Page 54 of Burning Star

Frost crawls up my arms.

“You’re talking about me,” I say, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “After all, destruction follows me everywhere.”

“You carry both ice and shadow, Winter Prince,” Anteros says with an amused smile. “But that’s not the whole of it.”

“No. It’s not.” I reach for Sapphire’s hand, letting her warmth melt my ice. “Because without her, I’mnotwhole.”

“And yet, the two of you were tethered together in light,” the god says cryptically, glancing at where Sapphire’s fingers are entwined with mine. “With a warmth that ignites your souls.”

“So, we’re the golden standard. That’s comforting,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure that whoever you’re talking about now will be thrilled to know they won’t be as lucky.”

Water swirls at Sapphire’s feet, her focus locked on Anteros, as if she can read his mind if she stares at him hard enough.

“Who elseareyou talking about?” she asks him.

He regards us both for a long moment.

Then, finally, he speaks.

“Sometimes, the ones who fall end up there by choice,” he says, as if another cryptic message should clear up the rest.

Sapphire’s breath catches. “And other times?”

“Other times,” the god says, “they fall because they believe there’s no other way.”

The temperature in the chamber lowers, and Sapphire presses closer to me.

I circle an arm around her shoulders, wishing I could shield her from Anteros’s hinted truths.

“Is it someone we know?” she asks softly.

The god’s golden light continues to fade. “When the time comes, all will become clear,” he says, and then the temple’s nearly dissolved, leaving more questions than answers.

“Anteros!” Sapphire tries one last time, but it’s too late.

His form vanishes in a rain of light, the remnants of his power dispersing into the air.

Her magic reaches for me—seeking comfort—and I pull her close, crushing my lips to hers, my frost wrapping around her like a shield. This isn’t just desire and passion. It’s devotion and promise. The kind of promise I never thought I’d be capable of making—to love her with every broken piece of myself that she sees clearly, yet somehow loves anyway.

When we break apart, we’re standing in the forest of the Winter Court, behind the palace, just before sunrise. Our cosmic formalwear has transformed into an ice-blue tunic embroidered with silver thread for me, and a blue velvet gown for her. She looks devastatingly beautiful in it, as she does in anything she wears.

Ghost and Nebula are at our sides, their bodies glowing with remnants of the temple’s magic.

Nebula rubs her head against Sapphire’s leg, purring in reassurance.

Ghost stands next to me, as steadfast as ever.

“Well,” Sapphire says, breathless, her fingers still clutching my shirt. “That was intense.”

“The temple trial, or the kiss?” I ask, unable to stop my lips from curving into a smirk.

“Both, you insufferable prince.” She presses her palms against my chest and rolls her eyes, but there’s warmth there—forme.

I laugh, the sound freer than it’s been in decades. “And you love me for it,” I say, knowing now more than ever that it’s true.

Ghost nudges my leg, reminding me that we have more pressing matters than kissing my soulmate—although I’m inclined to disagree on the order of priorities.

Nebula offers a quiet growl in solidarity, earning a fond laugh from Sapphire.

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