Page 17 of Stolen Star

“Too simple,” I counter, playing along. “It needs something more... imposing.”

“Frostline,” he suggests with a smirk.

“That’s just trying to complement Frostbite.” I roll my eyes.

“Guilty.”

I shake my head. “It’s a star weapon, not a snowflake.”

“Fine. Then maybe Glimmercut,” he offers next. “Or Moon Doom.”

“Moon Doom?” I repeat, laughing despite myself. “It’s a star, not a moon. And I’m starting to question your grasp of astronomy.”

“I grasp enough to know that Glimmercut suits it,” he says, his fingers trailing frost along my arm with deliberate slowness, like he’s memorizing the shape of me all over again. “Elegant but deadly, just like its wielder.”

My breath catches, and I pull the Disc from my belt,studying the way starlight reflects off its polished surface.

“Glimmercut,” I test the name, feeling how it rolls off my tongue. “I like it.”

“Then Glimmercut it is.” Riven nods, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “A worthy name for the weapon of the star touched princess who stole my heart and razed my world.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, drawing me close. For a long moment, we justexist,surrounded by the crackle of flames and the hum of magic. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a soothing rhythm reminding me he’s alive, safe, andmine.

“I like this,” he murmurs after a while, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“Naming weapons?” I tease, lifting my chin to meet his gaze again.

“No.” He pulls back enough to look at me, his eyes impossibly soft—although still haunted. “Having you stand with me. Even after…” He glances at the pyre, his jaw tight. “Even after everything. You ground me, Sapphire. You have since the moment I saw you across that bar.”

He doesn’t say it, but I feel his panic through the bond. The terror that I’ll fade away, that he’ll wake to find it was all a dream. That the gods—or fate—might rip me from his arms again.

So, I rise onto my toes and press a kiss to his lips. It’s soft and slow, a silent promise that says everything I can’t put into words.

I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.

When we break apart, the moon is high, casting silver light across the clearing. Ghost and Nebula sit quietly nearby, nuzzling each other and watching us with calm, knowing eyes.

“Glimmercut and Frostbite,” I say, trying—and failing—not to smile again. “Quite the formidable team.”

Riven chuckles, taking my hand and leading me away from the smoldering remains of the pyre. “Themostformidable team,” he agrees, but then he glances back, his expression turning cold again “And one the Night Court will soon regret crossing.”

SAPPHIRE

The restof our journey passes swiftly and easily.

Now, the Summer Court gates rise before us as the sun reaches its peak, trees woven together with flowering vines that bloom perpetually in defiance of the seasons.

Ghost and Nebula leap from the carriage, choosing to march regally beside us. Their presence sends a clear warning—these are not pets, but sentinels. Battle-tested, bonded, and ready to kill.

The sentries at the gate stare openly at our approach, their expressions shifting from curiosity to suspicion.

“Princess Sapphire,” the first guard says, bowing his head. “Welcome back to the Summer Court.”

Back.

As if this place was ever a true home to me.

The second guard eyes the empty carriages in ourcaravan. “The Summer Court was informed that you would be arriving with a diplomatic entourage,” he says simply.

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