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.
