Page 26 of Broken Star

Riven doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he closes the pack, and the silence stretches long enough that I almost think he’s finished with the conversation.

Then, finally, he speaks.

“I don’t remember, either,” he says, and he slings the pack over his shoulder, seemingly relieved that I also have no idea what happened in that water.

The hairs rise on my arms, the water in the small fountain by the window moving faster as every nerve in my body goes on edge.

“Did youdosomething to me?” I ask him, moving closer, even though each step feels like I’m stepping on shattered glass.

He stays put, pinning me down with that intense gaze of his that makes me feel like if I move, I’ll break.

“Trust me, Princess,” he says, and frost creeps along his fingertips, like some sort of threat. “If Ididsomething to you, you’d have woken up in my arms—not across the room with a dagger in your hand.”

The memories that cut through my mind at his comment aretoo much.

So, I tear my gaze away from his, pushing down the thoughts of all the times Ididwake up in his arms. Back when I thought his touch meant something. Back when I believed his lies. Back when I believed I washis.

I’m yanked out of the flashbacks when our chamber walls dissolve into mist, replaced by plain gray stone in an empty room with a radiator unit under the window that says,please no sitting.The air’s heavy with the promise of rain, and dark clouds are blocking any hint of starlight.

I’ve never been here before—I’d never left Maine before a few weeks ago—but Riven told me last night that when we returned to the mortal realm, we’d be in Belvedere Castle in Central Park.

“We should go,” Riven says, all business again. “Before the humans arrive.”

We make our way down to the ground floor, and the moment we step outside, a figure emerges from the shadows. A girl wearing a hooded cloak, maybe a few years older than me, moving with precise, measured steps. As if she’s been waiting here for us, ready to strike.

My dagger’s out in a flash, my magic at my fingertips, a breeze already stirring in the damp, heavy air.

Riven’s equally as prepared with his sword, frost crawling along the blade.

The girl, however, doesn’t flinch.

“Those weapons won’t be enough,” she says without introduction, her eyes fixed on me with unnerving intensity. “Neither will the contents of your pack. But luckily for you, I’m here to advise you on what’s coming next. And trust me—you’re going to be very, very grateful for my help.”

Sapphire

“Who are you?”I say to the cloaked girl, my grip firm on my dagger, water droplets rising in the wind as my magic responds to the threat.

She pushes back her hood, revealing dark curls streaked with gold, and bright green eyes that catch nonexistent light. But what unsettles me most is her composure—she’s staring down two powerful, armed fae without a hint of fear.

“Names aren’t important right now.” She glances at the sky before returning to me. “Time is.”

Riven steps closer, the temperature around us dropping by a few degrees. “You’re standing in front of two armed fae,” he says the same thing I was thinking. “You should be more concerned with surviving than making demands.”

The girl doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink.

“If either of you were going to attack me, you would have done so already,” she says, speaking with the certainty of someone who’s seen this conversation play out before.

Riven tenses as he analyzes her, searching for a weakness, a lie in her stance.

But even as frost climbs up his blade, the girl is unfazed. Unreadable. Clearly not human, but not quite fae, either.

But I make no moves—not to kill her, and not to lower my weapon.

Instead, I glance at Riven. Because despite how much I hate him, he’s the one who’s experienced with this whole “navigating through the supernatural realms” thing.

He simply nods, keeping his gaze fixed on the girl, making it clear that if she makes one wrong move, she’ll be a beheaded popsicle.

She makes no sudden moves.

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