Page 65 of Midnight Star

Which would I want to keep? Air, or water?

“My star magic,” I say softly, and all eyes go to me. “If you could project, you could explore the world beyond your tree.”

The roots tighten, as if reacting to my words.

Riven’s body tenses.

“No,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with something more than anger—fear. “Your magic was gifted to you by a goddess. If you trade it away, you’ll never get it back.”

“You’rethe one who told me that my magic doesn’t define me.” My voice is firm, unwavering, even as the roots pulse against my skin. “But love? Love is something that’s built. Fought for. It’s not something that can be reduced to a bargain. Not because it makes me whole, but because it makes memore.It reminds me that I don’t have to stand alone against the darkness. And besides,” I add, my eyes locked on his, “I’ll still be me. And I’ll still have my air and water magic. I’ll still be able to fight. I’ll still be able to stand. And I’ll have you by my side as I do.”

His jaw tightens, his muscles tensing against the roots that bind him.

“I will not let you trade away something that was gifted to you by a goddess,” he insists, not breaking, even in the slightest.

“You don’t have toletme,” I counter. “Because it’s not your choice to make.”

His gaze darkens, but he doesn’t fight me. He looks like he wants to, but he doesn’t.

I take a deep breath and look to the sky, praying that Celeste can hear me.Please understand,I think, but I get no response.

Chryserra, on the other hand, tilts her head and smiles. “It’s also up to me,” she says. “And I reject your offer.”

The roots slacken slightly, as if amused by my failure.

“See?” Riven exhales sharply, his voice laced with relief, despite the tension in his shoulders. “Even a dryad knows that taking your magic would be a terrible idea.”

But the relief is short-lived.

Because when he looks back at Chryserra, his voice is no longer bargaining. It’s resigning.

“Will I still have my memories of the moments she and I shared?” he asks.“Allof them?”

My heart feels like it’s shattering, and I twist against my binds, my pulse roaring in my ears.

“No,” I say to him. “You can’t do this.”

He doesn’t look at me. His sharp, silver eyes are locked onto Chryserra, waiting, calculating, deciding.

“Your memories will remain untouched,” she says. “You’ll remember the moments you shared, but not the emotions you felt during them. It will be like watching aplay you once performed in. You’ll know the lines, but the passion will be gone.”

The breath leaves my lungs all at once.

“Don’t.” I struggle harder, pushing against the roots, but they tighten again, holding me down. “There has to be another way.”

Chryserra watches me with cold amusement, like she already knows my attempts to stop Riven from doing this are futile.

“Think of it like emptying a cup,” she continues, smooth as silk. “The cup remains intact, capable of being filled again. I’m merely taking what’s inside it now.”

“But there’s no guarantee he’ll fall in love with me again,” I say, and my voice breaks—just like my heart.

“No,” she says, gentler now. “But the possibility remains. The capacity for love will still be there, waiting to be awakened.” She pauses, studying me with those unnerving green eyes of hers. “However, I do have some compassion. So, given your resistance, I won’t take his love unless you agree to the deal as well.”

Finally, I’m able to relax.

“Good. Because I don’t agree,” I say but then I feel it—the ice magic from our original deal creeping across my skin. The magic that binds me to do everything in my power to help Riven make the potion.

The magic that insists I say yes to Chryserra’s heartless offer.

---