Page 27 of Midnight Star

Because I can still feel his eyes following me until the moment I’m gone.

Sapphire

As the afternoonsun filters into the igloo, I wake to Riven’s arms wrapped around me, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm beneath my ear. It’s a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days—a fleeting moment of peace I wish I could hold on to forever.

But it’s not his closeness that has my heart racing. It’s the dream still vivid in my mind—of the mysterious woman I encountered in the forest before I drank from the stream and fell into the fae realm.

The image of her is already fading, but what she said to me in the dream echoes in my thoughts:Above the earth and bound to light, your soul must rise to claim your sight.

I frown, the words settling over me like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

But I don’t have to solve them alone.

So, turning in Riven’s embrace, I find his silver eyesalready open, watching me. There’s a softness there reserved only for me, in these quiet moments we share together.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, his voice low and groggy.

“I had another dream.” My words tumble out, as if I’ll forget them if I don’t say them quickly enough. “It was her. The woman from the forest.”

His brow furrows as he sits up, the strands of his midnight hair catching in the light. “What did she say?”

I recite the line, each word clear in my memory.

“It sounds like a riddle.” He absently strokes my arm as he thinks. “Tell me exactly what you remember.”

I describe the dream in detail—the woman’s ethereal presence, the colorful galaxy that spiraled around us, and the way her words resonated through my very being.

As I speak, he listens intently, his expression thoughtful.

“When you project, your consciousness rises above your physical form,” he finally says. “That could be what she means by ‘above the earth.’”

“Maybe,” I say, since for a reason I can’t explain, I feel like there’s more to it than that. “But what about ‘bound to light?’ And ‘claiming my sight?”

“Perhaps it’s about discovering more of who you are.” His eyes search mine with an intensity that makesmy breath catch. “You’re unique, Sapphire. A hybrid of fae and vampire—something that shouldn’t be possible. There could be abilities within you that we don’t understand yet. Like your projection ability, for one.”

“Does that scare you?” I ask softly.

“No,” he says, taking my hands in his. “Like I told you yesterday, being part vampire is just one aspect of who you are. It doesn’t define you. Identity isn’t a matter of circumstance, but of discipline. It’s in the choices you make, the integrity you maintain, and the principles you keep. You have the power to take what you’re given and sculpt it into what you become. And, luckily for you, you have an extremely talented, well-trained, irresistible winter prince to help you along the way. Some might even call that an unfair advantage.”

I can’t help but smile at that last part. Then I look down at my bracelet—the only thing I have from the mother I’ve never met—and I realize just how much his words hit home.

“I’ve spent so long wondering what things might have been like if she hadn’t left,” I admit, meeting his eyes again. “But maybe I’m not going to find myself by digging through the past. Maybe I’ll do it by looking toward the future.”

“A wise decision,” he says, his trademark smirk returning. “Although right now, I say we forget aboutboth the past and the future, so we can focus on enjoying the present.”

Before I can reply, he leans forward and presses his lips to mine in a kiss that makes all my worries about who I am and the future in store for me disappear in a heartbeat.

When we part, I rest my forehead against his. “I love you,” I whisper.

“And I love you,” he replies. “Every single part of you.”

From there, the world outside the igloo ceases to exist—no mission, no looming threats, no unanswered questions. Just the comfort of his touch, the way his hands know exactly where to hold me, and the way he makes me feel grounded and weightless all at once.

Much later, as the sun’s starting to set, we lay on the thin sleeping roll with my head on his chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along my spine. There’s a comfortable silence between us—the kind that speaks louder than words.

I don’t want to step back into the reality waiting for us outside this space we’ve carved for ourselves. But the stars will come out soon, which means it won’t be long until we’re forced to leave our newfound sanctuary behind.

“We should pack up,” Riven says reluctantly,although he doesn’t pull away. “But first...” He meets my gaze again, serious now. “You should feed.”

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