Midnight Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #3)

39. Sapphire

Sapphire

“Are you ready?” Riven asks me.

The wind around us stills and the water recedes into the stream as I draw on their strength for what’s going to happen next.

“I’m ready,” I tell him.

“Good. But I don’t want to be touching you when it happens,” he says, untangling his fingers from mine. “It would only make it harder for both of us.”

I give him the smallest nod—understanding why having our hands tied would be far from the most strategic move. Then, I turn back to face Eros, keeping my heartbeat steady even as adrenaline hums beneath my skin.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say, both to Eros and to Riven, bracing myself for what’s going to happen next .

“Finally,” Eros says, and he raises the bow, the bright magic flaring like sparklers from its end, and then…

He lets go.

The golden arrow slices through the air, a dazzling storm of undying love hurtling toward me.

I go from stillness to pure motion, my air magic propelling me forward, nearly flying me to the stream. The closer I can get to the water, the better.

Riven’s already moving, too—his sword a flash of silver as he hurries to my side, blade raised, ready to fight.

“A bold choice.” Eros laughs, nocking another gold arrow into his bow and releasing it. “One I can have fun with.”

The water from the stream surges up at my command, twisting around me in a liquid shield, but Eros’s arrow doesn’t just soar.

It splits.

One becomes two. Two become four.

They whip through the air in a storm of gold, their paths erratic, impossible to predict. And these aren’t just regular arrows. They’re magic arrows. Each one weakens my water shield, rippling it outward, making it harder to maintain.

One gets through.

I slash it with my dagger, stopping it mid-flight .

The moment all the arrows hit the ground, they roll toward each other, melding back into one.

Eros moves with otherworldly speed, his bow a blur as he looses another round of arrows. Except this time, instead of firing in a straight trajectory, they twist midair, moving like serpents zeroing in on their target.

That target is me.

I whip my hands up, calling on my air magic to shift their paths. The wind howls, sending several arrows veering off course, but one slices across my shoulder, another grazing my thigh.

I scream, the pain burning through me, but force myself to stay standing.

Because like Eros said, the magic only works when it strikes the heart. And—luckily—the arrows’ magic isn’t changing the speed of my supernatural healing.

As I recover, Riven’s sword is a lethal blur as he intercepts another volley of arrows. He ducks low, easily evading their paths, then rolls to his feet and knocks another aside.

The frost on his blade flickers, but his skill more than makes up for his magic being weakened in the Summer Court.

But Eros isn’t just fast. He’s methodical. And he’s apparently so fixated on making me experience the nightmarish picture of undying love he painted for me that he’s only using the gold arrows, and he’s not aiming for Riven at all.

They’re all directed toward me. Every single one of them.

And he doesn’t waste shots. He watches, adapts. He fires exactly where we’re vulnerable. And since we’re trapped in his dome-like arena, we can’t run. We can’t hide.

We can only fight. Until, presumably, he’s out of arrows and we can get close enough to him to slice him with our blades. Maybe we won’t be able to kill him—I’m obviously unsure of the technicalities behind killing gods—but we can hurt him, just like we hurt that night fae in the cave.

Meanwhile, Riven uses his sword to deflect another arrow that breaks through my water shield, snatching it up before it can fuse back together with the others on the ground.

“Take it,” he growls, holding it out to me. “Use it against him.”

“Seriously?” I say, creating a gust of wind so strong that it knocks the next group of arrows off course.

“Throw it like you’d throw your dagger,” he continues, as if he’s not suggesting something crazier than me trying to project myself into space. “Your aim is all but perfect. ”

Frustrated by my hesitation, he forces it into my hand—the one that’s not holding my dagger.

I tighten my grip around it, my heart hammering, feeling its magic as it buzzes across my skin.

This is dangerous. Stupid.

But maybe just reckless enough to work.

“Guide it with your wind,” he continues to instruct, knocking aside another arrow with his sword as it hurtles toward me. “Don’t overthink it—just throw it.”

I don’t have time to argue. Because Eros has already nocked another arrow, his golden eyes flicking toward me, amusement curling at his lips.

So, I shift my weight, channel my air magic, and hurl the arrow straight at him.

The wind carries it like a missile, guiding it toward him…

But Eros is fast.

He leans to the side at the last second, and the arrow whizzes past, missing his arm by a breath.

