We burst into the moonlit clearing neck and neck, Ghost and Nebula’s powerful strides eating up the final stretch of snow-covered ground. And there, at the center of the clearing, is the silver tree next to the stream that started it all. The one that serves as a portal back to the mortal realm. The one I fell through what feels like a lifetime ago.
“A tie,” I declare as our familiars come to a halt at the stream’s edge.
“I was clearly ahead,” Riven argues, but his grin takes any sting out of the words.
“In your dreams, Winter Prince.”
He swings off Ghost, turning to help me down. His hands are firm yet gentle as they circle my waist, lowering me carefully, but his touch doesn’t vanish once my feet touch the ground. Instead, his fingers linger, brushing along my sides as if tracing the shape of me. It’s like he’s trying to memorize every detail in case he never gets the chance again.
“Hey,” I say softly, my hand coming up to touch his face, drawing his attention back from wherever it’s drifted.
He exhales slowly, his eyes bright and intense in the moonlight. “Sometimes it feels like if I look away for even a second, you’ll disappear,” he confesses, serious again, despite the fun we just had running through the forest.
“I’m here.” I smile gently, brushing my thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise me,” he says, and there’s an edge of desperation in his voice that makes my heart clench.
“Riven—” I start, stopping when the bond sharpens with the depth of his fear. Not of the coming war, but of losing me. Of being left alone in a world that wouldn’t have any meaning to him without me in it.
It’s powerful. Real. Consuming in a way that makes me wonder how he’s able to smile through it and race me through the woods while seeming to not have a care in the world.
Because Riven cares. A lot.
Maybe more than he should.
But every second I wait to reply, the fear grows sharper, until it feels like it might consume me entirely.
“I promise,” I whisper, standing on my tiptoes and sealing the promise with a kiss that tastes of frost and starlight.
He returns it so fiercely that I don’t think he ever wants to stop. But eventually, we settle by the stream’s edge, the snow crunching beneath us as we find a fallen log to use as a bench. Ghost and Nebula curl up nearby, resting from our ride through the forest.
Riven draws his sword and rotates it slowly, admiring the newly infused magic that shimmers across its surface—an iridescent blend of icy blue and warm gold. A mix of summer and winter. Thanks to the potion created by Fleur, all the weapons we’ll be taking into the war are filled with both types of magic.
Together, our bound powers should decimate the night fae.
“Summer magic suits you,” I tease, nudging his shoulder with mine.
“Frostbite likes it.” He glances sideways at me, a playful smirk on his lips. “But not nearly as much as I like you.”
“You’ve demoted me tolike?”I flinch back, feigning offense.
“There are no words strong enough to describe what I feel for you,” he muses, the playful look gone from his expression in an instant. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.” I swallow hard, blinking back the tears pricking at my eyes. Because while his love for me is beautiful, the worry knotting my stomach about it is growing larger each day.
A moment passes in silence, the only sound the bubbling of the stream.
Eventually, Riven shifts slightly, his eyes thoughtful as he stares out at the shimmering water.
“We don’t have to do this,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
The knot in my stomach pulls tighter. “Do what?”
“Any of it.” His silver gaze flicks back to mine, earnest and pleading. “The war. The courts. Ambrogio. The Blood Coven. We could run, Sapphire. We could justbetogether, you and me, and put all of it behind us.”
My heart hurts at the longing in his voice, at how desperately he wants an escape from the weight we both carry.
“Where would we go?” I ask, even though the answer doesn’t matter. Not really.
