Page 52 of Broken Star

She’s watching me carefully, like this is some kind of test.

I can’t fail it. I don’t know why, but I feel like my safety here might depend on it.

“Yes,” I agree with her, and her lips curve slightly, as if I’ve passed. “Someone should clean this up.”

Then, I turn on my heel and head out of the courtyard with measured steps, passing Victoria and Sophia as I do.

“I hope you enjoy breakfast with Aerix,” I tell Victoria, hurrying away before she can reply.

I don’t look back at Matt’s body.

I can’t.

All I can do it walk into my suite, enter my room, and cross to where my painting hangs—the one Aerix altered—focusing on where he signed his name with a flourish at the bottom corner.

My fingers trace his signature, studying each curve and slash of the letters. The way his capital A swoops gracefully, missing that tiny curl from the note. How his lowercase T’s cross with a gentler line.

Aerix didn’t write that note.

Which means someone else is watching over me. Someone powerful enough to kill without consequence. Someone who wants to make sure everyone knows I’m protected.

The question is… who?

Sapphire

Three daysof sailing through star-lit waters have left me hollow with hunger.

The vegetarian food helps, but it’s like trying to satisfy a wolf with grass. My body knows what it really needs, and it’s angry about not getting it. And, to make it worse, the thirst is stronger in the mortal realm than in the mystical realm.

I’ve been avoiding Riven as much as possible. Keeping my distance. Keeping my sanity. But it doesn’t stop the way my fangs ache when he’s near, and the way my breath catches on his scent, crisp and cold, like the first bite of winter.

But I shake my head sharply, forcing myself to focus on what matters—the Algol Star.We’re almost directly beneath it, and my magic shifts restlessly beneath my skin, responding to the energy radiating from above.

Finally, after midnight, the island we’re searching for emerges like a dream from the endless water.

Cliffs rise from the sea, their jagged edges softened by moonlight. The shoreline curves like a crescent, the sand glowing white beneath the star-strewn sky. Towering trees, their leaves an impossible shade of emerald, sway gently in the breeze, and the air carries the scent of honey and smoke.

We’re here. Finally.

Time to get Riven.

I take a slow breath, brace myself, and head to the cabin door, hesitating before pushing it open.

He’s asleep, sprawled on the bed, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.

I stand there for a moment, studying him. The sharp lines of his cheekbones, the dark sweep of his lashes, the tousled black hair that always looks like he just ran a hand through it. Even in sleep, there’s a quiet intensity to him—a coiled stillness, like a predator at rest.

And his scent—ice, pine, and something darker—is everywhere.

My pulse spikes as the hunger crashes into me again. It’s stronger than it was a few hours ago when he went to sleep, and there he is, bound to be more than receptive to the wakeup call of my mouth on his neck…

No,I think as I dig my nails into my palms, hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks on my skin.

I won’t let the hunger control me. I won’t give in.

“Riven,” I say, forcing myself to focus. “Wake up.”

His body tenses before his eyes open, silver and sharp, even in the dim light. For a fraction of a second, he just looks at me, his expression unreadable. Then, he blinks and stretches lazily—too lazily, like he’s deliberately drawing my attention to the way his muscles shift beneath his shirt—and sits up.

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