Page 33

“Climb faster!” Riven shouts, and I scramble upward, panic making my movements clumsy.

Orthrus charges across the chamber with terrifying speed. When it reaches the base of our wall, it rears up, slamming against the rock, making the entire chamber shudder from the force of its weight.

My foot slips, and for a heart-stopping moment, I’m dangling from one hand, the other flailing in the air.

“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice hoarse, as if he’s a second away from breaking. “I’ve always got you.”

Our faces are only an inch apart, and despite the danger—despite everything—my heart races for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.

His hand moves to cup my face, thumb brushing across my bottom lip in a gesture so tender it makes my chest ache.

“Don’t you dare fall,” he whispers fiercely, leaning into me as if he’s trying to make sure I’m solid and here. “I need you too much for you to fall.”

Below us, Orthrus slams against the wall again, the impact sending tremors through the stone. Tiny rocks rain down around us, but Riven doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away from my eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise, my hand covering his where it rests against my cheek.

Something passes between us—something deeper than words, more powerful than the magic flowing through our veins. But then Riven’s expression shifts, his jaw setting with renewed determination.

“We need to move,” he says, reluctantly pulling back.

“Lead the way,” I tell him, and he guides me higher, our climb quickly becoming a synchronized dance.

When I falter, his hand is there. When loose rocks threaten to give way beneath my feet, his ice reinforces my footholds.

There’s a harmony in our movements, as if we’ve tapped into an invisible force that’s guiding us, anchoring us, and whispering that no matter what happens, we’re never truly apart .

We’re twenty feet up when Orthrus makes another desperate lunge, its jaws snapping just feet below us. The hot, sulfurous breath washes over my legs, making me climb faster, adrenaline surging through my veins.

“Almost there,” Riven encourages, reaching the wider part of the ledge just below our escape route. He pulls himself up, then turns to help me, lifting me with supernatural strength to join him on the narrow shelf.

Breathless and dizzy from adrenaline, I cling to him, feeling the wild beat of his heart matching mine. And for a moment, we just stand there, breathing hard, pressed together by the narrowness of the ledge.

“Look at that,” he says softly, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “Even covered in volcanic dust and running for our lives, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Flirting now?” I tease. “Really?”

His lips quirk into that half-smile that never fails to make my heart skip. “Is there a better time?”

“I can think of a few,” I say with a bitter laugh, unable to help smiling back.

Riven’s eyes soften, his hand moving to rest against the side of my neck, his thumb tracing my pulse point. “When we get out of here,” he says, low and certain, “I’m going to spend days showing you exactly how much I love you. ”

The promise in his voice sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with fear. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes, Starlight,” he murmurs, leaning close, his lips brushing my ear. “In excruciating detail.”

My breath catches, but before I can respond, another violent impact from below yanks both of us back to the present.

Orthrus has resumed ramming the wall, each hit making the ledge beneath our feet tremble with warning of potential collapse.

“Later.” I squeeze his hand, turning toward the crack that leads to freedom. It’s just wide enough for us to slip through one at a time.

“You first,” Riven insists, positioning himself between me and the drop below.

I start to argue, but the determined set of his jaw tells me it’s pointless. He won’t budge—not when it comes to my safety.

“Fine,” I relent, “but you’re right behind me.”

“Always,” he promises, and I know he means it, in every possible way.

But before I can take a breath, the mountain lets out a terrible groan, like an ancient beast awakening from hibernation.

“Run!” Riven grabs my hand, and then we’re sprinting across the rocky terrain as the mountainside begins to crumble, boulders tumbling down as the entrance to the Pyros Vault collapses.

The ground trembles as we race toward a small outcropping, my lungs burning with every breath, the Ember at my hip pulsing with heat against my skin.

“Jump!” he commands as we reach the edge of a steep drop.

Without hesitation, I leap forward alongside him, magic surging through us both, the wind propelling us farther than what should be possible to jump.

We slam into the ground on the other side, rolling across sharp rocks as the final implosion sends a shockwave through the air. Riven pulls me against him, his body shielding mine as debris rains down around us, as if his only purpose in life is to keep me breathing.

When the rumbling finally stops, we lie there tangled together, covered in ash and blood from dozens of small cuts that are already healing. Morning light breaks over the horizon, bathing the land in a golden glow that feels jarringly gentle after the hellfire we just escaped.

Riven’s silver eyes are already on me, intense and searching as his hand finds mine.

The contact grounds me, anchoring me to this moment—to him.

“The Ember?” he asks, sitting up slowly.

I reach for the pouch at my hip, feeling for it .

“Still here,” I confirm, and he exhales, a mix of relief and exhaustion that I feel in the depths of my soul.

Now that the world’s finally still, I look back at the destroyed mountain, thinking of the two summer warriors who gave their lives for this mission. They swore an oath to us, and they followed through. Just like Lysandra said they would.

“Come on,” Riven says. “We need to get moving before something else tries to kill us.”

“Such an optimist,” I mutter, but I let him pull me to my feet, since he’s right—we need to move.

He looks at me then, and something vulnerable passes through his eyes as his arm slides around my waist, as if he’s grounding himself in me. “I almost lost you back there,” he says quietly. “When you slipped?—”

I press my fingers to his lips, stopping him. “You didn’t lose me. I’m still here.”

“Promise me you’ll stay that way,” he says against my fingertips, his eyes deadly serious. There’s no teasing in his voice now. Only fear. Only fire.

I slide my hand to cup his face, brushing my thumb over the angles I’ve memorized perfectly by now. “I promise to try.”

“Not good enough,” he says, his eyes darkening in that haunted way they’ve been since he stopped time and killed his guards in the clearing.

“It’s the best I can do,” I tell him. “We don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. But I swear to you, Riven Draevor, that when this is all over, I plan on being here, with you, forever.”

He sighs, leaning his forehead against mine. “You better be,” he says. “Because if you’re not…”

He trails off, as if the thought is too painful for him to think, let alone say out loud.

And for a moment, we simply stand there, foreheads touching, as the sun rises higher in the sky.

Our magic swirls between us—ice, water, air, and starlight—moving in a synchronized dance that feels as natural as breathing.

But amidst it all, the Ember pulses at my hip, a reminder of the unfinished mission.

“Ready?” I ask, pulling back to study his face.

He nods, as if he’s drawing strength from the determination in my eyes. “Ready.”