I curse and strengthen my water shield.

“Nice try,” Eros says as he picks up the arrow, laughing softly as he twirls it between his fingers. “But you forgot—this is my game, not yours.”

Before I can respond, he unleashes a fresh wave of golden arrows, faster than any before. And these arrows aren’t just splitting. They’re creating patterns, forcing Riven and me to dodge in opposite directions .

I try to fight my way back to him, but Eros’s assault is perfectly calculated, herding us like sheep until we’re on opposite sides of the dome.

“Much better,” Eros says, standing between us, nocking three arrows at once. “Now, we can have some real fun.”

He releases the arrows, and they split into a deadly web that forces me to throw myself behind another water shield. Through the rippling barrier, I see Riven moving toward me, but more arrows cut off his path.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your little strategy?” the god asks, his voice easily carrying despite the chaos. “Agreeing to work together and protect each other from the inevitable?”

“We’re not—” I start, ducking as more arrows slice through the air where my head was.

“Not what? In love? Are you sure?” He laughs again, and this time there’s real venom in it. “Because you’re still fighting together. Still trying to protect each other. Still trusting each other. Which, ironically, makes his sacrifice even worse.”

I catch Riven’s eye across the dome.

He’s breathing hard, his sword slightly lowered, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. But his expression is steady. Calculating. Challenging me to not let anything Eros says disrupt my focus.

Given the way he looks right now, with the Summer Court’s magic clearly affecting him, our survival depends on me figuring this out.

Eros sighs, twirling another arrow between his fingers, his eyes glittering with something between amusement, boredom, and malice. “I’ll admit, keeping you two apart has been fun,” he says. “But watching you struggle just isn’t enough anymore. It’s time to raise the stakes.”

In a heartbeat, he exchanges the gold arrow for a lead one, positions it with deadly precision, takes aim at Riven’s chest, and fires.

The lead arrow splits.

Two become four. Four become eight.

All of them swarm Riven.

Even with my air magic at my heels, there’s not enough time to get to him.

So, gripping my dagger, I zero in on the place by his side and project.

One moment, I’m watching everything unfurl from across the dome. The next, I’m staring at a group of lead arrows whistling straight toward us.

But I’m already moving, channeling air magic to knock them off course.

“Behind you!” I shout to Riven as Eros releases two more splitting arrows.

He spins, his sword flashing as he deflects a group of them at once. At the same time, I send a gust of wind that drives the others into the ground.

Eros shoots more, and more, and each time, we ward them off.

But with each attack, Riven’s slowing. He’s not using his magic at all anymore. Even more worrisome, he’s keeping both hands on the hilt of his sword, his grip tight, as if he’s afraid it might slip from his fingers at a moment’s notice.

Then, in what feels like slow motion, a lead arrow grazes his arm.

I’m there, blocking what I can, but it’s not enough. All I can hear are his pained groans, hitting me so hard that it’s like they’re my own.

“Sapphire,” he manages to snap at me as another arrow grazes his thigh. “Go back.”

Another group of lead arrows arcs toward us, but I’m too focused on Riven—on how the Summer Court’s heat is affecting him, on how much slower his movements are becoming—to block them all in time.

One of them slices my side.

There’s no pain.

No blood.

Because I’m in my projected form.

I reach for the place where the wound should have been, but of course, my skin is untouched.

Eros laughs, his eyes glittering with malicious intent. “ An interesting development,” he says as he nocks two arrows at once—one gold, and one lead. “How about I be a bit reckless myself and up the ante even more, so we can let the cards fall as they may?”

In one fluid motion, he spins and releases the arrows in a deadly arc—straight toward my helpless body.

“No!” I scream, and then I snap back, air rushing into my lungs as my consciousness locks into place.

Pain explodes through my chest.

White-hot and all-consuming, it rips through me like electricity unleashed, scorching every nerve ending and burning through my veins until I can’t tell where the agony ends and I begin.

Someone calls my name. Riven, maybe. But I can’t focus on his voice. I can’t hold onto anything except the arrow lodged in my heart, and the magic coursing through my body like liquid fire.

Then, there’s an overwhelming surge of... something.

Love? Hate?

I can’t tell.

All I know is that it’s an emotion so raw and overwhelming that it’s devouring me whole, searing my soul and rewriting my entire existence in the process.