Page 46 of Burning Star

“It’s beautiful,” I say, staring up at it in awe.

Riven’s arm tightens around me, frost rippling across the ship’s deck.

“The Lost Fae Temple. I thought this place was only a myth,” he says, studying it as he continues to explain. “The legend is that this temple was built long ago, before the courts divided. When Winter and Summer were one.”

I tear my gaze from the temple long enough to glance at him.

He looks… awestruck.

“You’ve never seen it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No one has. It was sealed away. Lost. Until now.”

We’re both silent for a few minutes as the ship glides forward, heading for the island where the temple hums with a deep, ancient magic that presses into my skin and curls around my bones.

“Do you feel that?” I ask Riven.

He swallows hard, his eyes meeting mine in quiet intensity. “Yes.”

The ship slows as it nears the dock, stopping when it reaches it, the gangplank lowering on its own.

“Ready?” Riven asks, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

I draw my dagger, its weight steadying my racing heart. “Ready.”

Side by side, we step onto the path leading up to the temple, magic thickening with every heartbeat. Frost blooms under Riven’s steps, while flowers unfurl beneath mine, as if the temple is recognizing and greeting us individually.

As I walk, my clothes dissolve into silver mist, weaving themselves into a gown that’s not fabric, but starlight. Sapphires gleam along the bodice and cascade down the front in delicate chains, and the corset hugs my waist, the skirt flowing in layers that sparkle like starlight.

And I’m not the only one experiencing a cosmic makeover.

Because Riven, who I’ve seen more than once in princely clothing, is now beyond regal. He’sotherworldly—strikingly fierce, achingly beautiful, and utterly mesmerizing.

A fitted dark jacket wraps around his frame, embroidered with silver threads in patterns that accentuate every powerful line of his body. The collar dips to reveal the sculpted lines of his chest, his skin kissed by frost. And around his neck rests a silver chain inset with sapphires to match my gown—two pieces of the same design, as if the temple crafted them just for us.

“How is this even real?” I sheathe my dagger, my fingers brushing the sparkling fabric of my gown.

“How areyoueven real?” he counters, earning a smile from me as he sheathes his sword and reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.

“Maybe I’m not,” I tease, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe this is all a beautiful dream, and we’ll wake up any moment.”

Tension radiates between us in waves, and despite the temple before us, Riven is all I can see, feel, or care about.

“If this is just a dream,” he says, slowly and carefully, “then it’s the cruelest, most beautiful one I’ve ever had.”

“Then trust this,” I say, pressing our carved palms together, aligning the marks etched into our skin. “Because dreams fade, but we made sure this will last.”

We linger quietly, savoring the warmth of our joined hands, feeling the promise we’ve carved into our skin. But eventually, Riven breaks the silence with gentle amusement.

“If we stand here staring into each other’s eyes for much longer,” he murmurs affectionately, “the temple might start feeling ignored.”

“We wouldn’t want to offend an ancient temple,” I reply, holding back a smile. “Especially one generous enough to dress us like royalty.”

“Generous?” He arches a brow. “It’s only doing its duty. Because youareroyalty, Princess. Temples, magic gowns—all of it.”

“Right. Royalty,” I say, lightly teasing. “Give me another few years—maybe I’ll finally feel like I deserve the title.”

“You deserve every beautiful, impossible thing the universe can dream up,” he says fiercely, stepping closer. “And I’ll fight until my last breath to give it to you.”

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