Page 34

The jet hums around us, the sound hollow and distant compared to the silence between Sapphire and me.

T is locked away in the cockpit. So, given that Thalia and Maeris are gone, Sapphire and I are the only ones in the cabin.

I stare out the window, watching the clouds part before us, drowning in the thoughts and feelings that have been threatening to consume me whole since…

well, since I don’t know when. Everything since the dryad’s deal has felt surreal.

My love torn away, only to be replaced with the pain of taking the brunt of Sapphire’s hatred from Eros’s lead arrow, and then her fusing our souls together in the Tides…

I feel like I’ve been completely rewired, rebuilt from the ground up. Every thought, every breath, every heartbeat, is now anchored to her .

After a stretch of silence that feels both endless and insufficient, Sapphire finally speaks.

“She knew what she was doing,” she says, her voice quiet—not meant to comfort, but to acknowledge the weight of everything we faced in the Vault.

I don’t respond at first. Because of course Thalia knew what she was doing. She was a warrior—she had been for centuries. She understood sacrifice better than most.

But it’s not Thalia and Maeris I’m thinking about.

“If it had been you or me, it would have broken the other,” Sapphire continues, apparently blissfully unaware of what’s truly going through my mind.

“Yes,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend. “It would have.”

For a moment, I look at her—really look at her. Her white-blonde hair with those blue streaks that catches even the dull cabin light, her eyes that shift between shades of blue depending on which magic she’s pulling from, and the soft glow of starlight that always seems to shimmer across her skin.

This is the woman I’ve died for, who I’ve frozen time for and killed for. The woman whose soul I share, who unmade me and remade me into something hers.

I hope she knows. I think she does. She must feel it through the bond—the way I burn every time she’s near. The way there’s nothing left in me untouched by her. It’s an endless, aching desire, bound together in a soul-deep connection that defies logic and reason.

And now, she’s watching me, waiting for me to say something. Likely to express grief for Thalia and Maeris.

However, I can’t lie to her. I can’t express something I don’t feel.

“I made the right call,” I say instead, pulling my frost back inside me. “And I’d make it again if I had to.”

And again. And again. Even if it means losing everything else.

Even if it means losing myself.

Her head tilts slightly, studying me with those eyes that take my breath away. “With Maeris and Thalia?” she asks, and with that, something inside me snaps.

Because I don’t want to talk about Maeris and Thalia.

I want to talk about her. She’s the only thing that matters now. I need her to understand that, and for her to accept it. If she doesn’t, and if she walks away like the Lonely King said she would, then he’s what I’ll be forced to become.

And a future like that isn’t worth living.

“With all of it.” The words come out cold and precise—the Winter Prince speaking an undeniable truth.

“Because anything and anyone who threatens you will freeze and shatter, and I don’t feel guilty about it anymore.

That’s the way I love you now. Without remorse.

Without hesitation. Without limits. My universe begins and ends with you, and I’ve never felt more at peace with anything in my life. ”

My fists clench as I brace for her to pull away. To show some sign of horror at the monster I’ve revealed myself to be.

Instead, her water rises to meet my ice, twining together in impossibly beautiful, delicate patterns.

“Good,” she breathes, her eyes blazing, her magic an echo of my own. “Because I don’t want your guilt. I want you exactly as you are—ruthless, fierce, and able to love with a depth and intensity I never thought possible.”

I cup her face, pulling her closer, desire rushing through me as our bond pulses hotter than ever between us. “Do you mean that?” I ask, the question raw, almost broken. Because it’s not just longing—it’s need. Crushing, all-consuming need.

“With all my heart,” she says, the four words meaning more to me than she could ever possibly realize.

“Then I’m done pretending I care about anything other than you,” I admit, relaxing in a way I haven’t since executing my guards in that clearing. “You’re my world now, Starlight. Forever.”

My words hang between us, electric and fierce, slicing through the quiet hum of the jet engine until there’s nothing left but charged silence .

“Good,” she says softly. “Because I want all of it. And I don’t want you to pretend to be something you’re not. Not to me. Never to me.”

Heat flares through me at her words, and I lean closer, my fingers tangling in her hair, the blue streaks catching the muted cabin lighting like a reflection of her magic.

My thumb traces her jawline as I tilt her head back gently, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss that steals the breath from both of us.

She responds instantly, melting into my touch, her body pressing close, her magic pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. I feel her warmth against my ice, creating a perfect, intoxicating balance as I lift her effortlessly, guiding her to sit across my lap, holding her firmly in place.

Her legs shift around me, our magic entwining into something powerful and undeniable. Water and ice. Chaos and control. Everything I am, needing to be swallowed whole by her.

“I promise,” I tell her, meeting her gaze, our faces mere inches apart now. “I belong to you forever.”

“And I belong to you,” she whispers back. “Always.”

My lips linger against hers for one more moment before the steady hum of the jet engine reminds me we’re not alone. T is just beyond that cockpit door.

But I don’t care. Because Sapphire is in my lap, her hands buried in my hair, her magic twining tighter around mine with every breath. And she’s looking at me like I’m not a prince, or a weapon, or a monster.

She’s looking at me like I’m hers.

