Page 12 of Broken Star

“And I,” she continues, “have declared that the duskberry will only be given to you upon the binding of your alliance. Which means, by the terms of your own agreement, you must now decide—marry Riven, or die breaking your word.”

“That’s not a fair choice.” Magic surges inside me, and wind explodes outward, knocking a particularly large goblet off a side table.

Lysandra doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even blink.

“Power demands sacrifice,” she says simply. “Plus, the Winter Prince is far from hard on the eyes. And the two of you do seem to… enjoy each other.”

Riven gives her an appreciative smile, then focuses on me. “I know you hate it,” he murmurs, “but she has a point.”

I turn on him so quickly that my hair whips across my face. “I would rather rip my own heart out than marry you.”

“Given that you’re half vampire, that would probably be messy,” he muses, slow, dark, and unbothered. “Not to mention dramatic.”

“Dramatic,” I repeat, clenching my fists as another wave of fury rushes through me. “I can show youdramatic.”

Before either of them can respond, I close my eyes and project across the room.

My physical body collapses to the floor.

Lysandra’s eyes go wide as she looks from my body, to where I’m standing across the room in my astral form, then back to my body. “What—” she starts, but Riven’s already moving, dropping to his knees beside my body, checking for injuries.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap at him from my astral form.

His jaw tightens, but he leans back slightly.

Lysandra focuses on me—the me in my astral form—her amusement returning. “Now that,” she says slowly, “is interesting. How did you do it?”

“I’m star touched,” I tell her, since that was the major thing Riven and I purposefully withheld when we told her everything else. “Blessed by Celeste. The star goddess.”

I can practically see Lysandra’s mind working, processing this new information.

And then, as I’m learning she tends to do, she smiles. “I’d expect nothing less of my daughter than to be chosen as one of the gifted four,” she finally says.

Something likepridesurges through me at having impressed the Summer Queen.

But right now, I need to focus on making my point—making sure she knows I’m notsomeone she should be messing with.

“I’m impenetrable in this form,” I tell her, determination coursing through my veins when I turn back to Riven. “Show her. Run your blade through me. Like you did in your quarters when you thought you could kill the projected version of me.”

He stiffens. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“You wouldn’t have cared if it was.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, he rushes toward me in a blink and strikes.

There’s no pain. No impact. Just the strange sensation of steel passing through where I should be standing.

“Satisfied?” he asks, smirking as he twirls his weapon around. “No need to respond—that was rhetorical. I know how much you enjoy it when I penetrate you with my sword.”

Before I can think, my dagger’s in motion, slicing a clean, perfect line across his forearm.

He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even glance down at the blood seeping out of the cut, rich and dark against his skin.

Because he’s looking at me. Watching me with a look that makes me unsure if he’s going to kiss me or strangle me.

And then, the scent hits me.

A rush of hunger, violent and all-consuming, slamming into me like a storm. But it’s not just hunger clawing through my veins. It’swant.Pure, overwhelming desire as memories of Riven—his mouth on mine, his hands gripping my body, the way he held me in a way no one else ever has—crash over me like a wave.

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