Page 63 of Frozen Star
But what draws my attention are the statues. They stand throughout the garden, hundreds of them, perhaps thousands.
Each one depicts a pair of lovers.
“They look…” Riven starts quietly, his voice tightening.
“Ruined.” I step closer to the first statue, unable to avert my gaze.
A woman stands with a hand pressed against the chest of a man who leans desperately toward her. Her expression is pure fury, carved with ruthless precision, her eyes cold and hard. His face is twisted in anguish, hopeless longing etched into stone.
I swallow hard, memories surfacing too vividly. Riven and me, and the pain I’m sure was splashed over my face every time he touched me while I was affected by the lead arrow.
Unable to look for a moment longer, I tear my gaze away from the statue. My attention falls to another a few feet away, where a man kneels, his hands wrapped around the waist of a woman turning her back on him. He clings to her like she’s the only anchor in a storm, his expression shattered, helplessly obsessed.
Riven follows my gaze, his jaw tight. “It feels like looking in a mirror,” he murmurs. “One that shows every twisted possibility of what love can become.”
“Of every way we almost destroyed each other,” I say, reaching for his hand.
He pulls me close, and we move through the haunting statues together, each pair another portrait of love turned to ruin. Couples frozen mid-argument, mid-scream, and mid-heartbreak. A woman with her back turned to a man who reaches for her, his eyes full of pain. Another of two lovers holding each other tightly, although their expressions are bitter, as if each is blaming the other for their misery.
I stop at the next one, my heart feeling like it’s been pulled out of my chest. Because this statue is a woman kneeling over a man who’s dying in her arms. Her face is contorted with such anguish that I have to look away.
“It reminds me of us,” I say as Riven pulls me close, grounding me. “In the Tides, when you...”
I can’t finish the sentence. The memory of Riven’s lifeless body in my arms, drained of blood because he gave it all to me, is suddenly too fresh for me to speak it out loud.
His eyes lock onto mine, full of burning resolve. “When I think of that moment, I remember what it felt like to slip away from you. And it terrifies me, because I don’t ever want to leave your side again. Not even for an instant.”
I reach up, framing his face with my hands, my thumbs brushing over the frost-kissed angles of his jaw. “That’s all in the past,” I tell him, fighting with everything I have to ground myself. “We’re here because we’re fighting for our future. And these statues around us… we’re not going to become them. Ever. I won’t allow it.”
“Always so stubborn, Starlight.” He gives me a small, sad smile, as if he doesn’t know when—or if—he’ll see me clearly again.
“I learned from the best.” I pull him closer, holding his gaze, my determination tightening as I stare into his haunted eyes. “Now, come on, Winter Prince. We have a god to put in his place.”
Understanding fills the air between us, and we move forward again, stepping cautiously through the haunting display. Each sculpture feels like another ghost from our past, another reminder of how close we came to losing ourselves completely.
It’s going to be okay,I tell myself.We’ll fix this. Everything’s going to be okay.
But the thoughts feel hollow in my mind. Even my magic feels uneasy, restless under my skin as the path narrows and twists.
And then, through the shadows, there’s a faint sound of chiseling. Slow, rhythmic taps of stone against stone.
Riven and I exchange a glance, and I know he senses the same thing I do.
We’ve found him.
Together, we step around the final bend of hedges and into a clearing ringed with blossoming cherry trees.
At its center stands a tall, graceful figure, his back turned to us, his wings glowing in the sunlight as he chips away at a statue taking form before him. Even half-finished, the faces of the man and woman already reflect ruin, anguish etched into the unfinished stone.
“Eros,” Riven says calmly, his voice strong despite how tightly he holds my hand.
The god’s chisel pauses mid-strike, his posture stiffening.
Then, slowly, he turns.
“Impossible.” His golden eyes widen as they sweep over us. “No one can enter this place without my permission. The wards make it impenetrable.”
“We’ve become experts at breaking wards lately,” Riven says, frost patterns spreading from his feet.
