehow keeping my voice steady, despite the storm raging inside me, “I’m not comfortable with additional guards joining us.”

She bristles, but I press on.

“The Winter Court guards who traveled with us were handpicked by Calder—my combat instructor since childhood.” I pause, the words sticking in my throat, letting my ice numb the pain.

“They ambushed us after toasting to our marriage. They tried to kill your daughter, and then I executed them while time was frozen.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and terrible. I haven’t spoken it aloud until now. I haven’t needed to. Sapphire already knew.

Saying the words now makes the reality of what I did hit me all over again.

I killed them like a butcher slaughtering livestock. Methodical, efficient, and merciless. And part of me didn’t regret it.

I think that might be what terrifies me the most.

“I will not risk your daughter’s life again,” I tell Lysandra, steel threading my voice. “I will not be forced to kill more people I’m supposed to trust.”

“Nonsense,” she says, brushing off my concerns with a wave of her hand. “In the Summer Court, our loyalties run deeper than ice. Maeris and Thalia have served me faithfully since before your father took the Winter throne. I would trust them with my life—and, more importantly, with my daughter’s.”

I narrow my eyes at her, frost forming beneath my boots.

“My guards were equally as respected,” I counter, my voice hardening as ice spreads further across the floor.

“ Some had served the Winter Court for centuries. And still, they turned. I had to look into their frozen eyes as I killed them one by one. I had to hear their bodies hit the ground. I had to build the pyre that devoured them whole.”

Each word burns Calder and the rest of them to ash all over again.

“You think I don’t understand betrayal?” Lysandra’s laugh is cold, at odds with the warmth of the Summer Court. “I am a queen, Prince Riven. Your decades of life are but a flicker compared to the millennia I’ve endured.”

Sapphire steps forward, water swirling around her, commanding the room with quiet power.

“Riven isn’t questioning your judgment. He’s simply concerned about my safety.” She squeezes my hand, and the bond surges between us—warm, aching, and full of everything I’m trying to contain.

That’s when I feel it again. The edge of something sharp in me, something growing. Something my father once carried. A willingness to kill, to destroy, and to let the world freeze over if it means she lives.

This isn’t destruction by sacrifice anymore. It’s destruction by annihilation.

Because I no longer want to die for her. I want to live for her. Mercilessly, violently, and without remorse.

“I’m also concerned for your safety,” Lysandra replies, softening slightly, seemingly unaware of the silent war I’m fighting within myself.

“Which is why Maeris and Thalia will accompany you. The journey to the Pyros Vault is perilous, even with your combined magic, and their presence is non-negotiable.”

I clench my jaw. Because I know how this works. Which battles are worth the bloodshed.

“Then I want a binding oath,” I say. “A magically enforced vow of loyalty—to both of us. Especially to her.”

My hand tightens around Sapphire’s, and the Compass pulses in my pocket, as if agreeing with my words.

Because no one will ever touch my Starlight again.

Not unless they want to bleed for it.