Page 49 of Midnight Star

Realizing where my mind is going, I snap back into focus. Fantasizing about Riven isn’t where my head should be right now.

The ingredients,I remind myself as I ground myself in the present.The blood.

“The blood has to be mine specifically?” I ask now that I’m focused again. “Because I’m also half vampire?”

Celeste shakes her head, and from her small smile, I have a feeling she knows exactly what I was thinking about a minute ago. “Any summer fae blood would work,” she says. “But yours is readily available, andyou’re willing to provide it. The fae in the Summer Court would be... less accommodating.”

I nod, since her point is valid, and listen as she goes on to explain how to brew the potion.

“Do you have pens and paper around here?” I ask when she’s finished, glancing at the door that leads inside the building. “So I can write this all down?”

“I have something better,” she says, and with a flick of her hand, she sprinkles glittering silver sparkles over my bracelet.

The sapphires strung in it ignite with a brilliant, pulsing glow, each gemstone catching the light as if a piece of the night sky has been trapped within. The magic doesn’t just settle—it seeps in, burrowing deep, threading through the metal and embedding itself into the core of the stones.

Then, as quickly as it surged, the glow dims, the bracelet settling back into quiet stillness. But it’s different now. It’s heavier, charged, no longer just an accessory, but something alive.

“Stardust,” Celeste explains. “I used it to enchant your bracelet. Now, whenever you need to remember the ingredients or brewing instructions for the potion, focus your magic into the sapphires and think about what you need to know. The information will project itself, just as I showed you with the ingredients moments ago. Try it.”

I run my fingers across the cool gems, picturing theingredients we discussed. Immediately, spectral images appear above my wrist—the Black Tupelo tree, the duskberry, the flower, the moonshard, and the vial of blood, along with the instructions for brewing the potion written on a parchment in warm, glowing script.

“Perfect,” she says. “You learn quickly.”

The praise sends a flutter of pride through me, but it also reminds me of how much I still don’t understand. About being star touched, about my dual fae vampire nature, and about everything that’s happened since I fell into the mystical realm.

“I have so many questions,” I begin, but Celeste holds up a hand, cutting me off.

“And no time to ask them,” she says. “You need to leave. Now.”

“What? Why?”

“Because to reach the Summer Court, you must be in Central Park before one,” she explains. “During the hours the park is closed to mortals—between one and six—the wall between realms grows thin. Anyone inside the park during those hours shifts into the mystical realm the moment the clock strikes one.”

I stare at her, confusion mounting. “But we’re already in the mystical realm. And even if we’re near a portal to the mortal realm, we’re nowhere near New York City. There’s no way we’ll be able to?—“

“The pond where you found me is no ordinary bodyof water,” she interrupts. “I’ve transformed it into a portal that will take you directly to Central Park. But you must hurry. You have less than fifteen minutes until the shift occurs.”

My mind spins as I process what she’s saying. “So, we just jump in the pond, and we’ll land exactly where we need to be?” I ask.

“You’ll emerge from a lake near the Black Tupelo tree, in an area of the park called the Ramble.” She steps closer, her expression serious. “But you’ll need to be careful, especially with the Winter Prince by your side.”

“Will Riven be okay there?” I ask. “The heat?—”

“Will weaken him,” she confirms. “But he’s strong, and his love for you is stronger. Trust in that. Always.”

“I will,” I say, meaning it with every piece of my heart. “But what about Ghost? Can we bring him with us?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says. “But don’t worry. He’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure about that?” I ask. “Because he almostwasn’tokay in that winter storm a few days ago.”

“My sisters and I will ensure his safety,” she says. “We have ways of predicting where the next storms will appear.”

“Because one of them is a storm goddess,” I remember.

“Precisely.”

As she says the word, the galaxy above us pulses, as if sensing the urgency of the moment.

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