Page 45 of The Stars

They both smiled. “Is anything real?” Venus asked.

“Love is real,” Aphrodite countered. “You feel it in your bones. Every time you watched your mate perish, you lost a piece of yourself until you forgot who you were. What you were fighting for. It’s time to wake up. To remember. Love for your mate is the catalyst. It always has been.”

“Sister.” Venus nodded. Then the pair of them moved so quickly towards her, she had only to blink and they were on either side of her.

“Wake,” Venus said, brushing her lips across Amy’s.

“Wake,” Aphrodite said, and then once more Amy’s lips were kissed.

Pain shot through her body as she was engulfed in a bright light. She closed her eyes as it consumed her.

“Remember,” they both said as everything burst into flames.

What seemed like minutes passed by as she learned to relax into the pain, accepting it and the images and memories flashing behind her closed eyelids.

When the pain and the light dimmed, she opened her eyes and realized she was alone and, to her great surprise, still floating above the dark sea.

Looking around, she spotted a few small fires in the distance and pointed her body towards them. Thankfully, whatever flying power she possessed, she didn’t need the manual to control it. She zipped through the air quickly towards the campfires, which were obviously on the outskirts of the town.

She spotted the temple where they’d been exiled and, without a sound, she touched down on the balcony.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

She swallowed hard as she made her way back into her room, her throat dry and tight as if she’d been screaming. Her pulse was still racing in her ears, a dull, frantic drumbeat that refused to slow. She stilled for a moment after stepping fully into the bed chamber, her eyes adjusting to the dimness.

Then her gaze locked onto Dante. He was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his features peaceful. In the darkness, he looked almost otherworldly—strong, powerful, and so much more than the man she had known him to be. But there was something tender in the way his brow softened as he slept, something vulnerable that tugged at her heart.

She watched him for what felt like an eternity, her heart aching with the memory of all those lifetimes, of all the times she had watched him die. She wondered if he dreamed of those same battles, of the pain and loss they had endured together. Did he know how many times he had sacrificed himself for her? Did he remember the way they had fought for a future that never seemed to come?

She reached her hand out, brushing lightly against his arm, and for a moment she hesitated. She didn’t want to wake him. He looked so peaceful, so free from the burdens of their past. But at the same time, she wanted to pull him close, to hold him and remind herself that he was still here—that this time, maybe things could be different.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she crawled back into bed and wrapped him in her arms. The fear of losing him again was overwhelming.

But even as it threatened to consume her, there was a small flicker of hope. Dante was still with her. They had another chance, another life, another opportunity to change things. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

Amy let out a soft, shaky breath, her hand lingering on his arm. “I won’t let you die this time,” she whispered, the words barely audible in the stillness of the night. “I love you too much.”

As she lay there, watching him sleep, the weight of their past lives, their future battles, and the fate of the world kept her from falling back to sleep.

She would fight for him, for them—for a future where they wouldn’t have to say goodbye anymore.

When the sun started to lighten their room, Dante rolled over, his eyes sliding open slowly.

“Morning,’” he said as his hands moved over her.

“I can fly,” she blurted out.

He blinked a few times and then sat up. “Okay,” he said slowly. “In your dreams, you mean?”

She shook her head as she sat up next to him. “No, last night. I… met Venus and Aphrodite. About a mile offshore.” She motioned towards the balcony.

He ran his hands over his face. “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”

“You glow blue and fought off a god,” she pointed out.

“Okay.” He nodded. “God, why can’t there be any coffee here?” He rolled his shoulders. “Have you tried to fly again?”

She stood up and without exerting any effort, lifted off the ground until her head almost touched the ceiling.