Page 15

It’s nearly six in the morning, the time when the veil between realms will thin and the four of us can enter the human realm. The air is cold and dark, the horizon still star-streaked in that eerie hour before dawn, where even the Summer Court feels subdued.

Ghost and Nebula stand next to us, their eyes fixed on us with solemn understanding. They won’t be coming.

Leaving our familiars behind will be necessary, since the mortal realm will weaken their magic. Plus, fae already dislike planes—a giant snow leopard and cheetah would absolutely despise it.

“One minute,” Lysandra counts down, and then the world is shimmering around us, my skin tingling as the magic takes hold and the world fades away, bringing us from the mystical realm to the mortal realm .

My skin tingles, my senses twist, and then—just like that—we’re somewhere else.

My hand, of course, stayed in Sapphire’s the entire time. It tends to gravitate toward her, even when I don’t realize it. I think some part of me would lose control if we weren’t connected. And through the bond, I know she wants me as badly as I need her.

The end of February in New York is nothing like the Summer Court. Everything is dead in comparison, the trees bare, the grass muted. But it’s more than that. Because the air in the mortal realm feels wrong—thick and dull, lacking the vibrant currents of magic that permeate the fae courts.

“Everyone stay alert,” Maeris commands, water forming into pointed droplets that hover around his wrists, ready to strike if needed. “T should be waiting near the park’s exit.”

Thalia takes the lead, her silver-white hair almost luminescent in the darkness.

I watch her closely, that momentary hesitation during the oath-taking lingering in my mind like a splinter beneath skin.

Sapphire pauses next to me, flexing her fingers.

“You okay?” I ask her, even though I can feel the shift in her magic, the unsteadiness rippling across our bond.

“I feel...” she starts, her brow furrowing. “Off-balance. Like I’m missing a part of myself. ”

I stop and turn to face her fully, studying the subtle changes in her expression. Even in the dim light, she’s breathtaking—white-blonde hair streaked with blue that catches the last of the starlight, and eyes that shift from deep to pale sapphire depending on which type of magic she’s using.

Not to mention the hum of something greater that clings to her no matter where she stands. It’s like the mortal realm doesn’t know what to do with her—like it’s trying to flatten something that was never meant to be small.

“That’s because you don’t belong here,” I tell her, lifting my free hand to brush a strand of hair from her face, frost patterns forming briefly where my fingers touch her skin. “You never have. You belong in the mystical realm—with me.”

The words come out more possessive than I intended, but I don’t care. They’re true. What I feel for her is starting to outgrow language, and I don’t know what it looks like from the outside anymore. I don’t know if it looks like love, or if it’s become something else.

So, I try to pull the edge back. To smooth the blade, just in case my love has grown into something so sharp it might cut her, too.

Because after what I did in that clearing, she’d be right to fear me. And gods help me, if she ever does… I do n’t know who I’ll become in the aftermath. I don’t want to know.

I pray I never will.

“I grew up here,” she reminds me, and I shake myself back into focus, even though it’s getting harder and harder to focus with my soul bound so tightly to hers. “I spent nineteen years thinking I was human.”

“And yet you always felt out of place.” I step closer, until there’s barely a breath between us. “Always knew something was missing. Always yearned for more. I saw it in your eyes the first night at the Maple Pig. You were searching for something you couldn’t name.”

A smile tugs at her lips. “And you found me instead.”

“And I found you instead,” I agree, not bothering to hide the depth of emotion in my voice. “The single thing I’ve ever truly gotten right in my life.”

The air between us buzzes, and I need to be closer to her, mission be damned. She’s the only thing anchoring me to this world. Without her, I would literally be gone from it.

“If you two are quite finished,” Thalia interrupts, her tone sharp with disapproval, “we have a mission to begin and a plane to catch.”

“My wife and I are discussing the effects of realm transition on her magic,” I say coolly, not looking away from Sapphire as I address Thalia. “A vital strategic consideration, wouldn’t you agree? ”

The words come out light. Teasing. Calculated.

They’re for her. Only ever for her.

Sapphire’s eyes sparkle with barely contained laughter, and my heart—the one she brought back from death—skips a beat. Because ever since executing my men in the clearing, the sight of her smiling like this is the only thing keeping the weight in my chest from crushing me completely.

