RIVEN
A chargedsilence ripples through the room as my father’s eyes dart between the glowing rings, to Sapphire’s steady posture, then back to me.His grip on the throne’s arm digs so deep that the ice cracks beneath his fingers.
“How do I know this isn’t an elaborate deception?” he finally asks. “That the Summer Court hasn’t corrupted my son to infiltrate the Winter throne?”
I draw the sealed letter from my cloak, the royal parchment bearing Queen Lysandra’s signature and her Summer Court seal—a blooming lotus surrounded by flowing water.
And then, holding it in plain view, I approach the throne in measured steps.
Sapphire follows, close enough that we almost touch.
My father rises and meets us at the bottom of the steps, his eyes locked on the letter. The throne room remains silent, every guard on alert, every icicle overhead seeming to tremble with expectation.
My father snatches the letter with frost-tipped fingers, breaks the seal, and scans its contents. His frown deepens with each line he reads.
“A clever forgery, perhaps,” he mutters, although the uncertainty in his voice betrays him.
After all, he knows I can’t lie. Not outright.
“There’s more proof,” Sapphire says, and she beckons to Ghost and Nebula, who approach with silent grace. “Our soul-bound familiars.”
The snow leopard and cheetah circle each other in perfect unison, then press their noses together. A glow rises between them, winter frost meeting summer warmth, merging into a shimmering aura that swirls around their sleek bodies.
“Soul twins,” my father says, awe creeping into his voice. “I haven’t seen such a pairing in centuries.”
“Because Winter and Summer have been divided for too long,” I say, pressing our advantage while his curiosity outweighs his paranoia. “And like our familiars, Sapphire and I are more than married. We share a soul. Which is why we share each other’s magic, too.”
I summon my magic again—not just the familiar frost, but the flowing water. They weave together, neither canceling the other. Instead, they enhance and strengthen, becoming something greater.
Sapphire matches me, calling up her own swirling blend of water and ice.
“This is...” My father circles us slowly, watching our magic dance. “Unprecedented.”
A flicker of the scholar he once was—before the madness consumed him—shows in his fascinated gaze.
But it’s quickly overridden by suspicion.
“Why have you returned with this union?” he demands, ice spears shooting up from the steps with so much suddenness that I step back. “What purpose does it serve?”
“We want to save both our courts,” Sapphire answers quickly. “From the Night Court.”
My father stills, and the ice spears melt back into the floor.
“It appears you know of the Night Court,” I say slowly, surprise stirring in my chest. Because if my father knew of the Night Court’s existence, surely he would have mentioned it at some point?
He scoffs, folding his arms over his fur cloak. “The Night Court is a children’s tale to scare young fae,” he says, brushing it off. “One I banned from my court a millennium ago.”
“The Night Court is real,” Sapphire counters, and my magic hums at my fingertips, fighting to break free—to protect her from anything my father might throw at her. “We encountered a night fae ourselves. We captured her. Weinterrogatedher.”
The guards in the room shift on their feet.
I move closer to Sapphire, our shoulders touching.
“They’re the ones abducting winter fae from our borders,” I start where she left off. “They’re turning us into what they are—hybrids of winter fae and vampires.”
My father presses his lips together, rage swirling in his eyes.
Heknew.
