“Well?” He lifts a brow. “Aren’t you going to join me, Princess?”
“I would rather throw myself into the abyss,” I say sweetly, moving across the stone floor and testing the water with my toes.
It’s warm. Welcoming. Tempting.
And so, needing to get this over with, I lower myself in.
The deeper I go, the heavier the air feels. Like the magic in this place knows what’s about to happen and is waiting to carve it into the fabric of existence.
By the time I reach Riven, the water is lapping at my shoulders. He’s barely an arm’s length away, and while his silver eyes are unreadable, his breaths are coming faster.
Mine are, too.
Lysandra’s voice carries over the water, amusement dripping from every word. “Now, fully submerge yourselves and kiss,” she says. “Only then will the bond be complete.”
Riven’s eyes remain locked on mine, and my stomach clenches.
I lift my chin, willing my voice not to shake. “I hope you drown,” I say, clenching my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms to release the pain.
“If I do, you’re coming with me.” His voice drops lower, barely a whisper above the lapping water. “Together? On three?”
“Whatever gets this over with fastest,” I say, keeping my hands to myself, not wanting to touch him until the very last second.
“One...” He starts to count, the number falling between us like a stone in a pond.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself.
“Two...”
For a fraction of a second, I see something flicker in his gaze—uncertainty, maybe. Or fear.
“Three.”
We submerge.
The water embraces me like a living force, wrapping around my skin, filling my lungs with cool, crisp magic that allows me to breathe beneath the surface.
And then, the world stops.
Reality shifts.
The anger, the betrayal, the endless storm of pain inside me—it’s gone. Dissolved like frost in sunlight.
In its place floods something else. Something pure. Something real.
Love.
And then, when Riven’s eyes lock onto mine, the ice melts, leaving only truth behind.
There’s no cold detachment. No calculation. No cruel amusement. There’s just the man who traced constellations on my back as I explained how the stars sang to me, who held me close when we slept in each other’s arms, and who kissed me like I was something sacred. The man who promised he’d find his way back to me, no matter what. Who promised that I wasn’t just in his heart, but that I was embedded into the depths of his soul.
The last of my defenses crumble.
And then, we crash.
I don’t know who moves first. I don’t know if it’s me or him or the water itself dragging us into each other’s orbit. But suddenly, his arms are around my waist, and my fingers are tangling in his hair as he kisses me like his life depends on it.
It’s like he’s starving, drowning, and I’m the only thing that can keep him alive. It’s the kind of kiss that tears down kingdoms, unravels fate, and makes and unmakes the universe in a single breath.
