SAPPHIRE
Eros drawsboth arrows—one gold, one lead—and he holds them up, side by side.
The metallic tips gleam under the golden light of the dome, and my heart pounds as I stare at them.
I reach for Riven’s hand, but he shrugs me off.
“What are our options?” he asks calmly, as if we’re standing in the center of court and he’s ready to enter negotiations.
Given that our options are to either negotiate with this god or to fight him, I can’t fully blame him.
“It’s simple,” Eros says with a cruel smile, directing his attention to me. “I’ll either shoot you with gold, intensifying your love until it consumes you completely. Or...” His gaze shifts to Riven. “I’ll shoot him with lead, driving what remains of his capacity to love you so far away that all that’s left is hatred.”
“No.” I step back, staring at the arrows in horror.
Eros continues as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Choose wisely.” He nocks a golden arrow to his bow, but he doesn’t draw it. Not yet. “Although I must say, both options are rather poetic. Either he’ll hate you with the same intensity heonce loved you, or your love will grow until it drives you mad, knowing he’ll never feel the same.”
“This is ridiculous—” Riven says, but Eros cuts him off.
“This is justice. You both agreed to trade away something sacred. Now you’ll both suffer the consequences of that choice. The only question is... how?”
The wind howls around me, but I barely feel it. All I feel is the weight of the choice hanging before me and the threat of the arrows gleaming in the golden light.
“The answer is obvious,” Riven says, cold and precise. “Because if I hate her, I’ll likely kill her. And that would be rather counterproductive to our mission.”
The casual way he says it—like he’s discussing trade negotiations instead of our hearts—makes me want to scream. As it is, the stream surges toward my feet, water licking at my ankles as if it wants to drag me under.
Eros glances at it, but he seems unbothered.
“Always so calculating, Winter Prince,” Eros muses, studying Riven, as if he can see into his heart. Which, fairly, he likely can. “Even now, you reduce everything to strategy and gain. Tell me, does it not bother you at all? Using her feelings against her like this?”
“She and I can each handle ourselves.” Riven shrugs. “Protecting her feelings isn’t my responsibility.”
I look to him, searching his eyes for some flicker of the Riven I know. The one who pulled me against him when the cold got too harsh, who let me break down in his arms when I thought I lost Zoey forever.
If he’s still in there, he’s doing a heartbreakingly good job at hiding it.
“You wouldn’t kill me,” I finally say, the words barely audible over the roar of my pounding heart. “Even if you hated me, you wouldn’t do it.”
His jaw clenches, but his gaze remains impassive. “Don’t be so sure.”
Eros chuckles, the sound rich with amusement as he twirls the golden arrow between his fingers. “You speak of killing her as if discussing the weather,” he says. “Do you truly believe you could do it? Take her life so easily?”
“If I hated her?” Riven’s voice is like ice. “It would be rather motivating. But I’m growing restless. So, if we’re done with this display, I believe you were about to shoot her with that golden arrow.”
Eros smirks at Riven, then turns back to me, looking eager to hear my response.
“We can’t risk him hating me,” I say, needing to tread carefully. “Especially since I already love him.”
I glance at Riven, hoping for support, or gratitude, or pride that I’m potentially agreeing to take this hit.
Surprisingly, he takes a step closer to me.
“You’ll be okay.” His voice is low but firm, cutting through my nerves like steel.
“I know I will,” I reply, and this time when I reach for his hand, he doesn’t pull back.
