“I wasn’t finished yet.” Riven’s voice drops lower, each word measured, precise, and planned. “You’ll use your divine blood to remove the soul-consuming aspect of our bond, without diminishing or making us forget our love for each other. You’ll restore equilibrium between us so neither soul overwhelms the other. You’ll ensure that I remain myself—Riven Draevor—capable of loving Sapphire Hayes Fairmont Solandriel Draevor with my whole heart, while maintaining my own identity, my own thoughts, my own will, and my own life.”
I feel the weight of his words, the careful construction that leaves no room for loopholes or tricks.
“Furthermore,” he continues, “you’ll remove any potential lingering effects of the lead arrow. You’ll also ensure that the rebalancing causes no harm to either of us, physically or emotionally, and creates no new bonds, debts, or obligations beyond what naturally exists between two people who love each other.”
Eros tilts his head, his golden eyes gleaming with grudging respect. “You’ve thought this through.”
“I have. And there’s one final condition,” Riven adds. “The rebalancing must be permanent. No temporary fixes that will fade over time, no hidden triggers that could undo it, and no secret conditions.”
Eros considers for a long moment, his fingers tracing the broken pieces of his bow, and looks at me. “In return, you’ll repair my bow completely, restoring all its divine properties and powers.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “To the best of my ability with the potion I possess.”
The one the summer fae—Fleur—developed in the war room after I broke her dagger with the Star Disc.
“You’ll repair the bow first. I’ll supply my blood after,” he says, and it’s a demand, not a question.
I glance at Riven, who nods, and then I turn back to Eros.
“I’ll repair the bow first,” I confirm.
“Then I accept your terms. My blood for the rebalancing, exactly as the Winter Prince described it, in exchange for the restoration of my bow.”
Relief washes through me, but I keep my expression controlled.
“There’s just one more detail to finalize,” he adds, a sly smile spreading across his unnervingly perfect face. “Shall we seal our bargain with a kiss?”
Riven stiffens, frost crackling along his arms, but I squeeze his hand reassuringly.
“Not a chance in hell,” I reply, my tone light but firm.
Eros places a hand over his heart, his wings fluttering behind him. “Your loss, Star Touched. No kiss can ever compare with one from the god of love himself.”
I can’t help but laugh at his wounded vanity. “No kiss can compare to one with my soulmate,” I counter, leaning into Riven’s side and extending my hand toward Eros, water swirling around my skin. “We’ll seal the deal the old-fashioned way—with a handshake.”
Eros sighs dramatically, but he sets down the fragments of his bow and moves toward us. “Your loss,” he says to me, although luckily, he doesn’t argue further.
“You’ll each repeat the terms,” Riven says, and then he speaks them out loud for us to repeat, as if we’re at a marriage ceremony performing our vows.
Eros keeps his golden eyes locked on mine the entire time. It’s uncomfortable, but I remain still, unflinching, meeting his steady gaze with my own.
When we’re done, Eros and I clasp hands, and I release my magic.
Water surges from my palm, crystallizing as frost joins it, forming an intricate, glowing pattern that wraps around our joined hands. Slowly, the magic climbs up our arms, twines around our wrists and forearms, and sinks beneath our skin. It feels like plunging into an icy lake, exhilarating and intense, Eros’s divine energy mingling with mine in a swift, undeniable rush. And as the final spark of magic slips beneath our skin, Ibreathe in sharply, feeling it settle deep within me. A promise etched into my soul, undeniable and permanent.
Eros draws his hand out of mine and flexes his fingers, looking both impressed and irritated. “Fascinating,” he admits. “I feel it like a living contract written into my very essence.”
“You’ve never made a deal with a fae before?” I ask, surprised.
“I’m agod.”He scowls, as if we weren’t already aware of his divine status. “Of course I’ve never done something as mundane as making a deal with a fae.”
“First time for everything.” Riven smirks. “And trust me—Sapphire knows how to have a good first time. And a second, and a third, and… well, you get the picture.”
Eros narrows his eyes at Riven, then turns to me. “Is he always this insufferable?” he asks.
“Usually worse.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “But that’s half his charm.”
“Half?” Riven arches a brow. “Clearly, I’m slipping. I usually aim for at least seventy-five percent.”
