Page 69 of Burning Star

Valerian’s jaw tightens, and he glances uneasily at the five guards beside him. “There are specific orders regarding your return, my lord,” he says, inching a hand toward the hilt of his sword.

He’s welcome to try, but he should know better than to attack. After all, he knows what I was before I left—cold, calculated, and deadly. As for now… the extent of the magic I have with my soul bound to Sapphire’s would terrify him.

“We invoke royal protocol to have an audience with King Nivian,” I say, letting the ice in my tone match the frost curling around my boots. “Stand aside, Captain.”

Ghost lets out a low growl, the sound vibrating through the frozen air. Beside him, Nebula’s muscles tense, her golden coat almost glowing against the snow.

Valerian’s gaze flicks to my sword, to Ghost, to Sapphire, then back at me, calculating his odds. “And the escaped summer fae?” he asks. “The one who you were supposed to havekilledin your trials? Along with her…” He trails off, glancing at Nebula. “Summer familiar?”

“The Summer Princess ismy wife,”I state, lifting my chin. “Now, if you have any sense of self preservation, you’ll let us pass.”

Fear crosses Valerian’s eyes as he looks back and forth between me and Sapphire. The other guards straighten, not daring to meet our gazes, their breath crystallizing in the air.

Finally, he steps back, his jaw clenched.

“I’m sure the king will be interested to hear of this recent development,” he says, and then he and the others escort us past the gates, through the halls of the palace, and into the throne room.

RIVEN

The throne roomis colder than I remember.

Ice crusts the massive pillars in jagged formations that weren’t there when I left, and the frost on the marble floor creeps up the walls like climbing vines. Icicles hang from the chandelier overhead, beautiful in their deadliness, and the windows are covered with frost.

The air hums with madness. Corruption.

Dread curls through my stomach at the memory of the older version of myself—the Lonely King—creating frost patterns along those same windowpanes. My first meeting with Ghost, the wedding kiss in the water with Sapphire, and my sword impaling the mysterious night fae.

I will not become the Lonely King. Whatever happens in the confrontation with my father, I will not take his crown.

Valerian positions his guards at the entrance, while four more emerge from the shadows to line the perimeter. They stand at attention, although their eyes dart between Sapphire and me, waiting for the slightest excuse to attack.

“Stay alert,” I murmur to Sapphire. “Judging from the state of the throne room, my father’s mind is fracturing faster than the court dares to admit.”

She nods, her water magic humming beneath the surface.

Ghost and Nebula move closer to our sides, their muscles coiled and ready.

Finally, the doors at the far end of the hall crack open, and my father strides in. His long, leopard fur cloak trails behind him, and a crown of ice glistens atop his dark, silver-streaked hair. His eyes—wild, glacial, and sharp—lock onto mine with a fury I haven’t seen since the day he told me my mother was gone.

Magic ripples from him in waves, the temperature in the room plummeting further.

“So,” he says, his voice a deadly whisper that carries across the room, “the traitor prince returns—with the Summer spy who should have died by his hand.”

I step forward, placing myself slightly in front of Sapphire. “Father?—”

“Silence!” he roars, and spears of ice erupt from the floor around him. “You dare call me father? After what you’ve done?”

The guards tense, hands moving to their weapons.

“You murdered my knights,” my father continues, each word accompanied by another spike of ice shooting from the floor. “You fled the court with a condemned traitor. You abandoned your duties, your throne, and your blood.” His eyes narrow to slits. “You are no son of mine.”

I stand steady—as I’ve always done—not letting him see how much every word shakes my soul.

“We’re here to help you,” I say, keeping my voice measured despite the frost threatening to spiral out of my fingertips.

A bitter laugh escapes him. “Help me? By bringing the Summer Court’s assassin into my throne room?”

His attention snaps to Sapphire, and he hurls a dagger at her heart.

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