10. Sapphire

Sapphire

My stomach plummets.

The monster sees us.

Zoey and I remain frozen in place—as if we can make it somehow un see us—when it lunges, faster than I thought something that thin and decrepit could move.

Its bony limbs stretch out, reaching for Zoey with its clawed, mangled hands.

Panic rushes through me.

Then, as if the universe can feel the intensity of my desperation, a gust of wind hits the monster, catching it unaware and making it stumble back.

It rebounds quickly.

Zoey picks up a fallen branch and holds it up like a weapon, as if she’s an Amazonian warrior goddess.

The monster’s eyes lock on her, and it lunges with a feral scream that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Fear for Zoey’s life surges through me, and I call on the water, pulling it from the stream and forming a barrier between us and the creature.

It rises like a wall, shimmering and shifting.

The monster crashes into it. But while the water ripples, it holds.

I exhale, relief flooding through me.

Then, the monster rears back and lets out a furious growl, its claws slicing through the water like it’s nothing.

I’m not powerful enough—or at least not trained well enough, given that I’ve never been trained at all—to control the water like I want to. Especially not with something this huge and feral attacking us.

I’m gathering more water as Zoey swings her branch as if it’s a giant baseball bat, hitting the creature square across the face.

It staggers back with an ear-splitting screech, blood running down its face from its eye socket—its eye seemingly crushed from Zoey’s swing.

“Let’s go!” I tell her, but the monster lunges again, its claws outstretched and aiming for her throat.

Refusing to let the monster get to her, I thrust out my hands, and the water from the stream surges up like a wave, crashing into the monster and knocking it back .

The monster shakes it off as if it’s nothing.

Fear shoots through me. But I push harder, drawing more water from the stream and using it to create a tube-shield thing that encircles me and Zoey, who’s holding the branch with one hand and a particularly sharp rock in the other.

The monster slashes at the shield, threatening to tear it apart, and I glance around in panic.

The shield is keeping the monster back for now. But how long will I be able to hold onto my magic like this?

I have no idea.

Which means we’ll have to outrun this thing.

Will we even be able to outrun this thing? I don’t think so, but we’re not exactly doing an A-plus job at killing it. And I have no idea how to drop the shield without giving the monster an in to attack us the moment it falls.

The barrier I created around us is both a shield and a coffin.

Horror tears at my throat.

But I’m not going to let us die like this. More importantly, I’m not going to let Zoey die because we decided the fae realm might make for a fun field trip.

It was so stupid. But the existence of monsters— real monsters—didn’t seem real until one’s staring me in the face .

Well, through a water shield. Same thing.

Zoey’s still holding up the stick like a weapon, ready to strike if the shield breaks, when a gust of wind whips through the trees at an angle that allows me to use its momentum to push all the water that’s part of the shield at the monster, throwing it so off balance that it falls to the ground.

Zoey throws her rock with all the strength she has, then grabs my arm, pulling me with her out of the clearing and into the forest.

I hold onto her as we bolt through the trees, keeping her pace even though I can run faster.

The creature roars, furious and relentless, its claws scraping the ground as it comes after us.

We’re not fast enough.

It’s gaining on us.

I reach for Zoey’s hand, and the wind whips through the trees and pushes at our backs, adding speed to our steps as I pull us forward with every ounce of strength I can muster.

We turn a corner, and there, up ahead, is a massive pile of fallen trees.

A pile that might slow down the monster—if we’re able to get over it.

It’s an impossible jump. But we have so much momentum that we might be able to do it .

Either way, we have to try. It’s either make the jump, have the monster catch up with us, or turn back around to fight it.

I don’t like the last two options.

“Brace yourself!” I tell Zoey through the howling wind, tightening my grip on her hand. “We’re going to jump.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says.

“I don’t,” I say, and then we leap into the air, soaring higher and farther than I ever thought possible.

We clear the trees in one giant leap, using the momentum of the wind behind our heels to continue running without stumbling, weaving through the trees with more grace than I ever thought I had in me.

Eventually, we find ourselves in a clearing.

Zoey lets go of my hand, stumbling to a halt as she leans against a tree, her chest heaving, her cheeks bright red.

But we can’t stop. The creature’s crashing through the trees behind us, its guttural roar reverberating through the forest, threatening to rip us to shreds.

“Come on,” I tell her, reaching for her. “We have to keep going.”

I’ll throw her over my back and carry her if I have to.

I’m about to do it when a deep, commanding voice cuts through the air.

“Get down!” he says, and I barely register the words before Zoey grabs my arm, pulling me down as Ghost leaps from the tree line, crashing into the monster with terrifying force.

The monster roars as Ghost’s teeth sink into its skeletal frame.

Riven appears seconds later, flanked by four other knights, each armed with gleaming swords. They charge the monster, their movements fluid and precise, with the kind of grace only experienced warriors can possess.

I freeze, watching in awe as Riven’s sword slices through the air, striking the creature’s back with a sharp crack that makes it howl in pain.

The other knights fan out, surrounding the monster, cutting off any chance of escape.

Zoey grips my arm tighter. “Is that?—?”

“Riven,” I breathe, my heart skipping a beat.

The monster swings its claws at Riven, but he dodges with ease, sidestepping every attack like it’s nothing.

His movements are hypnotic. Each strike is perfectly timed, every dodge effortless. Occasionally, he’ll shoot a spear of ice at the monster, although the monster seems far more adept at dodging those than the sword.

It’s beautiful to watch.

But before Riven left me at my house, he said he wasn’t a knight in shining armor.

I’m not going to sit back, do nothing, and let him act like one .

And while there might not be a stream nearby, there’s always moisture in the air. Humidity. Which means I’m surrounded by water—if I can figure out how to harness it.

So, I focus on the coolness around my skin—the mist lingering in the air—and pull on it with everything I have.

The water obeys, gathering in thick, shimmering tendrils around me. And, in that moment, I feel more powerful than ever.

But this isn’t the time to stand around admiring my work. So, I thrust my hand forward, and the water surges through the air, striking the monster from the side.

The impact knocks it off balance.

Riven jumps onto Ghost’s back, and they leap forward at the perfect angle for him to drive his blade through the creature’s chest.

It screeches and falls to the ground.

Dead.

At least it looks dead, with its remaining eye glazed over, staring into nothing.

My heart’s pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins like wildfire. But I can’t take my eyes off Riven.

He said he was well trained, but I wasn’t expecting that.

Now, he’s walking toward me, his sword dripping with the monster’s dark blood, his gaze sharp and assessing.

“Surround them,” he commands the knights, and they obey his order, forming a loose circle around Zoey and me.

All five of them are watching me and Zoey as if we’re the next threat.

My happiness about our victory against the monster disappears in an instant.

“Your Highness,” one of the knights addresses Riven. “It appears we’ve stumbled upon two summer fae.”

“One summer fae,” Riven corrects him. “The other one never used magic. We don’t know what she is yet.”

As he speaks, there’s only one thing I can focus on.

“Your Highness?” I ask, keeping my eyes locked on Riven’s, a million questions floating in those two words.

“Prince Riven Draevor of the Winter Court,” he introduces himself, flat and matter of fact. “And you, Summer Fae, are trespassing on my lands.”

I stare up at him in shock, waiting for him to take it back.

He doesn’t.

“No.” I shake my head, begging him to listen. “It wasn’t like that.”

“You used water magic in liquid form,” he says coldly. “Summer magic. Which means you’re a summer fae on my lands. ”

With that, he turns away from me and faces the knights.

Well, I suppose they’re technically his knights.

“Blindfold the intruders,” he commands. “We’ll bring them back to the palace, so they can face my father, the king.”