Page 64 of Golden Star

The moment I’m free, Zoey’s right there, pulling me onto the ice.

“Saph!” she cries. “Did you get it?”

I open my mouth to answer, but instead of words, all that comes out is a rough, choking cough.

Water—freezing and thick—spills from my lips.

She pulls me closer, her arms trembling as she helps me sit up. “Get it out,” she says softly, gently. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

I hope so. Because right now, my lungs are trying to claw their way out of my body, rejecting the water that’s still trapped inside. Each cough tears through me likeshards of ice.

Finally, with one last agonizing heave, I get out the last of the water.

The pain lingers—sharp and deep—but I can breathe again.

I’m alive.

I slump back onto the ice, exhausted, the key clutched in my fist. “I’m okay,” I rasp between shallow breaths. “And I did it. I got the key.”

I open my hand and show it to her.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

Now that it’s no longer glowing, I can see that it’s not simple, like I first thought. Up close, it’s intricate—delicate patterns etched along the length of it, shimmering in the dim winter light.

“We can admire it later,” I tell her. “Right now, let’s get off this lake.”

“There’s nothing in this world I want more than to get off the lake,” she says, and together we half-stumble, half-run to the shore where Riven’s waiting with his knights.

My lungs are still adjusting to breathing air instead of water, but the weight of the key in my hand feels like victory.

As soon as I’m off the ice, Ghost prowls toward me and sniffs, as if checking to see if I’m okay.

I reach out to pet his head.

“Watch out,” Riven warns. “He bites. Although, perhaps it could be more fun to watch your next trial if you’re missing a hand…”

I pull my arm back to my side, although if there’s one thing I know for sure—Ghost would never harm me.

He knows it, too. But the knights don’t. And we need to keep up appearances.

“Start a fire. They’ll freeze to death before the next trial if we don’t warm them up,” Riven tells the knights, and they spring into action, gathering wood and igniting it with practiced efficiency.

“How do they know how to do that so well?” I ask Riven, since I assume ice fae don’t ever need to warm up.

“You’re not the only summer fae we’ve ever kept hostage,” he says coldly, and within moments, the crackling of flames fills the air, the warmth licking at my frozen skin as I edge closer.

Zoey does the same, the fire bringing color back to her cheeks.

As I warm up, I steal another glance at Riven.

He’s sitting on the other side of the fire, watching me with that unreadable look of his.

His words from earlier echo in my mind—his story about his mother, and the way he guided me through the trial without making it obvious, like a secret between just the two of us. He helped me stay alive.

And the way he talked about his mom… it was with such unexpected vulnerability. A warmth beneath all that ice.

“Don’t look too proud of yourself, Summer Fae,” he says, snapping me back into reality. “The lake was a warm up. It’ll look like a leisurely swim compared to the next trial.”

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