Page 260 of Starside

Slowly, his gaze drops to my blade, coated in his silver godly blood, before sliding back to mine.

And then he does something unexpected.

He grins.

He’s supposed to be dying.

My hands tighten on the hilt. I push the blade in farther, releasing another torrent of silver, but he only steps toward me, skewering himself, his eyes never leaving mine.

His mouth nearly reaches my lips, as if he could kiss me like this, but I stumble back until my spine hits the wall. Until my wrist, still gripping the hilt, hits his chest.

My sword is entirely through his heart.

He only grins wider.

“Did you think that would kill me?” he says, tilting his head. He looks amused. He looks enraged. He looks enraptured. My hands are covered in his blood. “I am death.” My breath catches in panic as he leans toward me. “You’re going to need to try a little harder than that, Aris.”

“I will,” I spit, my words firm, conviction rooting in my very core.

If he is the only thing standing between me and seeing my family again, I will try for the rest of my life. I will make it my only waking purpose.

“I look forward to it,” he drawls. Then his silver gaze hardens. “Did you mean it? What you said?” he demands, leaning toward me. He says it like he needs to know. Like it’s the most important thing in the world.

I don’t answer him.

I don’t do anything but slip out of his grip, taking advantage of his distraction. Then I reach for his sword, still on the ground where he threw it—

And I take it.

I don’t miss the sharp inhale behind me, of Raker realizing what I’ve done. I can move his sword.

It all makes sense now. Why Raker was so miserable and cruel from the start. Why, just when we would make progress, he would burn it to ashes. Why he’s always tried to keep a firm distance between us.

He knew the risk of falling in love.

And what it would cost him.

I look back, and our eyes lock. His are wide and full of surprise. Like he had been keeping some truths from himself too. My blade is still buried in his heart.

Stellaris.

My sword cuts completely through his body, and into my fist. It’s covered in glimmering silver blood. He curses, reaching toward me, calling my name—before he collapses.

He might be a god, he might be death, but a hole through his chest has to fucking hurt.

I don’t know how much time I have until he’s up again. I don’t hesitate. I put his sword into the scabbard.

And then I run like hell.

My dragon is waiting for me, surrounded by the broken pieces of the god’s arch, standing next to my claimed cup of magic. I grab the goblet, mount my dragon, and then we’re off. My heart is beating too quickly.

Did you mean it? What you said?

He seemed more concerned about my words than my sword sticking out of his chest.

I wish I didn’t say them. I wish I didn’t mean them. But the proof of what we feel for each other is in these very blades.

Great swords meld to your soul. To your heart. And when you let someone into it … they can take what’s yours.