Page 24

We’re still on Mount Etna, but not the Mount Etna I was looking at seconds ago.

The tourist viewpoints have vanished, replaced by ancient stone structures. The vegetation has changed, becoming more vibrant, yet more primal. The sky above us has shifted from clear blue to a strange amber hue.

“We made it,” I breathe, my various magics swirling together in response to the power surrounding us.

“Stay close,” Maeris warns. “From here on, we follow the path of fire.”

I scan the transformed landscape, noticing a trail of onyx stones leading upward. They pulse with an inner heat, like a heartbeat beneath the mountain’s skin. Steady, ancient, and alive.

As we follow the winding path upward, the air grows thicker and hotter. My ice magic feels dampened by the overwhelming heat, my water feels like it’s boiling, and my air magic stirs restlessly, as if sensing a coming storm.

As for my Star Disc, it’s the biggest thing holding me steady right now.

Maeris and Thalia seem like they’re doing okay—probably something to do with their centuries of training, which is why Lysandra sent them with us.

Riven’s hanging in there, although there are a few beads of sweat on his brow.

His skin is paler than usual, his jaw locked tight, his shoulders rigid beneath his shirt. And he’s quieter than usual—like he’s retreating inward to survive the heat.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a smirk.

“Always,” I reply, and Thalia shoots us a look that reminds me about her honeymoon comment in the car.

After what feels like hours of climbing, we reach what can only be the entrance to the Pyros Vault—a massive circular depression in the mountain, its center sealed by a dome of black volcanic glass.

“Is that it?” I ask, stepping closer to the dome.

Maeris approaches cautiously, water pooling in his palms. “According to the texts, yes. The Ember should be contained within the volcano.”

Thalia circles the dome, her eyes narrowed. “There must be a mechanism to open it. Some way to prove ourselves worthy. ”

“Or we could just break it open,” Riven suggests, a dangerous glint in his silver eyes. Something sharper than humor lives in that expression—something colder than ice.

I reach through the bond, but it’s distant. As if he’s holding it back.

My heart stutters. Because even though we haven’t had this soul-fused bond for very long, I’ve never felt him block me out before. And he was so open with it in the car earlier. He let me feel everything. I don’t think he meant to, but still, he did.

What on earth could he be trying to hide from me now?

I don’t know. But I can’t let myself get distracted. Riven knows how to take care of himself. Everything he does is to keep me safe, which he now understands means keeping himself safe, since I have zero interest in having a life without him in it.

He’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We always are, and I refuse to let that change.

So, I force my attention back to the Vault, studying the dome. There are intricate patterns etched into its surface—symbols that remind me of flames and smoke.

“These markings must mean something.” I turn to Maeris, since he seems the most knowledgeable about the ancient texts.

“They must,” he agrees. “Unfortunately, I’ve never seen them before, nor were they mentioned in any books in the temple.”

I kneel beside the dome, my fingers hovering just above its surface, feeling the heat radiating from it. As I do, the Star Disc pulses at my side. So, I reach for it, studying it.

“Its points are sharp,” I say simply, watching as one sparkles in the sunlight. “Do you think that if I threw it at the symbols, maybe it could… cut open the dome?”

A glance around at the others shows me one thing: they don’t know.

Riven eventually nods, stepping away from the dome. “You could try,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “But be careful, Starlight. And remember that I’ll rip apart the universe itself if that’s the cost of keeping you by my side.”

His voice is calm. Too calm. And that’s what makes my chest tighten. Because Riven doesn’t get like this unless something inside him is unraveling. He might think he’s covering it up by dulling the bond, but he can’t do that anymore. Not with me. We’re too connected by this point.

I want to stop. To push. To make him open the connection between us so I can know what he’s hiding.

But I can’t. Not right now. There’s too much at stake.

“When am I not careful?” I say instead, and he raises an eyebrow, frost patterns swirling around his fingers and up his wrists.

“Would you like the list alphabetically or chronologically?” he replies, and despite the tension of the moment, I can’t help but smile.

“You remember them all, don’t you?” I ask softly.

“Of course I do.” His eyes don’t leave mine, his hand drifting to his pocket where he’s keeping the compass. “Because I should have stopped them—every single one of them—before they happened.”

His words echo in my chest, sharp and cold as the magic between us. I want to argue. To tell him that everything that’s happened in the past isn’t his burden, and that all we can do is focus on the future. But I don’t. Because if I do, I’ll fall apart.

So instead, I do what I always do—I focus on what’s coming next and act.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, and then, determined to not overthink this, I throw.

The Disc flies from my hand, trailing stardust as it arcs toward the dome. When it strikes the center, the impact sends a spiderweb of cracks across the surface.

For a heartbeat, nothing happens.

Then the dome splits open with the sound of shattering glass, the pieces dissolving into embers that float upward like fireflies .

The Star Disc boomerangs back into my hand, humming with satisfied energy.

Thalia actually smiles.

I’m about to look at Riven to see his reaction when the stone floor opens with an ear-splitting crack and two massive forms rise from the fissures—serpent-bodied creatures with wings made of smoke and flame.

Their torsos tower above us, their menacing eyes burning like hot coals.

And, most alarmingly, they’re holding whips blazing with fire.

Riven draws his sword, coating it with a layer of frost that’s already melting in the intense heat.

The monster on the left snaps its whip.

“Maeris, Thalia—take the one on the right,” Riven commands them. “Sapphire and I will handle this one.”

The Summer Court warriors nod, already positioning themselves to face their opponent.

“Stay close,” Riven tells me, his voice low and fierce, his grip tightening on his sword. “These creatures are fire incarnate. Water magic will be our best defense against them.”