Our bond pulses bright and sharp as she kisses me again.

It’s deeper this time—hungrier, needier, threaded with everything we’ve endured and everything that’s impossible to say as my hands roam her body like a prayer, savoring every detail of this moment.

The curve of her spine. The warmth of her hips.

The way my body ignites when we finally shed every last inch of clothing that’s keeping me from being exactly where I need to be.

When she finally makes me whole again, my breath catches, my magic flares, and I wrap my arms around her like I’ll never let go. Because I won’t. I can’t.

And so, right there on this seat in the plane, we give each other everything. Slowly. Desperately. Without hesitation. The bond surges between us, wild and consuming, pulling us deeper until there’s nothing left but magic and love and need.

Eventually, the intensity fades into something softer, like a storm finally calming.

And as the wild magic quiets, a gentle warmth remains.

A peaceful intimacy that wraps us up in its soothing embrace as she stays curled against me, her fingers tracing lazy circles over my chest in a way that’s setting my body on fire all over again.

“As much as I’d like stay like this forever,” she murmurs, making me brace for words I expect I won’t want to hear, “perhaps we should get ourselves presentable before our pilot decides to check on us.”

At the suggestion, I only pull her closer, relieved when she doesn’t resist.

“Another minute,” I whisper against her skin, a plea more than a request. “I want to remember exactly how this feels. Just in case the world tries to steal it from us again.”

She moves back slightly, her thumb brushing my jaw, anchoring me to her warmth. “Even if it tries again,” she says, fierce and determined in a way that makes it clear she needs me to believe it, “it won’t win.”

Another rush of love flows through me, so intense that I swear it’s going to break me. She’s going to break me. And I’ll let her, every single time.

“No. It won’t,” I agree. “Because I won’t let anything ever take you from me.”

Her eyes darken, her magic surging against mine. She’s temptation incarnate, wrapped around me like sin and starlight, and every instinct I have screams to keep her right where she is, connected to me in the most intimate, primal way possible, until the end of time.

Instead, I gather every ounce of control inside myself as she lifts herself from my lap, even though it feels like peeling myself out of the only truth I’ve ever wanted to live inside.

The space between us feels unbearable as we gather our clothes from where they’ve ended up strewn across the cabin to get ourselves together.

Eventually, I make my way to the small galley at the back of the jet, frost trailing in my wake as I struggle to rein in my magic.

The cold metal of the refrigerator handle feels grounding against my palm as I pull it open, revealing an assortment of drinks.

After a moment’s consideration, I select a bottle of sparkling wine—something about the bubbles reminds me of Sapphire’s magic when she’s unraveling in my arms: wild, electric, and impossible to contain—and pour us each a glass.

When I return, she’s tucked one leg beneath her, looking out the window at the clouds drifting by. For a moment, I just watch her, memorizing this moment of quiet beauty amid the chaos of our lives.

“This doesn’t sparkle nearly as much as you do, but it’s the closest I could get to capturing starlight in a glass,” I finally say, offering her one.

She takes it from me, watching me with that smile that sets my world on fire. “To getting the Ember,” she says, raising it in a toast.

“No,” I say, fierce and unfiltered. “To the only thing that matters. You.”

Her smile softens, her eyes holding mine as if she’s seeing straight into my soul.

“To us. Because that’s the only thing that makes any of this worth it,” she says, and then she laughs softly, her magic shimmering around her like constellations on a mirrored lake.

“You really know how to distract a girl from an impending war, don’t you? ”

I tilt my head, giving her a teasing look. “You’re not exactly making it easy to focus.”

She takes a deep breath, then reluctantly gestures toward the bag beside us. “Before your inability to focus wears off on me, maybe we should take a look at exactly what we risked our lives for?”

“I suppose we should,” I say with a sigh, my eyes drifting along every part of her body as she opens the satchel, removing the box that contains the Ember of Prometheus.

Inside, the Ember pulses steadily, a rhythmic heartbeat of molten gold and deep crimson.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, water spiraling around her fingers as she hovers them near the orb.

“And deadly,” I add, my eyes fixed on the shifting glow reflected across her features. “This is what will breach the Night Court’s wards. What will allow us to finally bring the fight to them.”

The reality of it settles over me as I speak the words.

Because this isn’t just an object of power. It’s a declaration of war. With this Ember, we’ll cross a line that cannot be uncrossed.

Sapphire’s eyes meet mine, fierce determination glowing in their depths. “We’re really doing this. Starting a war.”

“They started it,” I correct her, and my hand covers hers, ice meeting water in a dance as familiar as breathing. “We’re just finishing it.”

The Ember pulses between us, its ancient fire casting long shadows across the cabin.

In its light, I see the future stretching before us.

Not the doomed ones from the visions in the Cosmic Tides, but something new.

Something forged in our own image. Something where we don’t survive by fate—we survive by force.

Because whatever stands in our way, we will destroy it. This is what we’ve become now. Not just husband and wife, not just Summer and Winter united, but something more. Something even the gods should fear.

Because for Sapphire, there’s no line I won’t cross. No enemy I won’t destroy. No fate, no matter how cruel, I won’t defy.

The Night Court may have started this war—but we are the storm that will end it.