Page 49 of Stolen Star

Neither of us speaks for the rest of the drive. But we don’t let go of each other, either. There’s no need. Not with the bond humming between us, a powerful, wordless confirmation that I just glimpsed something far beyond love—something limitless, intense, and almost frightening in the magnitude of how completely it consumes him.

It would scare any normal person.

Luckily for both of us, I’m a star touched fae vampire princess who brought her soulmate back from the dead, which puts me far out of any possible realm of “normal.” And I love him with every single part of my heart and soul.

We eventually park at Mount Etna and make our way up a narrow hiking path, following coordinatesMaeris says will lead us to the hidden entrance. Tourists cluster in designated viewing areas far below us, but our journey takes us to a secluded section closed to the public—one that security seems blissfully unaware we’re passing. Apparently, the eyes of mortals typically slip over our kind. It’s their unconscious way of protecting their minds from the knowledge that they live amongst powerful supernaturals.

After about an hour of climbing, we round a bend and stop.

Before us stands a massive stone, twice my height and nearly as wide, its surface covered in ancient carvings. At its center is the image of a monstrous figure—part human, part serpent, with giant wings spreading out from its back. The carving ripples in the heat, as if the creature might break free at any moment.

“Typhon,” Maeris says, looking to me, since I must be the only one who doesn’t know who—or more likewhat—this Typhon is. “The Father of Monsters. One of the most powerful creatures of ancient myth. He fought Zeus himself, and it took all the god’s might to imprison him beneath Mount Etna.”

“It’s said that Typhon’s rage is what causes the volcano to erupt,” Thalia adds in a tone that feels way too lighthearted for the topic at hand.

I instinctively reach for the Star Disc at my hip. “We won’t have to fight him, right?” I ask, unable to move mygaze away from the monstrous figure on the stone. Because yes, we’re powerful supernaturals, butthatmonster would surely take an entire fae army to defeat—if even.

I turn to Riven. “Did you know about this?” I ask him, unable to believe he’d keep something like this from me.

“I’ve heard of Typhon, yes,” he says slowly. “In children’s tales. Because Typhon is a myth. We have nothing to worry about with him.”

“Your soulmate is correct,” Maeris adds, waving it off. “The stories about Typhon are myths.”

Eventually, I nod in acceptance. Riven would never let us walk into a fight with a monster we have no way of beating.

“How do you know what’s a myth in a world where so many myths are real?” I ask, directing the question to all three of them.

Thalia scoffs. “Because we know what’s reasonable and what’s not,” she says, as if the answer should be obvious. “A monster whose hundreds of heads in the shapes of wild beasts brush the stars, with innumerable arms, dozens of hands, and vipers from the thighs down to the ground is obviously a myth. He would have overtaken the world if he wasn’t.”

“Well, when you say it like that…” I mutter, my focus drifting back to the ward stone. “How do we get through?”

“Blood,” Thalia says simply, drawing a small blade from her belt. “We each contribute. According to the texts in our ancient library, the stone will recognize the magic in our blood—it’s how the entrance knows we’re worthy to attempt the trials.”

Before we can further discuss, Maeris is in front of the stone, slicing his palm and letting a single drop of blood fall onto it. Thalia follows suit. Riven takes the blade next, making a clean cut across his palm and letting a few drops of his blood fall.

The scent hits me instantly—sharp, alluring, and delicious. But I won’t taste. Not after what happened last time. Not after…

“It’s okay, Starlight,” he says quietly, frost magic cooling the air between us. “I know. I trust you.”

His voice is soft but sure. And even though his blood still calls to me like a siren song, his trust silences the hunger.

“I love you,” I tell him, and then I take the blade and draw it across my palm, wincing at the sting. My blood—a mixture of water, air, frost, and star magic—falls onto the stone, a drop of crimson against the ancient gray.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, the carving of Typhon begins to glow, pulsingwith a deep, fiery light that spreads outward like veins of lava. The air before the stone shimmers, distorting the landscape beyond.

We all look at each other, waiting for the go ahead.

“Now,” Maeris commands, and we step forward together.

The moment we cross the threshold, the world shifts around us. The air grows thick with magic, pressing against my skin like a living thing. Colors intensify, sounds deepen, and the weight of the mortal realm falls away.

This place isn’t just old. It’s sacred.

And it’s watching.

SAPPHIRE

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