Page 50 of Midnight Star

“It’s time,” she says. “Return to your body and make the jump. And remember—being star touched means you’re never alone. When you need guidance, all you have to do is look to the sky.”

With that, the world around me fades, and the last thing I see is Celeste’s knowing smile as the beautiful star city dissolves into darkness.

Sapphire

I gaspas I snap back into my body, my eyes flying open.

As promised, I’m still cradled in Riven’s arms, his love wrapping around me like a shield against the chaos swirling in my mind. The steady rise and fall of his chest grounds me, and the way he’s holding me—like I’m the most precious thing in the world—makes it impossible to not feel safe.

“You’re okay,” he says, and he cups the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. “You’re here. You’re safe.”

There’s a rawness in his voice, a tremor that tells me how much concern he was holding back while I was gone. I feel it in his heartbeat pounding against mine, faster than ever before, and I realize that he wasn’t just worried—he was terrified.

The sheer relief in his touch makes me want to staylike this forever, wrapped in the certainty that no matter how dark things get, I’ll always have this. Always have him.

As it is now, I blink back into focus, since there’s no time to waste.

“I did it,” I tell him. “I projected to the Midnight Star. And I met her. Celeste. The ancient woman.” I sit up straighter in his arms, my mind racing with everything I learned. “Although she’s not just an ancient woman. She’s a goddess. The star goddess.”

Confusion flickers across his face. “The ancient woman is a goddess?”

“Yes, and she told me everything we need to know about the potion. There was a lot more, too, but—” I break off and scramble out of his arms, nearly stumbling in my haste to reach the pond’s edge.

Sure enough, the constellations reflected in its mirrored surface are still aligned into a clock face. And the hands are minutes away from striking one.

“We have to go,” I continue, my heart racing. “Now.”

“Go where?” Riven asks, coming to stand beside me.

Ghost prowls over too, his golden eyes reflecting the starlight.

“The pond—it’s a portal. Celeste enchanted it to take us to Central Park in New York City.” I grab Riven’s hand, tugging him closer to the water’s edge. “But wehave to jump through before one, or else we’ll miss the shift.”

He doesn’t move, his gaze shifting to Ghost. “We can’t just?—”

“Ghost will be fine,” I cut him off. “Celeste and her sisters will make sure of it. But we need to go. Now.”

I pull him forward, but he resists with so much intensity that I nearly freeze on the spot.

“I’m the Winter Prince,” he says slowly, as if I’m out of my mind. “I know what happens in Central Park at one. You’re asking me to jump straight into the Summer Court.”

His jaw tightens as he stares me down, searching for answers I don’t have time to give.

“It’s where the final ingredients are,” I tell him, and I squeeze his hand, as if that might convince him to come without asking more questions. “We have to go there to get them.”

His eyes search mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths, so intense that I brace myself for anything. “The Summer Court,” he says again, softer this time. “My magic will be weakened there.”

“And I’ll be right there with you.” I step closer, placing my free hand on his chest, right over his heart. The connection between us is tangible, electric, and it’s like the rest of the world falls away, leaving us in its wake. “I promised to do everything in my power to helpyou make this potion. The ice magic that binds our deal wouldn’t let me lie about this.”

Being fae also makes it impossible to lie about it, but there’s no need to get into semantics. Riven knows as well as anyone that there are many creative ways to dance around lies with truths.

The moment stretches between us, and a wave of worry crashes over me at the possibility that he’ll say no.

Then, his expression softens, and he cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the war he’s clearly battling within himself.

“I know,” he finally says, and slowly, his gaze travels from me to Ghost.

The snow leopard’s eyes are bright with intelligence as he looks between us, the low rumble in his chest sounding almost like approval.

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