Page 30 of Midnight Star

Ghost snarls, shifting his weight from paw to paw, his golden eyes locked on the flickering forms.

“They’re trying to split us up,” Riven says, widening his stance. “Stay by my side.”

I nod, my dagger’s hilt slick with sweat and blood. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The first shadow darts forward and feints toward me. But it pivots at the last moment, heading for Riven instead.

He raises his sword, ready to strike.

I don’t see the second shadow until it’s too late.

It lunges at me from the left, claws outstretched. I can already feel the sharp sting of pain that’s about to follow, bracing for the hit as I realize I don’t have enough time to move out of its way.

Then, suddenly, Riven’s throwing himself in front of me, and the shadow’s claws are raking across his shoulder to his chest, the force of the blow sending him staggering back.

A startling amount of blood sprays out of the wound.

No,I think as I launch myself through the air, driving my dagger into the shadow’s back.

Then, running on adrenaline and instinct, I spin and throw my dagger at the final shadow, using my air magic to guide the blade into the shadow’s chest.

It hitsexactlywhere I aimed.

The shadow screeches in pain, and the final caribou-man corpse thumps to the ground, my dagger landing on the snow beside it.

But I can’t stop yet—not when I’m separated from my weapon. So, I rush forward, snatch up the dagger, and turn to face Riven.

There’s blood on the snow around him, a startingly bright red against the white, but his wounds are nearly healed.

“Are you insane?” I snap at him. “You didn’t have to?—”

“I’m not letting them touch you,” he says fiercely, his eyes locking onto mine. “Not ever. I’d take a hundred hits if it meant keeping you safe.”

The raw emotion in his voice steals the breath from my lungs.

“You could have died,” I say, softer now, the pain tearing at my heart from the thought of it sharper than the claws of the shadows.

Ghost prowls between the fallen bodies of the caribou men, ensuring they’re truly dead.

Which, thankfully, they are.

“We were just attacked by Tariaksuq,” Riven says—as if I needed a reminder. “We both could have died. But we fought them together, and we made a hell of a good team. Although perhaps next time you need to feed, you should drink from me instead. It might be safer than becoming prey while we’re hunting.”

“No,” I say, taking a step backward. “I’d never do that. Don’t ever ask me to again.”

He tilts his head, studying me, and I suddenly feel like a cell under a microscope.

“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?” he finally asks.

My gaze drops to the snow, shame curling in my chest like a living thing. “In the cave. When we were trapped during the blizzard,” I say, clutching my dagger tightly. “You got cut during training, remember? It had been too long since I fed, and the scent of your blood—it was overwhelming. Intoxicating.”

Riven’s expression shifts as realization dawns in his eyes. “It had been almost three days since you’d last fed. You were starving,” he says, more a statement than a question.

I nod, my voice caught in my throat. “It took everything I had to hold back.”

Suddenly, he’s in front of me, reaching for me, his hand cupping my cheek. “Your strength amazes me,” he says, the tenderness in his touch making my heart ache. “Not just your magic or your fighting skills, but your ability to love so fiercely that it overcomes your darkest instincts.”

When his lips meet mine, it’s gentle—nothing like the kisses we shared in the cave and the igloo. It’s not about passion or urgency. It’s an acknowledgment of the trustbetween us—of the way we protect each other not just in battle, but in these quiet moments, too.

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