Page 75 of Midnight Star

“When you made that deal, I knew you’d probably forget that you loved me,” I tell him, still praying that none of this is real, even though I know it is. “But I didn’t realize you’dhateme.”

“Hate?” He laughs, a hollow sound that chills me to the bone. “This isn’t hate. If I hated you, then you wouldn’t be able to stand right now, let alone speak. You should be thanking the queen herself that I don’t hate you. As it is, I’m tired of this conversation, and the sap is almost ready. So, let’s make like a tree, and get out of here. Where did you say the duskberry is?”

“I didn’t,” I tell him, so jarred by his sudden shift in attitude that I can’t gather my thoughts, let alone my feelings.

“Did your star goddess tell you?” he presses.

“She did.”

I can barely bring myself to say more than two words to him at a time. If I do, he’ll probably use it as an opportunity to say more cruel, horrible, heart wrenching things. He’ll use them to crush my soul.

And then, miraculously, his expression softens.

“Look, Sapphire,” he starts, running his fingersthrough his hair in the way he always does when he’s getting exasperated. “I’m sure this is hard for you. But we made that deal with the dryad because this potion is bigger than you or me. So, take a few seconds. Center yourself. Then we can focus on what’s actually important.”

When he says it like that, reality hits me like a ton of bricks.

He doesn’t love me.

He doesn’t hate me.

He just thinks my feelings… aren’t important.

And, as I watch him now, I know this isn’t the moment I’m going to get through to him. And Iwillget through to him. It’s just going to take longer than a few minutes. I can’t give up aftera few minutes.

Our love deserves better than that. It deserves every minute until the end of my possibly immortal life.

Plus, he’s been a jerk to me many, many times. I got through it then, and I’ll get through it now.

But he’s right that our end goals are important. Saving Zoey, restoring his father’s sanity, and making sure the Night Court, the Blood Coven, and Ambrogio don’t turn into Revenants and destroy the world.

As we work together to make that all happen, he’s going to fall back in love with me. He’s going to see and feel everything that made him fall in love with me the first time around. All of those feelings will flood back tohim, and he’ll bethanking mefor not giving up on him. Which Ireallyhope is how this will play out, because when this is done, he’s going to owe me a lot more than one single favor.

I have to believe it’ll happen.

If I don’t, I’m afraid my entire heart will shatter, and that I’ll lose the pieces forever.

Sapphire

“The duskberry growsin Queen Lysandra’s private garden,” I tell this empty version of Riven, keeping my voice steady despite the hollow ache in my chest. “At the palace.”

He frowns as he gazes over the lake, frost spreading in intricate patterns around his hands and wrists as he thinks.

“The Summer Palace,” he muses, more to himself than to me. “It’s not ideal, but even without formally announcing my visit, Queen Lysandra would be foolish to treat me with anything less than diplomatic courtesy. Doing otherwise would risk a war with the Winter Court. Plus, once we inform her of the Night Court’s activities—and about their existence in general—she’ll have no choice but to listen, since the threat they represent affects both courts equally.”

“And you think she’ll just give us access to her private garden?” I ask.

“Not immediately.” He begins to pace, the temperature dropping with each step. “But she’ll negotiate. The summer fae are proud, but they’re not stupid. If the Night Court truly intends to wage war against both courts...” He trails off, his mind clearly racing ahead to possibilities and contingencies.

I watch him, trying to reconcile this coldly logical version of him with the man who held me in the cave and the igloo, who promised to love me forever. And despite knowing that we need to be focusing on the duskberry, it’s impossible to not replay the cruel things he just said to me in my mind.

He stops pacing and fixes me with an impatient look.

“Your emotional turmoil is distracting,” he says flatly. “I need you focused. Can you handle that, or should I leave you at this tree while I speak with the queen?”

The air around us grows heavy with moisture as my magic responds to my anger.

“I’m perfectly capable of focusing,” I shoot back at him. “And you need me there. Or did you forget what an importantassetI am to you?”

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