Midnight Star (Star Touched: Fae Bound #3)

1. Sapphire

Sapphire

The dark angel is tied to Ghost’s back. Her wings are retracted, and she’s nearly unconscious, thanks to the relaxation potion Riven forced down her throat.

Another reason she’s unconscious? The blood loss.

The blood loss caused by me.

The moment I caught her blood’s scent, I lost control. I remember every moment of it—the rush of heat through my veins, and the hunger tearing through my chest as instinct overtook reason.

Even now, with the taste of her still lingering on my tongue, the craving claws at me. Especially because I wasn’t finished yet. I want more. And it’s here beside me, ripe for the taking, pumping through her body and tempting me so much I ache for it.

I swallow against the ache—against the whisper in the back of my mind that tells me to take. To feed .

I won’t give in. Because the memory of the way Riven looked at me when I turned and met his eyes—as if I was a stranger, or a monster—makes my chest feel hollow in a way it never has before.

Now, as we walk toward the cave with Ghost and the dark angel, I can’t bring myself to look at him. His disgust clings to the air between us like ice, like something shattered beyond repair. It will hurt too much when I see it, too.

But the silence between us is unbearable. Each minute we stay quiet, the distance between us grows.

So, I take a deep breath and glance at him.

His shoulders tense, but he doesn’t look back. He just keeps staring forward, like if he acknowledges me, even for a second, he’ll break. Or worse—he’ll hate me even more.

It’s another blow to my heart. One so strong that for a moment, I can’t even breathe.

Because Riven isn’t the only one who hates me.

I hate myself, too. For what I am. For what I’ve become.

But mostly, for the secrets I’ve kept, and the people I’ve hurt.

I wish I could go back in time and be honest with Riven from the start.

I wish I could go back in time and change so many things .

I’d protect Zoey from being taken at the waterfall by that dark angel. No—I wouldn’t have brought her with me to this realm in the first place. Maybe I wouldn’t have drunk water from that stream at all, and remained ignorant about the supernatural world in general.

But the moment I think it, I know that out of all this craziness, I wouldn’t sacrifice knowledge for ignorance. I’d never give up knowing what I really am. Who I really am. Trading something so life changing would be one of the most tragic things a person could ever do.

Still, the regret’s consuming me. Drowning me. Making it impossible to remain present in the current moment.

Unfortunately, I can’t go back in time. I can’t undo what I’ve done, no matter how much I wish I could rip the hunger from my bones and throw it into the trench where it belongs.

All I can do is move forward and pray I can right this mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Starting now.

“Riven,” I say softly, but he doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Don’t,” he says, coldly enough to freeze the air around us. “Just... don’t.”

As we continue toward the cave, the silence is so thick that I feel like I’m choking on it. And even though he doesn’t want me talking to him right now, I can’t ignore this. I need him to understand that I never kept my vampire side from him to hurt him.

“I wanted to tell you,” I try again. “I just?—”

“You just what?” He whirls around, and the force of his anger slams into me like a storm. “Thought you’d wait until I told you I loved you to reveal that you’re…” He motions to the dark angel, not saying any more.

He doesn’t have to.

I hear the unspoken words in the sharpness of his tone and the way his eyes gleam like shattered glass.

The dark angel lets out what sounds like a chuckle, but it could also be a groan. Even though she’s barely holding onto consciousness, she can apparently still hear most of our conversation.

My cheeks warm with humiliation that one of the most intensely private moments of my life is being overheard by this winged stranger.

But I have Riven’s attention now, and I refuse to lose it.

“It wasn’t like that,” I say to him, keeping my voice as steady as I can manage.

“Then what was it like?” he asks, and my thoughts spin at the question.

Did I keep the secret out of fear? Of shame? Of wanting to be seen for who I am, instead of for what I am? For not wanting this darkness to define me ?

Or because I knew that the moment I told him, I’d lose him?

“I’m sorry,” I say instead, unable to meet his gaze.

Ghost looks back and forth between us, his intelligent eyes filled with concern.

Riven just reaches for the hilt of his sword, as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded—the only thing he can trust.

He says nothing.

The rejection slices through me sharper than a blade ever could.

I don’t try to speak again. There’s no point. Riven clearly needs some space, and given how much of a death sentence it would be to ditch each other in this wilderness, silence will have to be enough.

But deep down, I know the truth.

No amount of silence will ever be enough to make him forget what I’ve done.

Nighttime’s fallen by the time we reach the cave, and the stars are singing to me, pointing me north.

But following the stars won’t do us any good right now. Right now, Riven and I need information—any information this dark angel might have about where Zoey was taken, or about the ancient woman who will hopefully tell us how to create the potion that will restore the Winter King’s sanity.

Riven seals the cave’s entrance with ice, unties the dark angel, and places her into a sitting position against the cave wall.

“The potion will wear off soon, and she’s already healing from the blood loss,” he says, clinical and detached. “We need to prepare for the interrogation.”

“Riven,” I try again. “Look at me. Please.”

He does, and I almost wish he hadn’t. Because his silver eyes, usually so calm and calculating, are now stormy, filled with something between fury and hurt.

It breaks my heart.

“You had so many chances to tell me,” he says quietly. “In the cave during the storm. When we trained together. After we...” He breaks off, jaw clenching.

I don’t need him to finish the sentence to know what he was going to say.

After we gave everything to each other. After I made him believe I was something pure, when I was anything but.

“I trusted you with everything,” he continues, sharper now, cutting into me with each word. “My father’s madness. My mother’s death. Ghost. And you were keeping this from me the entire time.”

His words are a physical blow, and wind swirls around us—a reminder of the magic I kept from him. Air magic— vampire magic. The same magic I’ve been using to kill to survive.

“Control yourself,” he says steadily, eying me like I’m a bomb about to explode. “I’m going to try learning where Zoey is. Because wherever these creatures took her is the place where they are. And if we know where they are, my people can further investigate what they are. Understood?”

There’s no softness in his words. This is simply a logical step forward. A strategy to solve a problem that’s blocking our way from making the potion to restore his father’s sanity.

“You’re going to try to find Zoey?” I ask, since finding her has always been far less important to him than figuring out how to make the potion.

“We can’t give up this opportunity to learn what and where these winged creatures are,” he repeats. “But if we want this one to talk, you’ll need to control your magic. Okay?”

Unexpected warmth flashes through his eyes, and I take a few deep breaths, grounding myself. It’s gone a second later, but I know it was there.

Despite everything, he still cares.

If he doesn’t… I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from the shame burying itself in my soul.

“Okay,” I say, and I force my air magic down, although it fights me every step of the way .

It wants to be acknowledged. To be free. But I can’t release it. Not when Riven’s trust in me is already shattered, the pieces slipping through my fingers like melted ice.

He nods in approval. Then he kneels in front of the dark angel, reaches forward, and grabs her hand.

Ice creeps up her body like crystalline vines, encasing her body from toe to neck. The frozen prison glistens in the dim light, jagged and beautiful in its deadly precision, although her head remains free. Assumedly so she’ll still be able to talk.

She struggles against her bonds, but they hold firm.

“This will do.” Riven stands, gazing down at her as if she’s an animal in a cruel experiment. “Now, let’s see how far we’ll have to go to get her to reveal the truth.”