4. Sapphire
Sapphire
Riven asks Zythara more questions about how to get to the Night Court, which I note as well, given my sudden gift at navigating by the stars. He’s intensely thorough about it, ensuring that whenever we try to find the Night Court, we don’t get lost. He also asks about the rulers of the court, and other questions about how the court operates.
There are a lot of details to keep track of.
“Why were you in the Wandering Wilds?” he eventually asks Zythara.
“I was sent here on an errand,” she replies.
“What kind of errand?”
“The king wanted a winter fae,” she says. “I was heading to the border to find one.”
Riven sucks in a sharp breath, clearly shocked by this information .
“How many winter fae have the night fae taken?” he asks. “And what happens to them when they’re there?”
“I don’t keep count.” She holds his gaze, challenging him to push her further. “But the queen has turned at least twenty since the Harvest Moon. Probably more.”
Horror and rage war in Riven’s eyes.
Did Zythara just shock the Winter Prince speechless?
“What does the Night Court want with winter fae?” I ask, since we’re getting close to hitting our time limit, and we don’t have a second to waste.
“Power,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We no longer want to remain concealed in the shadows, scared that when others learn of our existence, they’ll wipe us out because they fear the unknown. So, given our small numbers compared to the Winter and Summer Courts, we want power. Pure, endless power.”
“Your kind already has both air magic and water magic,” Riven says, and frost crawls up his arms, as if he’s growing restless. “How much more power could you gain?”
“The power of the Revenants.” Zythara raises her chin, as if these Revenants are things to be worshipped and feared. “When Ambrogio regains his full strength, we’ll join the Blood Coven—which we’ve been aligned with for nearly a year—and he’ll turn us into Revenants. ”
“Who’s Ambrogio?” I ask.
“Ambrogio is the key to all of this.” Zythara tilts her head as much as she can in her ice prison, her expression mocking. “He’s the first vampire.”
“The one whose son turned your queen,” Riven says, studying her as he pieces it all together.
“Yes. That one,” she says, and my mind spins, desperate to learn how this all might affect Zoey.
“What will happen to the humans of the Night Court if you all join?—”
A sharp crack interrupts my words, and the ice around Zythara’s body begins to splinter, the magic of our deal reaching its end.
Our hour is up.
My throat tightens with desperation. Because there’s so much more I need to know.
Why do I have the same powers as the night fae? Am I one of them? Am I a descendant of this Ambrogio, too? Could I have been unknowingly turned by him? Or maybe I was too young when it happened to remember? Is this darkness—this insistent hunger—something I can learn to control, or will I be a slave to it forever?
The questions swirl in my mind, and I’m drowning in them, unable to separate them into coherent thoughts.
Not like it matters, since I’ve run out of time to ask.
“Time to fulfill your end of the bargain,” Riven says, pulling out the vial of relaxation potion .
He kneels next to Zythara, uncaps the vial, and holds it to her lips.
She drinks without resistance.
In seconds, her body slackens against the melting ice prison, her eyelids drooping as the potion takes effect.
The silence somehow feels louder than the brutal interrogation session.
Because it’s time to complete the next part of our deal. The part I’ve been dreading.
Feeding from her. Draining her of enough blood to weaken her without killing her.
My gaze travels to her neck, and shame burns through me. Shame at what I am, and at what I have to do to survive.
But most of all, fear that whenever Riven sees me, he’ll see darkness that haunts me instead of the real me he fell in love with.
“Don’t look,” I say, my voice small, unable to meet his eyes. “Please.”
For a moment, there’s only silence.
Then, quietly, he says, “I won’t.”
I give him a small, thankful smile, and he turns away, giving me privacy.
Ghost follows him, as if the snow leopard knows this is something I have to do away from prying eyes, too.
It’s now or never. So, taking a deep breath, I walk toward Zythara, who’s slumped against the cave wall, thanks to the relaxation potion.
The night fae looks disturbingly innocent in sleep. No one would ever know that she agreed to what’s coming next.
Slowly, I kneel next to her and study the place where her pulse beats beneath her pale skin. It calls to the darkness inside me in a way that makes me want to fear myself.
I glance back over at Riven.
He’s turned away, just as I requested.
Just like he promised.
Trusting that he’ll keep his word, I return my focus to Zythara’s neck. I need to do this. For Zoey, for Riven, for everyone back home who likely thinks I’m gone forever, and for myself.
And so, I close my eyes and bite.
Her blood floods my senses, rich and electric, power thrumming through my veins like lightning as her life force rushes through me.
I hate how good it feels. I hate myself for needing it. And I hate doing this horrible thing while the man I love stands off to the side, giving me privacy I’m not sure I deserve.
Somehow—likely thanks to the part of the deal where they specified I won’t drain her completely—I pull back.
Zythara’s breathing is shallow, but she’s still alive. Barely. And the bite mark on her neck is already starting to heal.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to erase the evidence of what I just did. Of what I am.
“It’s done,” I say as I stand, unable to meet Riven’s eyes.
The thought of the disgust waiting for me there makes me want to sink into the ground and disappear.
“Then let’s go,” he says, and he strides toward the cave’s exit, the ice wall melting at his approach.
I follow with Ghost by my side, as if the snow leopard is making sure I’m okay.
At least one of the three of us doesn’t think I’m a monster.
The stars greet us outside, their light both comforting and accusatory. Because thanks to the deal with Riven where I promised I’d do everything in my power to help him make the potion to heal his father’s mind, I can’t ask the stars to take me northwest, to the Night Court—to Zoey. We have to continue on our way to find the ancient woman, who hopefully knows the final ingredients we need for the potion, along with how to brew it.
Riven moves toward Ghost with purpose, his back rigid, his entire demeanor screaming that he doesn’t want me anywhere near him. I can already feel the tension rolling off him in waves at the thought of how close we’ll have to be for the foreseeable future .
Unlike usual, he doesn’t help me onto Ghost’s back. He simply gets on and impatiently waits for me to join.
I shouldn’t have expected anything else.
So, I do it myself.
The moment I’m situated, I wrap my arms around Riven’s waist for balance.
The contact feels more intimate than it should, given the emotional gap between us. But I can’t hold on to nothing. So, he’ll have to deal with me touching him for the time being.
“Don’t fall off,” he says sharply.
“I won’t,” I fire back, and with a low growl from Ghost, we’re off, the leopard’s powerful legs eating up the snow as we race into the darkness.