32. Sapphire

Sapphire

Nausea rises into my throat as I stare down the ravine.

It’s so deep that I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me it was a portal to the Underworld.

I can’t cross that. There’s no way I can cross it. Especially considering Zoey’s condition.

“You’re going to need a running start for momentum,” Zoey says, clutching my neck, her skin frighteningly cold. “About one hundred feet of it, give or take. More is better than less.”

I glance back at the forest we just burst out of, where animals scurry through branches and shadows flicker across the sparkling trees. I don’t hear the hunt yet. But if we hide, they’ll find us. Riven won’t be able to keep his knights from searching in the right places forever.

Our only known way back to the human realm is blocked .

Leaving Winter Court territory is our best chance at safety.

Assuming we don’t end up broken and dead at the bottom of that ravine.

Which means somehow, I have to get us to the other side.

I have to jump.

I turn and walk away from the ravine, counting my steps as I go. One hundred feet feels like an eternity, but when I turn back around, it doesn’t seem like nearly enough.

I zero in on the ground on the opposite side of the ravine—the place where I’ll be landing. It’s dark out, but with the light of the stars, I’m able to see. My supernatural vision is probably helping, too.

“You’ve got this,” Zoey says, and I wish she was also fae, so I could know whether she believes it, or if she’s lying. “Go. Now.”

Don’t think, I remind myself, since it worked while running through the forest. Just feel.

I take a deep breath, reaching for my magic to ground myself.

“Hold tight,” I say, and Zoey adjusts her grip, her fingers curling around my shoulders.

Then, I sprint.

The wind rushes past me, biting cold and sharp against my skin. But at the same time, it guides me. Propels me. Drives me forward.

One hundred feet feels like a lifetime and a heartbeat all at once.

The edge looms, and holding tightly onto Zoey, I push off with everything in me, legs coiling and releasing in a single fluid motion.

The world tips.

Then we’re airborne, weightless, suspended over nothing. It’s like the air itself is lifting us, pushing against my back with a subtle, unseen force, guiding us to the other side of the ravine.

I don’t look down.

The impact comes faster than expected. But I bend my knees to absorb it, refusing to make a mistake like I did when first landed in the fae realm. Not just for myself, but also for Zoey. She can’t afford another injury.

I fall forward, my shoulder smacking hard against the frozen ground, the side of my head quickly following. Pain shoots through me in a blinding light. But somehow, Zoey remains safely on my back.

I roll onto my side, shaking the dizziness from my vision as Zoey shifts and slides onto the ground.

Her eyes are wide, pupils blown, and skin pale.

There’s also a glimmer of relief that makes me wonder just how confident she really was back there when she told me I could definitely jump that ravine .

“Wow.” She props herself up on her good arm, releasing a breathless laugh. “You did it.”

I push myself up, my injuries from the landing already dimming, and gaze out at the ravine. “Yeah,” I say. “I guess I did.”

“That was amazing,” she says, and despite the pain I know she’s feeling, she keeps going. “You flew. Like, I know that fae don’t actually have wings—well, I obviously didn’t know that until a week ago—but I swear you were flying.”

“It did sort of feel like that,” I agree, and then I get down to business and look her over, inspecting her injury.

The bandage is soaked through. And her blood… my stomach growls again, reminding me about how much magic I’ve been using, and how I’m apparently expending so much energy when I use my magic that I get hungrier faster.

Her blood should not be reminding me of a juicy steak right now. And yet?—

“It must be bad,” she interrupts my thought. “It feels bad. I think you’re going to have to carry me the rest of the way to the cave. I’m sorry. I just feel…” She shakes her head, and I notice how glassy her eyes look. “I need help.”

I swallow, nodding. The only time Zoey’s ever needed my help—before we got to the fae realm, of course—was when I saved her from drowning in that lake when we were kids.

“You need a fresh bandage.” I rip off another piece of my shirt, not leaving room for argument.

I move quickly, fingers stiff with cold as I work through the knot.

She flinches, a soft hiss escaping her lips, but holds still.

“Almost there.” I keep my hands steady as I untie it, even as the spicy scent of her blood curls at the edge of my senses.

I’m about to put the fresh bandage on her when a chill sweeps through the air. It’s different from the cold in the Winter Court—sharper and deeper. A reminder that we’ve crossed into unfamiliar territory.

The Wandering Wilds, Riven’s voice echoes through my mind. Not from the whisper stone, but from the memory of when he said it to me earlier.

I tense, scanning the tree line on this side of the ravine.

As I do, a figure steps forward. Tall and lean, with skin that glistens like stars, and eyes that are as dark as night. Black wings unfurl behind him, slow and lethal, stretching and folding like the sweep of a predator who’s just located its prey.

And apparently, that prey is us.