Before I can respond, the one facing us roars and its whip lashes out with blinding speed—directly toward my face.

Water surges out of my palm that’s not holding the Disc, creating a wall between us and the attack. But the moment the creature’s fire meets my water, my shield evaporates with a hiss, turning to scalding steam that billows around us.

Through the cloud, I hear Riven’s furious growl, followed by the crackling of his frost magic. The steam clears just in time for me to see a barrage of ice shards aimed at the monster’s face melt midair.

Across the crater, Maeris and Thalia have combined their water magic to create a high-pressure blast that disrupts their opponent’s balance, buying them precious seconds to reposition.

Zeroing in on the one Riven and I are set to kill, I take my Star Disc, focus on the place in its chest where its heart should be, and throw with every ounce of magic I can muster.

Stardust trails behind it as it cuts through the air.

The monster twists with impossible speed.

My weapon glances off its molten skin, leaving only a shallow groove before returning to my hand.

I curse and tighten my hold on the Disc, reaching deeper for its magic, feeling it thrum through my soul as I back up to stand closer to Riven. He doesn’t speak—but the second I move into his shadow, he exhales. Just once. Like my proximity pulled him back from a ledge I didn’t see.

“We need to—” he starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish.

Because the creature spins its whip overhead in widening circles, generating a cyclone of flames that spirals outward toward us.

The heat is overwhelming, my lungs burning with each breath as Riven and I are forced away from each other.

“Watch out!” I scream as the edge of the cyclone catches Riven’s shoulder, fire licking across his sleeve.

He stumbles, hissing as he uses his water magic to douse out the flames. His pain shoots through the bond—hot and sharp—before he clamps down on the connection between us again.

I thrust my hands forward, channeling a blast of air into the heart of the fiery vortex and parting it like a sea.

“Get through now!” I shout to Riven, and he dives through the gap, rolling to his feet on the other side and shooting a blast of ice at the monster’s whip mid-swing.

Frost spreads across the fiery weapon, and the creature screeches as the flames dim, cracks forming along the whip’s length.

“It’s working!” I call out to Riven, gripping the Star Disc tighter. “Keep it frozen!”

Riven pours more winter magic into the whip, frost spreading further along its burning surface.

His expression is focused—but there’s a wildness in his magic now.

A quiet fury in every movement, as if the power he wields is the only language he has left to express how desperately he’ll fight for me.

The creature roars, attempting to reignite its weapon, but the flames flicker weaker than before .

Spotting an in, I send the Star Disc spinning through the air, slicing the whip clean through, severing the weapon at its base.

Fragments of it scatter across the stone, hissing and smoking as they die out.

“Now!” I shout to Riven as the Disc returns to my hand, humming with satisfied energy.

With his sword coated in ice, Riven charges forward, ducking under the monster’s desperate swipe with its remaining arm. His blade sinks into a crack in its chest, ice spreading from the wound like frostbite.

“Die,” he growls, and as he twists the sword deeper, the bond opens again, stronger than ever.

I’m nearly thrown off my feet by the tidal wave of fierce, raw emotion that promises he’d rip the world apart and challenge fate itself to ensure my safety.

It’s so overwhelming that I can’t focus on anything else around me.

All I can feel is his love burning brighter than a thousand stars, strong enough to reshape reality.

Then there’s the darkness creeping along the edges, threatening to inch its way through his veins and destroy every part of him that cares about anything other than me.

It’s like his devotion is bringing out the weapon forged in steel and frost he’s been training to become for his entire life, built to destroy anything that gets in his—and now my—path.

Maybe he wanted to dull the bond to ensure its sheer force didn’t hinder me in the fight rather than help me? Given how crushingly intense it is right now, I don’t think I can blame him for it.

As he continues to throw everything he can into the attack, the monster thrashes, its molten skin hardening as Riven’s ice overcomes its internal fire. And then, with one last defiant screech, the creature crumbles to stone, the light in its coal-red eyes fading to nothing.

Riven yanks his sword free, turning to me with triumph blazing in his stormy eyes, power coming off him in waves. “One down?—”

A scream cuts him off.

We spin around to see Maeris caught in the second monster’s whip, flames wrapping around his torso like a fiery serpent. The creature jerks the summer warrior off his feet, pulling the whip tighter as Maeris’s body ignites.

The smell hits me first. Burning flesh, char, and magic unraveling all at once.

“No!” Thalia screams, unleashing a torrent of water at the monster. Steam explodes upward, but when it clears, Maeris is still burning, his agonized cries echoing through the crater.

I’m already running, Star Disc ready. “Hold on!” I scream as the Disc leaves my hand, cutting through the air and slicing through the whip in a burst of stardust.

The monster stumbles backward .

Maeris—or rather, what’s left of Maeris—collapses to the ground, his blackened body crumbling to a pile of ash.

I stare at the place where he fell, my pulse thundering, my legs suddenly too heavy for me to move. I try to breathe, but it’s like the heat has stolen even that.

This is what we’re up against. This is what it means to be unprepared for just a second.

I swallow down the bile threatening to rise in my throat as I continue to stare at the pile of ash.

“Maeris!” Thalia falls to her knees beside the remains, her eyes burning with unrestrained fury as she turns to face the monster that killed her soulmate. “You,” she hisses, water gathering around her like a storm, “will pay for what you’ve done.”

The monster cracks its remaining whip, its eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence as it prepares for another attack.

“Thalia, wait!” I call out, raising the Star Disc. “We need to coordinate?—”

Her primal scream cuts me off, and she charges at the creature, her blade drawn, water swirling around her as she plunges her sword through the monster’s chest.