Page 20 of Broken Star

I wish I could speak to him. To tell him that I love him as much as I know he loves me. To apologize for my hateful vows.

But here, surrounded by our element—this is real. This is everything we lost, and everything we found.

I can tell he understands from the way his hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that makes tears spring to my eyes.

Riven and I love each other. And nothing—not a dryad’s bargain, not Eros’s lead arrow, not even our own broken hearts—can change that fundamental truth.

But all of that’s in the past. Because somehow, this sacred, ancient pool cut through every spell, every barrier, and every lie we’ve told ourselves.

Our love will strengthen and endure—now more than ever—no matter what.

Riven is mine, and I’m his. Always.

And so, with one final encouraging, relieved, heartfelt look, we pull each other to the surface, breaking through at the same time.

My head emerges, and everything shatters.

The warmth, the clarity, the truth… it’s gone. Ripped away in a heartbeat, leaving only red-hot pain in its wake.

And as Riven looks at me with those cold, soulless eyes of his, I swear to every god in the Universe that I’ll never let him get that close to me ever again.

Sapphire

Riven steps outof the water first, the water dripping down his chest following the sharp lines of muscle that I refuse to acknowledge I’m staring at.

His clothes stick to him as he pulls them on, making the simple act of dressing far more difficult than it needs to be.

Thanks to his affinity being ice instead of liquid water, he can’t dry himself. A handful of gifted winter fae can breathe underwater, but controlling it is a different skill entirely. Which means he’ll stay wet.

As he should.

He’s certainly getting no help from me. That would involve touching him, and that’s something I will never willingly do again.

Although, as I push myself out of the water, reach for my magic, and dry myself off, I’m not sure what just happened between us. Lysandra told us to go under the surface and kiss, and I remember submerging myself.

But after that? I’m sure wedidkiss, but the details are already escaping me.

Apparently, it was bad enough that my mind locked it away into the deepest corners of my thoughts.

“You know,” Riven says, his voice dipping into that dangerous, teasing tone that threatens to break me if I listen too closely, “for someone who claims to hate me, you certainly seem to be enjoying the view.”

Heat rushes up my neck, searing and infuriating, but I lock my expression into something carefully neutral.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, sharp as steel. “I’m just appreciating how pathetic you look right now.”

He drags a hand through his soaked hair, water sliding down his face, over his jaw, and along the edge of his throat.

My body warms, and I internally curse him for being so irresistibly gorgeous.

“That’s an interesting way to say, ‘devastatingly attractive even while dripping wet,’” he finally says, watching me the entire time.

I narrow my eyes, hating how easily he twists my words.

He knows exactly what buttons to push, and heenjoysit. Even worse, the way he’s smirking at me makes it clear that he can see how painfully hard it is for me to resist.

We’re in the process of giving each other death stares when Lysandra’s musical laughter echoes through the chamber.

“You two continue to delight me with your… enthusiasm,” she says. “Wasting no time on embracing the most time-honored tradition of marriage—driving each other to madness. Just imagine how spectacularly insufferable you’ll be a few centuries from now.”

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