SAPPHIRE
Three daysof sailing through star-lit waters have left me hollow with hunger.
The vegetarian food helps, but it’s like trying to satisfy a wolf with grass. My body knows what it really needs, and it’s angry about not getting it. And, to make it worse, the thirst is stronger in the mortal realm than in the mystical realm.
I’ve been avoiding Riven as much as possible. Keeping my distance. Keeping my sanity. But it doesn’t stop the way my fangs ache when he’s near, and the way my breath catches on his scent, crisp and cold, like the first bite of winter.
But I shake my head sharply, forcing myself to focus on what matters—the Algol Star.We’re almost directly beneath it, and my magic shifts restlessly beneath my skin, responding to the energy radiating from above.
Finally, after midnight, the island we’re searching for emerges like a dream from the endless water.
Cliffs rise from the sea, their jagged edges softened by moonlight. The shoreline curves like a crescent, the sand glowing white beneath the star-strewn sky. Towering trees, theirleaves an impossible shade of emerald, sway gently in the breeze, and the air carries the scent of honey and smoke.
We’re here. Finally.
Time to get Riven.
I take a slow breath, brace myself, and head to the cabin door, hesitating before pushing it open.
He’s asleep, sprawled on the bed, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.
I stand there for a moment, studying him. The sharp lines of his cheekbones, the dark sweep of his lashes, the tousled black hair that always looks like he just ran a hand through it. Even in sleep, there’s a quiet intensity to him—a coiled stillness, like a predator at rest.
And his scent—ice, pine, and something darker—is everywhere.
My pulse spikes as the hunger crashes into me again. It’s stronger than it was a few hours ago when he went to sleep, and there he is, bound to be more than receptive to the wakeup call of my mouth on his neck…
No,I think as I dig my nails into my palms, hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks on my skin.
I won’t let the hunger control me. I won’t give in.
“Riven,” I say, forcing myself to focus. “Wake up.”
His body tenses before his eyes open, silver and sharp, even in the dim light. For a fraction of a second, he just looks at me, his expression unreadable. Then, he blinks and stretches lazily—too lazily, like he’s deliberately drawing my attention to the way his muscles shift beneath his shirt—and sits up.
“Couldn’t give me five more minutes?” His voice is low, laced with sleep, rough in a way that makes my stomach tighten.
I cross my arms, ignoring the way my magic flares with frustration. “We’re here,” I tell him. “Beneath the Algol Star.”
A lazy smirk crosses his lips. “You mean you didn’t burst in here to finally get a taste?”
My stomach flips.
“If I was going to drink from you,” I say, keeping my voice cool and controlled, “I wouldn’t wake you up first.”
“Maybe I should go back to sleep then,” he says, and a breeze rushes through the cabin, making his hair look more perfectly tousled than it already did.
Why does everything about him have totemptme so much?
“Look—you can either help me dock this thing, or I’ll do it alone,” I tell him, standing strong, taking shallow breaths so I don’t inhale too much of his deliciously wintry scent. “And given that I have no experience in docking ships, I recommend the latter.”
He shifts, stretching his arms above his head one more time before swinging his legs over the bed.
“You mean you don’t want to take another swim?” he asks.
More wind rushes through the cabin—stronger this time—and I spin on my heel, making my way back on deck.
When I emerge, something else catches my attention. Another island in the distance, obscured by shifting clouds that part just enough to reveal a massive, ancient-looking stone tower rising high in the sky, ancient and foreboding, its edges black against the starlight.
