Page 50 of Burning Star

The weight of his words crashes into me, my magic stirring anxiously beneath my skin.

“Here, there are no masks. No defenses,” Anteros continues. “There’s only truth. And if you accept each other’s truths fully—the good and the broken, the pain and the beauty—the Reflection will become light, and that light will flow into the altar’s heartstones. Then—andonlythen—will Ghost and Nebula awaken.”

SAPPHIRE

Anteros happily declaresthat I’m going first.

One moment I’m gazing at my face in the pool’s reflection, and then Riven’s sharp, beautiful features appear, his silver eyes intense as always. Our images dance and blur, merging and separating as if the water can’t decide who we are—or if we’re even two separate people at all.

Anteros moves to stand behind us, his golden wings casting shadows across the chamber. “Remember,” he says softly, “what you see isn’t just truth—it’s vulnerability. You’ve already physically and emotionally given yourselves to each other and accepted each other. The question now is—can you love and accept the version of you that the other sees?”

“I’m not afraid,” I tell Anteros, but my racing heart suggests otherwise.

The god smiles knowingly, a gentle but challenging curve of his lips. “You should be,” he replies. “There’s no greater courage than searching deep within yourself—acknowledging every strength, facing every flaw, and still believing you’re worthy of unconditional love. Especially when the love you seek is your own.”

Riven’s hand finds mine, his cool fingers threading through my warmth, tightening until our palms lock together.

“I love you,” he tells me, the truth of it shining deep in his eyes. “No matter what you see, know this—I will always love you. Every single piece of you.”

“And I love you,” I say, tightening my grip. “Nothing I see here will ever change that.”

Anteros presses his fingertips thoughtfully together. “Beautiful words,” he says with a tilt of his head. “But love is easily spoken. Now, let’s find out if you can truly love yourself—as your beloved sees you.”

Something about his quiet challenge chills me, fear soaking into my bones. Yet slowly, I lower myself to the stone, my knees pressing onto the cold floor, my breath tight in my chest.

Riven lowers himself beside me. His shoulder brushes mine, and that simple contact sends a tremor through my body, reminding me I’m not alone.

I barely have a chance to steady my breathing before the surface of the pool shatters into swirling chaos. Colors and shapes spin wildly, a kaleidoscope of uncertainty.

Then, suddenly, the mirror stills, and I’m seeing myself through Riven’s eyes.

It’s dizzying. Disorienting. I’m inside his perception and outside my body all at once.

The first thing that strikes me is the light. Because in his eyes, I shine. Not only with magic, but with something fierce and undeniable, fueled by determination and strength.

And then the emotions flood me, overwhelming in their intensity.

His pride hits first. The way he watched me stand against the Stalo, refusing to back down. The admiration when I faced his father in the Winter Court, chin raised in defiance. The awe when I dove into the frozen lake for the key, my determination stronger than my fear.

Through his eyes, I see myself climbing onto the bridge during the trials, moving forward despite the fear of falling. I see myself in the forest during the hunt, refusing to give up even when all seemed lost.

He’s always seen me as brave. Even when I was terrified, even when I was breaking inside, he saw courage and light.

“Is this really how you see me?” I whisper, water droplets rising around us, reflecting tiny rainbows in the temple’s light.

As if in response, the reflection shifts, showing me through his eyes when I was healing Zoey, my hands steady, my focus unwavering. He saw brilliance where I saw necessity. He saw skill where I saw instinct.

I see myself astral projecting to the Midnight Star, commanding the currents of the Cosmic Tides, and carving our bond into his palm with the Star Disc.

But it’s not all strength and fire he sees.

He sees my gentleness, too. The way I care for Zoey, and the kindness I show even to those who hurt me. He loves my humor, the brightness in my laughter, and the sparkle in my eyes when I tease him.

He also sees my flaws. My stubbornness, my impulsiveness, and my occasional recklessness. But in his eyes, these aren’t weaknesses. They’re just... me. Essential parts of who I am, pieces he wouldn’t change, even if he could.

“You love all of me,” I say, my voice catching. “Not just the good parts. Not just the heroic parts. All of it.”

The reflection shifts again, vivid and intense. I see myself diving into his dying body, forcing my soul into his, unwilling to let him slip away. I see the sheer force of my refusal to surrender—my conviction that death itself could never part us.

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