RIVEN
Triumph surges through me,as cold as the ice coating the arena floor.
I could end this now. I could endhim.
But then, like a spark of warmth in the ice, Sapphire’s presence rushes through our bond. Her hope. Her fear. Her plea before I stepped into the arena.
Promise me you won’t become the Lonely King.
I said yes. And I will never betray my word to her. I will never lose her trust.
So, I lower my voice, keeping it steady through the adrenaline.
“You are no longer fit to rule,” I say to my father, the crossed blades at his throat catching the light, glinting with deadly promise. “But I’m not going to kill you right now.”
He jerks against the blades, but I press them tighter, applying just enough pressure to remind him who holds the power.
Cold, deadly whirlpools swirl in his eyes.
“You claim you haven’t been turned,” he says, frost curling around him—frost I melt with heated air. “Yet, you’re usingair magic against me.Vampiremagic. But at the same time, you’re not a night fae. Your eyes aren’t black, and your wings aren’t spread wide for all to see.” His smile twists with fevered certainty. “No… it’s worse than that. You’re one ofthem.You’re a Revenant.”
The single word echoes across the ice.
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Nobles rise to their feet, their expressions shifting from awe to horror.
I have to end this—now. Before the entire Winter Court turns on their prince.
“I am not a Revenant,” I declare. “My air magic did not come from the Night Court, nor did it come from Ambrogio and the Blood Coven.”
The crowd quiets again.
Thank the gods the fae can’t lie.
My father’s brow furrows, confusion battling the madness. Doubt clouds his expression.
And I use it. I offer him—and the entire court—the truth.
“My water and air magic came from my wife,” I say, turning to the royal box, where Sapphire stands frozen, her hand poised at her cloak, ready to grab the Star Disc at a moment’s notice. “Princess Sapphire Hayes Fairmont Solandriel Draevor, daughter of Queen Lysandra Solandriel of the Summer Court and King Damien Fairmont of the New York Vampire Clan.”
“Impossible.” My father twitches, and I press the blades deeper—not enough to kill, but enough to remind him of his place.
My heart races, a storm of terror and determination gathering in my chest.
Don’t make me do this,I pray to any god who might care about the outcome of this battle.Don’t push me to become the broken, empty shell I’ll be if I’m forced to take his crown.
Because one word from my father would allow the guards to kill me. And while I’m powerful, my odds of surviving against everyone in this arena is slim to none.
But with a calculated swipe of my blade?
The crown will be mine, and the Winter Court will answer to me.
So, I call on my air magic, heating the blades, watching my father’s skin sizzle under the metal.
He screams—a raw, harrowing sound that chills me to the core.
When he gets control over himself, I speak louder, seizing the stunned silence.
“Sapphire and I are more than just husband and wife. Our souls are bound,” I say, making sure my voice reaches even the highest of the stands. “With that bond, I gained her magic—air and water—and she gained my ice.”
