Page 17 of Frozen Star
Because we can’t run, and we both know it.
At least… I think he knows it.
He brushes his thumb across my cheek, his voice dropping to a tone so intense it feels like he’s pulling the words from deep in his soul.
“To the stars,” he says, his gaze locked on mine as if every hope he has in the universe depends on my answer. “Towherever the world can’t follow us. I don’t care where it is, because as long as it’s with you, it’s enough.”
SAPPHIRE
I search Riven’s face,the earnestness in his eyes making my stomach twist.
He really means it. He would abandon everything—the war, the realms, the people counting on us—just to be with me.
It should be romantic. But part of me—a large part—is terrified by the sheer magnitude of it.
“To the stars,” I echo, letting the words float into the silence around us.
“Maybe Celeste could bring us to the Midnight Star.” He leans forward, his expression brightening. “We could live there forever, in a world of peace, just the two of us.”
For a second, I let the vision bloom in my mind: Riven and me, untouched by the war, happy and safe in a celestial paradise. Thanks to the vision of us in the Tides, it’s easy to imagine.
But the more vividly I picture it, the stronger the pang of loss becomes, reminding me of everything we’d leave unresolved. Saving Zoey from the Night Court, getting to know my mother, meeting the other star touched, and the guilt of knowing I let down Celeste after she chose me over everyone else in the world.
“As beautiful as that sounds,” I say slowly, choosing my words like I’m navigating a minefield, “this world is our home. You have your father now. His sanity is restored because of everything you did to save him. And I have to rescue Zoey. I need to make sure my aunt knows I’m okay.” I pause, a breeze stirring around us. “Plus, I just learned that Lysandra is my mother, and I haven’t even met my father yet. As far as I’m aware, he still might not know I exist.”
Riven’s expression doesn’t change. It’s like these things I’m listing—the people I care about and the things that used to be important to him—are merely inconveniences.
“Celeste chose me to fight in this war,” I continue, my voice growing stronger, needing to get through to him. “Not to run from it. These things matter to me, Riven. They’re important.”
He blinks, and for a moment, something like the old Riven flickers across his features. It’s slight, but it’s there.
“You’re right,” he says quietly, and just like that, I can breathe again. “I got ahead of myself. I thought…” He trails off, shaking his head, frost patterns forming around his fingers as he glances out at the stream. “I don’t know what I thought.”
But even as he says the words, I feel through our bond that his heart isn’t in them. The only thing that matters to him anymore is me. Everything else—his father, his court, the fate of the realms—it’s all secondary to keeping me safe and by his side.
My chest tightens with a realization that makes me feel sick. Because this isn’t the same man who made that deal with the dryad. This Riven, the one sitting beside me now, would never have sacrificed his love for me to get the ingredients for the potion that saved his father’s sanity. He wouldn’t have been able to do it, wouldn’t have even considered it an option. As for Eros’s arrows… I’m not sure what he would have done if he was like this while we were in the arena. Maybe tried harder to make me take the gold arrow, so we didn’t have to fight the god at all? His lovefor me is so consuming that I think he’d be glad if mine turned into undying love for him, despite the warnings Eros gave us about how undying love is just as destructive as hatred.
When I fused my soul with his in the Cosmic Tides, did I save him, or did I break something essential in who he was?
“You’re upset,” he says, and it’s a fact, not a question. He can likely feel the truth of it through the bond.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically, but even I can hear how unconvincing I sound.
“You’re not.” His voice is quiet and careful, as if he’s afraid of making it worse. “Talk to me.”
I shake my head, looking away to avoid the intensity of his gaze. But I can still feel him through the bond, the worry rolling off him in waves, threatening to consume me completely.
“It’s okay to be afraid of the war.” He brushes his thumb along my cheekbone, bringing my focus back to him. “You’re allowed to feel it.”
Frustration rises in my chest, sharp and sudden. He’s completely misreading me. He’s misreadingeverything.
“It’s not that,” I insist, harsher than I intended. Because the pressure of his worry, the overwhelming intensity of his feelings, keeps pouring into me. It’s too much. I need space, only for a moment, to clear my head.
And so, I do what he did during our mission at the Pyros Vault. I mute the bond.
The sudden silence feels deafening.
Riven’s breathing quickens, frost racing up his arms, ice crystals blooming and shattering in rapid bursts.
