14. Sapphire
Sapphire
Another shadow lunges at me, and I react on instinct, thrusting my palm forward and summoning a blast of air.
The gust ripples through the forest, scattering snow and forcing the shadow to retreat.
“Good,” Riven says, slicing through another shadow that veers too close. “But don’t waste your strength on wide attacks. Focus your power. Your magic. Your dagger.”
“I’m trying,” I snap, ducking as another shadow darts at my legs.
Ghost intercepts it, his jaws snapping shut on empty air.
The shadow recoils, reforming behind him.
It all happens so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. Yet, somehow, Riven and I move together as if we’ve been fighting side by side our whole lives, keeping each other safe as the shadows dart in and out of the trees like phantoms in the night.
When the next shadow lunges, I summon tiny orbs of water from the humidity in the air and hurl them at it like bullets.
They strike true, pushing the shadow back, catching it by surprise.
I use the moment of opportunity to launch myself at the shadow and slice through it with my dagger.
Just like that, another dead caribou man appears in the shadow’s place and falls to the ground.
“That’s more like it,” Riven says, sharp with approval.
I glance over my shoulder at him as his sword arcs through the air, frost spreading along the blade as he dispatches another shadow. His movements are precise, calculated, and beautiful—like a dance perfected throughout the decades.
Then, a shadow lunges at his blind spot.
“Behind you!” I shout, but he’s already turning, his blade cutting through the darkness and taking the creature down.
Still, another shadow seizes the opportunity, aiming for his side.
It’s fast.
Too fast .
In less than a second, I’m moving, my air magic carrying me across the snow with a burst of speed. A scream tears from my throat as I throw myself into the shadow’s path, raising my dagger and slashing it through its chest.
It lets out a hollow screech, dissolving into a half-man, half-caribou corpse at my feet, so close that I nearly trip over it.
I’m still centering myself when a shadow lunges from my left, its claws raking across my arm.
Pain explodes through me. It’s hot and sharp, and I stagger back, clutching the wound. It takes everything in me to not lose hold of my dagger.
“Sapphire!” Riven’s voice cuts through the chaos.
“I’m fine!” I shout back, the adrenaline surging through my veins keeping me moving.
Plus, thanks to my supernatural healing, the gash is already starting to close.
Riven takes another shadow down, and the half-caribou corpse slumps to the ground, joining the growing pile of their fallen.
Now, the remaining two shadows circle us, their movements faster and more erratic, as if realizing their numbers are dwindling. The air feels alive with tension, my magic thrumming under my skin as I brace for their next move .
Ghost snarls, shifting his weight from paw to paw, his golden eyes locked on the flickering forms.
“They’re trying to split us up,” Riven says, widening his stance. “Stay by my side.”
I nod, my dagger’s hilt slick with sweat and blood. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The first shadow darts forward and feints toward me. But it pivots at the last moment, heading for Riven instead.
He raises his sword, ready to strike.
I don’t see the second shadow until it’s too late.
It lunges at me from the left, claws outstretched. I can already feel the sharp sting of pain that’s about to follow, bracing for the hit as I realize I don’t have enough time to move out of its way.
Then, suddenly, Riven’s throwing himself in front of me, and the shadow’s claws are raking across his shoulder to his chest, the force of the blow sending him staggering back.
A startling amount of blood sprays out of the wound.
No, I think as I launch myself through the air, driving my dagger into the shadow’s back.
Then, running on adrenaline and instinct, I spin and throw my dagger at the final shadow, using my air magic to guide the blade into the shadow’s chest.
It hits exactly where I aimed.
The shadow screeches in pain, and the final caribou- man corpse thumps to the ground, my dagger landing on the snow beside it.
But I can’t stop yet—not when I’m separated from my weapon. So, I rush forward, snatch up the dagger, and turn to face Riven.
There’s blood on the snow around him, a startingly bright red against the white, but his wounds are nearly healed.
“Are you insane?” I snap at him. “You didn’t have to?—”
“I’m not letting them touch you,” he says fiercely, his eyes locking onto mine. “Not ever. I’d take a hundred hits if it meant keeping you safe.”
The raw emotion in his voice steals the breath from my lungs.
“You could have died,” I say, softer now, the pain tearing at my heart from the thought of it sharper than the claws of the shadows.
Ghost prowls between the fallen bodies of the caribou men, ensuring they’re truly dead.
Which, thankfully, they are.
“We were just attacked by Tariaksuq,” Riven says—as if I needed a reminder. “We both could have died. But we fought them together, and we made a hell of a good team. Although perhaps next time you need to feed, you should drink from me instead. It might be safer than becoming prey while we’re hunting. ”
“No,” I say, taking a step backward. “I’d never do that. Don’t ever ask me to again.”
He tilts his head, studying me, and I suddenly feel like a cell under a microscope.
“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?” he finally asks.
My gaze drops to the snow, shame curling in my chest like a living thing. “In the cave. When we were trapped during the blizzard,” I say, clutching my dagger tightly. “You got cut during training, remember? It had been too long since I fed, and the scent of your blood—it was overwhelming. Intoxicating.”
Riven’s expression shifts as realization dawns in his eyes. “It had been almost three days since you’d last fed. You were starving,” he says, more a statement than a question.
I nod, my voice caught in my throat. “It took everything I had to hold back.”
Suddenly, he’s in front of me, reaching for me, his hand cupping my cheek. “Your strength amazes me,” he says, the tenderness in his touch making my heart ache. “Not just your magic or your fighting skills, but your ability to love so fiercely that it overcomes your darkest instincts.”
When his lips meet mine, it’s gentle—nothing like the kisses we shared in the cave and the igloo. It’s not about passion or urgency. It’s an acknowledgment of the trust between us—of the way we protect each other not just in battle, but in these quiet moments, too.
Ghost’s low growl breaks the moment, reminding us that we’re surrounded by corpses in the middle of a dangerous forest.
When Riven pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “We should keep moving,” he says, although there’s a reluctance in his voice that mirrors my emotions.
“Right. The ancient woman,” I say, forcing myself to focus.
After all, we have a mission to complete, a potion to create, a king’s sanity to restore, and a best friend to rescue.
We can do it.
Because now, we have each other’s backs more than ever.