“You’re terrible,” she whispers, but she leans in to kiss me anyway.

“I most definitely am,” I murmur against her lips, hating how the words feel truer now than ever. “But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she says, pulling back with visible reluctance. “Even when you’re deliberately provoking our traveling companions.”

“Especially then,” I correct her with a smirk.

But it’s thinner now. A little forced at the edges. A performance I can’t stop playing, because if I let her see what I really am, and if she ever stops laughing when I need her to?—

I don’t know what will be left of me.

Maeris pointedly clears his throat. “There’s movement ahead,” he says. “Be ready.”

The playfulness evaporates from Sapphire’s expression as she reaches for her Star Disc—Glimmercut—and I draw Frostbite, its familiar weight balanced in my grip, ice magic flowing through the blade.

“Stay close to me,” I tell Sapphire, because even with four different types of magic at her command and the deadly accuracy of her Star Disc, the need to shield her beats in my blood like a second heartbeat.

“Always,” she replies, and through our bond, I feel her resolve spike.

But what she doesn’t feel—what I refuse to let her feel, what I’m trying with every breath to keep from flowing from me and into her through our soul bond—is how I’m barely holding the storm together. Because I won’t let her carry this, too. Not when she’s already carried me through death and back.

She deserves my strength—not my ruin.

As we approach the park’s exit, a lone figure comes into view, leaning against a lamppost. A woman with wild, dark hair that seems to move with a breeze that isn’t there, dressed in sleek black clothing that suggests both modern fashion and something timeless.

I study her, unease rippling through me. There’s something off about her—a vibration in the air around her, as if her presence disturbs reality.

When she spots us, her lips curl into a knowing smile.

“Lysandra’s envoy finally arrives,” she says. “I was beginning to think I’d been stood up. ”

“You must be T,” Maeris says, although he doesn’t lower his guard.

“The one and only,” the woman replies with a slight bow. “I’m your pilot, guide, and general guardian through the tedium of mortal travel.”

Magic hums around her—but not water. Not ice. Not anything I can name. It feels like a hurricane mid-spin, or lightning about to choose its target.

My grip tightens on my sword, frost spreading down the hilt.

“Something wrong, Your Highness?” T asks, her strange eyes fixed on me. They shift like storm clouds—gray one moment, and almost electric blue the next. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I force my expression into neutrality. “Just eager to get moving.”

“Yes, well,” she says, glancing at her watch. “We have a flight to catch. The private airfield is waiting, and I don’t like to keep my baby waiting.”

“Your baby?” Sapphire asks.

T’s smile broadens. “My plane. Custom modified G650. The fastest way to get from here to there without...” She trails off, making a vague gesture with her hand. “Well, other means.”

Maeris steps forward, spirals of water hovering around his wrists. “How experienced are you with flying?” he asks .

T’s expression darkens, and the previously clear sky rumbles with thunder.

“Better get moving before this storm gets worse.” She raises her hand, pointedly ignoring Maeris’s question, and a yellow taxi van pulls to the side of the road next to us. “Our chariot awaits.”

Sapphire’s fingers lace with mine, water and ice swirling together in response to our shared unease.

“She’s not what I expected,” she whispers.

“She’s not what anyone expected,” I reply under my breath, my eyes fixed on T. Not out of awe, but with calculation. Watching, measuring, and deciding what I’ll do if she turns out to be a threat.

Because if she puts Sapphire in danger, I won’t hesitate.

T opens the taxi door with a flourish. “In we go. Time is wasting, and storms wait for no one,” she says. “At least, not when I don’t want them to.”

We climb in, the city lights flickering across Sapphire’s skin as she settles beside me. She looks like something out of myth, leaving me breathless at the fact that this beautiful, star touched warrior—the one I knew would unravel me from the moment I saw her in that bar—is mine.

Or, more accurately, that I’m hers.

Once we’re situated, the taxi pulls away from the curb .

“Sicily awaits,” T says cheerfully, lowering the window. “I hope you’re all ready for a little adventure.”

But I’m barely listening. Because my hand has already drifted down, fingers tracing the ridged edge of the compass beneath my waistband.

T was wrong about one thing.

Time doesn’t wait for no one.

Not when it bends to me.