Page 68 of Burning Star

“He’s not the only one with ice in his veins,” I say, meeting her gaze. “If he tries to kill you again…”

“Then we defend ourselves, like we always do,” she says steadily. “But we came here to help him—not to fight him. You don’t have to lose him when we can still save him.” Her gaze softens, a reminder that she’d follow me to the depths of the cosmos. “You deserve to have your father back.”

I don’t deserve you.

The words are on the tip of my tongue.

But I don’t say them. Because after what we experienced in the temple—after I saw myself through her eyes—maybe I’m deserving of far more than I thought.

“I love you,” I say instead, and it comes out so naturally that it’s impossible to remember a time when it wasn’t true. “More than anything. And you know how badly I want to help my father, but if this court tries to tear us apart…” My grip on my sword tightens. “I’ll bury it in ice before I let them take you from me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She reaches for my free hand, and the ice that was covering the blade melts. “Because I love you, too. And I want you to be happy. So, you’re going to do what you do best—fight smart, stay in control, and win. We both will.”

“Careful,” I say, leaning in close. “You have no idea how hard it is to think straight when you talk to me like that.”

Her lips curve into a soft, knowing smile. “Then focus. Because we’re not done here. Not by a longshot.”

I exhale slowly, dragging my gaze from her mouth back to the looming palace.

“So, Winter Prince…” she says, and my chest aches with longing at the teasing note in her voice. “What’s the plan?”

“We walk in, and we finish this,” I say, steady and sharp as steel. “We save my father from himself, gather our army, and prepare to face the Night Court.”

She goes for the Star Disc, but I catch her wrist, a bolt of frost crackling in the space between us.

“Keep it hidden—but still accessible—for now,” I tell her. “The last thing we need is my father seeing a goddess-forged weapon in your hand before he drinks the potion.”

She nods once, slipping the Disc into the folds of her cloak.

I draw in a breath, steadying myself. “We’ll walk in with deference—not defiance,” I continue. “I’ll invoke protocol. We’ll show him the potion. We’ll offer it as a gift from the Summer Court. A gesture of alliance—not a threat of rebellion.”

Her brow creases. “You think he’ll buy that?”

“No,” I admit. “His paranoia will tear at him, but if he lashes out and we don’t strike back, he might listen. We’ll obviously defend ourselves if it comes to it, but we’ll also let him see that we’re strong, united, and his to command if he accepts our help.”

“And if he doesn’t accept our help?” she asks.

I meet her gaze, frost curling at my fingertips.

“Then we’ll show him there’s more than one way to secure a crown.”

We stand there for a beat, the weight of what’s coming pressing down so heavily that even the snow beneath my boots feels fragile.

Sapphire exhales slowly and reaches for her dagger. “All right,” she says. “Let’s do this.”

The moment the words leave her lips, Ghost moves to my left and Nebula moves to Sapphire’s right, both familiars eerily silent, their bodies tense and alert.

We slip around the side of the palace until the main gates loom—towering pillars of ice and steel, with a small army of soldiers who once obeyed me without question stationed there.

“They’ve doubled security since we left,” I say softly, glancing at Sapphire. “Stay close.”

Her water magic swirls in response to my frost, our powers intertwining in the space between us.

As we approach, I recognize one of my father’s most loyal soldiers—Valerian. His beard is white with frost, his eyes narrowing as he takes in our approach.

“My Lord Prince,” he says, carefully neutral. “We received word of your... departure from the Winter Court. Your return is unexpected.”

“I’m sure it is,” I reply, keeping my voice level despite the ice forming at my fingertips. “We require an immediate audience with the king.”

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