Midnight Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #3)

30. Sapphire

Sapphire

The roots are everywhere.

Even if I had my dagger, I’d have no chance.

Still, I look around, trying to figure something out. There has to be a gap somewhere. A place where I can use my air magic to pull Riven and me out of the roots and drop us off so we can hightail it out of here and brainstorm another way to get the sap.

“Sapphire!” Riven’s voice is sharp and commanding, startling me enough to stop searching for an escape. “Look at your body.”

I glance down.

“Your real body,” he corrects, rolling his eyes even though he’s currently entangled in roots.

“Right.” I chuckle and look over to my unconscious body across from him .

The roots coiled around it are shifting, their grip softening.

“They’re responding to resistance,” he says. “The more we fight?—”

“The harder they fight back,” I finish as another root shoots through my projected form, the sensation bizarre and disorienting.

“Return to your body,” he says. “Now.”

“But you’re still trapped?—“

“And getting more trapped by the second because you’re still fighting.”

He forces himself to relax, and the roots around my unconscious body continue to loosen, too.

He’s right. Our struggle is only making things worse.

So, I take a deep breath and snap back into my body.

Returning is always jarring, but this time it’s accompanied by the strange warmth of the roots around me. They’re still holding me in place, but their grip is almost curious now. Like they’re studying me rather than trying to crush me.

I tense up, trying to wiggle free.

The roots tighten their grip, squishing me, threatening to shatter my bones.

“Sapphire,” Riven says calmly. “I love you, but if you don’t relax, this tree is going to crush us before I kiss you again. And that’s not the tragic ending I signed up for.”

Those three words when they come from him—I love you—are always enough to make me melt. Especially when they’re said in the same sentence as kissing him.

Now, they help me relax, and I steady my breathing, letting the tension drain from my limbs.

The roots stop thrashing. And then, slowly, they lower me down. A glance at Riven shows that he’s being lowered, too.

But the tree doesn’t release us. Sure, my feet are planted firmly on the ground, and I can breathe again, but the roots are still a cage around me, threatening to break me if I try anything against them.

I stay as still as possible, not wanting to make any sudden moves.

In the silence, the tree creaks, its trunk shifting as a someone steps out from the bark, as if emerging from another world. She’s tall and slender, her skin the color of rich wood, with moss and vines cascading from her shoulders like a living cloak.

Her glowing green eyes sweep over us, an unsettling combination of curiosity and authority in her gaze.

“I am Chryserra, a dryad of this sacred grove. This tree is my flesh and blood.” Her eyes narrow, glittering with amusement as they sweep over me and Riven. “And you’ve come for its sap.”

“The sap is crucial for saving lives,” Riven says steadily. “We had no intention of harming you or your tree. ”

The roots holding me tighten, their rough texture biting into my skin.

The dryad, however, remains focused on Riven.

“What’s a winter fae doing in the Summer Court?” she asks him.

“I’m the winter prince,” he corrects her. “And the sap in your tree won’t just save lives in the Winter Court, but for the Summer Court as well.”

She doesn’t answer him. Instead, her gaze turns to me, studying me so intensely that I nearly squirm.

“And you,” she says. “You look familiar. Have I seen you before?”

“No,” I say, since when could she have possibly seen me? “I’ve never been to the Summer Court, let alone to your tree.”

“I suppose I’d remember meeting someone who can wield both water and air magic,” she replies. “And then there was that trick when you left your body. There were two of you. One in my roots, and the other a ghost.”

“I wasn’t a ghost. I was an astral projection,” I correct her. “It’s magic gifted to me by the star goddess.”

She tilts her head, and from the way her lips part, I think I’ve actually caught her by surprise.

“You’re claiming to be one of the star touched?” she asks.

“You’ve heard of me?” I ask in response.

“You’re not the first star touched to cross into this court,” she says. “There have been two others before you.”

“So, you know what’s at stake here,” I say, although from the way the roots tighten a bit more, I’m unsure if she sees me as a friend or a threat.

All I know is that she’s not killing me, which I take as a good sign.

“I’ve heard bits and pieces.” She shrugs, the leaves on the tree rustling with the movement. “However, the only thing at stake for me right now is the sap in my tree. And I do not tolerate thieves.”

“We’re not thieves,” I say quickly. “We didn’t mean to?—“

“Silence.” Her voice cuts through the air like a blade. “Your intentions do not matter to me. You touched my tree without permission. You fought against its defenses.”

