Page 18 of Burning Star

Her teeth—sharper now, more defined—sink deeper into my wrist, and the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable down my spine.

She’s taking too much,I realize.Far too much.

And I don’t care.

A weak, breathless laugh slips past my lips. Of course this is how it ends. It was always going to be her teeth in my skin, my life bleeding into her body, my love for her burning me alive.

Darkness creeps into my vision, the edges blurring, the world fading.

I should stop her.

But I don’t. I won’t. Because if I stop her and if it’s not enough—if the life flows out of her again and I’m left on this cosmic floor without her—it will all have been for nothing.

“You’re doing great,” I murmur, dizzy from blood loss, from pleasure, fromher.“It’s yours. All of it’s yours. It’s always been yours.”

My heartbeat slows, pain and pleasure fading into numbness. Darkness calls me, but I’m not afraid. Because it’s peaceful. Like falling asleep after the longest day.

With my last fading strength, I pull her closer, my lips brushing her ear as she continues drinking, desperate and deep, consuming my soul.

Maybe she can.

Maybe she already has.

And somehow, it feels right.

Because this is what love is, isn’t it? A sacrifice. A surrender. A willing, brutal, beautiful destruction.

This is what I was made for.

Not to rule. Not to be a prince. Not to fight in a war that never mattered.

I was made to burn for her. To bleed for her. To shatter completely, offering her every last, broken piece of me.

“If love is destruction,” I murmur, my lips grazing her temple, “then let it destroy me. At least this way, I’ll be part of you forever.”

And as the last threads of my life unravel—as the world tilts into blackness and I fall into her like she’s gravity—I find myself smiling.

Because she’ll live. She’ll save Zoey. She’ll be the incredible, beautiful, star touched warrior she was born to be.

And throughout it all, she’ll carry me with her, always.

SAPPHIRE

Every timeI try to push back to my body, the Tides drag me deeper, tearing my projection apart piece by piece.

And then—something changes.

A warmth touches my consciousness, so familiar it shatters my soul.

Blood.

And not just any blood. It’sRiven’sblood. I’d recognize its scent anywhere—crisp snow and fresh pine.

I love you so much,I think, and then I’m hurtling back into my body, and the world explodes into ice, sharp and electric, racing through my veins and setting every cell on fire.

Riven’s blood isn’t just blood. It’s winter storms and moonlight on frost, a collision of pain and ecstasy that feels like coming home and being shattered apart at once.

It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming. It’severything.

---