Page 70 of Stolen Star

My heart stops. “That can’t be?—”

“Orthrus,” Riven growls, ice crackling along his blade. “Run.”

We sprint down the tunnel, the enraged howls of the beast growing softer behind us. Eventually, the tunnel narrows, forcing us to slow our pace.

“How’s it still alive after being buried under half a mountain?” I ask as we squeeze through tight spaces.

“Immortal, maybe,” Riven replies as we climb a particularly steep incline. “Or just very, very hard to kill.”

We continue like that for a few minutes, until the tunnel opens into a vast chamber where massive stalactites hang like stone daggers, ready to impale anything below.

“No way out,” I say, scanning the walls. “It’s a dead end.”

The chamber feels smaller, suffocating, pressing in on us as dread pools in my stomach. And even though every instinct is screaming at me to keep moving, hope’s slipping away like water through my fingers.

“Look.” Riven points to a narrow opening high onthe far wall, his voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “There’s our exit.”

It’s at least fifty feet up the sheer rock face, barely visible in the dim light. But before I can fully process that we’re supposed to somehowget up there,another ear-splitting howl echoes through the tunnel behind us.

Riven sheathes his sword and begins scaling the wall, finding handholds where I see none. His movements are fluid and precise, his apparent wilderness survival training evident in every controlled motion.

He stops after ascending about ten feet.

“Come on,” he calls down to me. “I’ll guide you.”

“You can’t be serious.” My throat tightens as I gaze up the rock wall. If either of us falls when we’re near the top, our air magic could possibly catch us, but that’s not an experiment I want to conduct anytime soon—orever.

“I’m deadly serious,” he says, staring down at me as if the entire world rests on what’s coming next. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

After everything we’ve been through, feeling any other way would be impossible.

“Good,” he says, releasing a breath he’d apparently been holding. “Then get over here andclimb.”

Gathering myself together enough to somewhat steady myself, I take a deep breath and reach for the first handhold, pulling myself up. Then I do it again, andagain. Each foothold seems narrower, each grip more fragile, sending tiny avalanches of dust and gravel cascading into the darkness below.

“Here,” Riven says, stretching down to guide my hand to a secure grip. “I won’t let you fall.”

His eyes lock with mine, and the intensity there makes my breath catch—that fierce, possessive look that says he’d tear the world apart before he’d let anything happen to me.

“I know,” I whisper, and for a moment, the monster pursuing us, the mission, and even the Ember in my satchel all fades to background noise.

Another crash from below breaks the moment.

“Keep going,” I urge him. “I’m right behind you.”

Riven climbs with graceful efficiency, pausing every few feet to help guide me to the safest path. He’s moving slower than he could—I know he could scale this wall in half the time if he were alone—but he refuses to leave me more than an arm’s length behind.

“Almost halfway,” he calls down, reaching to take my hand as I struggle with a particularly smooth section of wall. His grip is sure and strong, ice magic cooling my overheated skin as he pulls me up to his ledge.

For a heartbeat, we’re pressed together on the narrow outcropping, his chest against mine, our faces inches apart. His breathing quickens, frost patternsswirling around us in delicate spirals that reflect his emotions better than words ever could.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his breath cool against my cheek. “Just a little further.”

But before I can respond, the wall at the chamber’s entrance explodes, stones flying in all directions as Orthrus bursts through, both heads snarling, muscles bunching beneath its scorched hide as it locks its coal-red eyes on us.

SAPPHIRE

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