“We apologize,” Riven says, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his brow. “You’re correct—we should have approached with more respect.”

He glares at me, as if this is my fault.

Which, admittedly, it sort of is, since I’m the one who reached out to touch the tree. Although, I had no reason to think that it housed a dryad who would punish me for doing so.

The dryad’s lips curl into something between a smile and a sneer. “Pretty words from a winter fae,” she says. “ But words mean nothing when your actions speak of violence.”

My heart sinks. She’s not going to give us the sap.

I glance at Riven, but he’s focused on Chryserra, his face an icy mask.

“However...” Chryserra steps closer, her bark-like skin shimmering in the moonlight. “Perhaps we could come to an arrangement.”

“What kind of arrangement?” Riven asks, and I hear the careful diplomacy in his tone—the voice of a prince used to negotiating delicate situations.

“A deal,” she says, circling us slowly. “One that could benefit us both. That is, if you’re willing to listen.”

Riven glances at me, and I nod, since what other choice do we have?

“We’re listening,” I say.

She stops in front of Riven, tilting her head like a bird studying particularly interesting prey. “I heard what you said to her earlier, Winter Prince. That you love her. Is it true?”

“Yes,” Riven says without hesitation, and my heart skips at how quickly and firmly he answers.

“And you, Star Touched?” Her gaze shifts to me. “Do you love him in return?”

“With all my heart,” I say softly.

“Fascinating.” She moves closer to Riven, studying him like he’s some rare specimen. “Your kind are carved from ice, your hearts as frozen as your magic. And yet, you love a summer fae.”

“You know nothing about my heart,” Riven says, and there’s an edge to his voice that makes my breath catch.

“Then enlighten me,” she challenges. “Tell me what she means to you. Prove that what you feel for her is real.”

I expect Riven to bristle at the command—to respond with his usual icy control.

Instead, his voice fills with a passion that takes my breath away.

“She’s everything,” he says. “From the moment she fell into my realm, she’s challenged everything I thought I knew about myself, and about what I’m capable of feeling.” His gaze finds mine, burning with fiery emotion. “She makes me want to be better, to be worthy of her trust and her love. She’s the warmth in my eternal winter, the light in my darkness. Every wall I built, every piece of ice I wrapped around my heart to keep the world out—she shattered it all.”

I stare at him, stunned. I knew he loved me, but this...

“And if I told you that obtaining my sap would cost her life?” the dryad asks.

“I would watch my entire court crumble before I’d let any harm come to her,” he says without pause.

“You don’t mean that,” I say, unable to fully process the weight of his words .

“I assure you that I do.” He focuses on me so intensely that the rest of the world falls away. “You’re touched by a goddess, Sapphire. But you’re more than that. You’re the only person who’s ever seen me—not the prince, not the ice-wielding fae—just me. And you didn’t run. You stayed. Even when I tried to push you away, you stayed. I didn’t think I was capable of love until you proved me wrong.”

My heart pounds, his words wrapping around me like a storm I can’t escape—one that I don’t want to escape. All I can do is feel the raw, concentrated truth of his love pouring over me like a wave.

“Riven,” I say, wanting to show him my heart as much as he’s showing me his. “I came back to this realm because if I never saw you again, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. And then, in that cave, I saw you. Not the prince, not the warrior, and not the heir to a frozen kingdom. I saw the real you. Now, you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I belong. With you, I don’t have to question whether I’m enough. You’ve taught me that I’m more than what fate carved me into. And I couldn’t walk away, even if I tried.”

“Promise me you’ll never try,” he says, his voice so full of emotion that it leaves me breathless.

“I promise,” I say, desperate to break out of this rooted cage and reach out to him. To hold him. To anchor myself in the storm of everything we’ve just laid bare .

But before I can try, Chryserra’s voice cuts through the air like a knife.

“How sweet,” she says, and the roots around Riven and me shift again, tightening just enough to remind us of her control. “Such pure, powerful love. A love so strong it defies the nature of a winter fae.” She reaches out as if to touch Riven’s face, but stops just short. “I want to feel it.”

My stomach drops. “What do you mean?”

“A trade,” she says, smiling at me in a way that makes dread curl through my body. “I’ll give you the sap you need, in exchange for the love he feels for you.”