Page 22 of Broken Star

“Because this war is larger than you. Larger thanhim.”She glances at Riven, then turns her focus back to me. “And because whether you wish to accept it or not, you’re my daughter, and I will not see you fail.”

The weight of her words settles over me, but I refuse to let myself react to them. Not here. Not now. Not when we’re so close to finishing this.

“That’s very… generous of you,” I say, although I’m far from convinced that there isn’t something she wants.

She, however, doesn’t elaborate, instead simply gesturing to the ingredients laid out in front of an intricately crafted gold chalice.

“Shall we begin?” she asks, and I force myself to focus on the task at hand instead of the doubt churning in my stomach.

She takes me through what to do step by step, and soon, I fall into the soothing pattern of brewing the potion.

“You’re a natural with this,” she notes as I follow her instructions, and I don’t know if it’s a compliment or an observation.

“I’ve only done it once before,” I say, keeping my focus on the potion, powering through the instinct to glance at Riven as I work.

Lysandra makes it easier by continuing to talk to me.

“Magic is written into your blood,” she says, motioning for me to add the flowers I just crushed into the chalice. “Brewing potions requires more than knowledge—it requires a willingness to listen to what the magic asks of you. To letting it to becomepartof you.”

I press my lips together, but I don’t argue. Because I can feel the way the potion stirs beneath my touch, responding as if it recognizes something in my soul.

It’s the same way I alwaysknewhow to make drinks when I worked at the Maple Pig.

As I think about the Maple Pig, I can’t help but glance at Riven.

I immediately regret it.

Because he’s watching me with the same fascination he did on our first meeting at the bar, when I mixed him that pink drink and placed it in front of him.

Back then, I thought his interest was genuine curiosity. Maybe even attraction.

Now, I know better.

Because he was studying me. Analyzing my every move, looking for ways to twist my talent into something that served him. Just like he’s doing now. Making sure hisassetis still worth the investment.

I narrow my eyes at him, force myself to break his gaze, and let everything other than the potion in front of me fade away, like I always did while mixing drinks.

Eventually, I’m done.

And when I take a step back, Lysandra lifts the dagger from the table, slices her palm, and adds the final touch—her blood.

Sapphire

“The potion is complete,”Lysandra announces, satisfaction clear in her eyes as she examines it.

As she speaks, something in my soul warms.

The ice magic that bound me to my promise to Riven is dissolving. And for the first time since we made the deal, I can breathe without its cold weight pressing against my chest.

“You feel it, too?” Riven murmurs, somehow having gotten closer to me in the past few seconds.

“If you’re referring to my urge to push you into the pool, then yes, I feel it,” I tell him, giving him an obviously fake smile. “And the best part? Now I can do whatever I want to you without being frozen to death as a punishment.”

A slow, infuriating smirk crosses his lips.

“Care to elaborate on thesethingsyou want to do to me?” he presses, and the only reason I’m able to stop my wind magic from rushing through the cave is because I can’t risk knocking the potion off the table and destroying everything we worked for.

“I could poison your next drink,” I muse, since it’s a solid second option. Not to do anything as dramatic as kill him, but definitely to hurt him. To make him feel somethingother than indifference and the desire to break me.

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