Page 113 of The Starlight Savior

She held out her fingers, calling upon the stars. From the sky, a tendril of light collided with the tip of her pointer finger. Conor quickly sucked in the cooling air migrating into their space. Before she could encompass the light in her palm, it sputtered out.

“Wow,” he breathed, “it’ll take time for your magic to regenerate, but it’s amazing you’re even able to accomplish that. Burnout usually drains you for days.”

“I suppose I’m lucky.”

“Or maybe the stars regenerate your magic too.” His finger trailed his chin in thought. “You did the right thing, telling me. I know the priestess has equal distrust in the kingdom, but I swear I will prioritize this over any oath or promise.” His voice lowered. “No one can know or see you use this magic, got it? Not yet.”

“Because I’m dangerous?” Saige said with a small voice, letting her fears seep through. She hadn’t let herself think of that yet. But it was written in the book. She’d seen the raw ancient magic with her own eyes.

“You aren’t dangerous,” he said softly. “But you could be. My father and the king could make you dangerous.” His head dipped until she could smell the spices lingering on his lips. “I won’t be letting that happen.”

“How would you be able to stop him? The full moon is approaching. They’re expecting a show, aren’t they?”

“You’ll demonstrate your magic, but it doesn’t mean we have to confirm it’s Sydera’s bloodline. Just as the priestess said, there is no true way of testing it. You stumbled upon pure luck.”

“Huh.” Saige drew her knees into her chest, resting her head on them. “So now what?”

“We wait for your magic to replenish, and we begin to train.”

“We?”

“You can’t train with Tobin anymore. The moment you show this kind of magic…it will be widely known that you are not an average witchling. King Vospella’s court will begin to understand how extraordinary you truly are. You need more control before that happens.”

“You think they’ll let you train me?”

“To them, you are my assignment.”

Saige attempted to hide her wince, yet her face faltered. A piece of her knew that she was not just an assignment to Conor. Whether he viewed her as a friend or…something more, the trust between them occasionally felt orchestrated. Simply because he was expected to be around her. Report what she did, document her progress.

“Don’t do that,” Conor said softly. His hand reached out, finger under her chin. She flinched by the sudden touch.

“Do what?” Her voice was breathless, chest clenching as she looked past Conor instead of into his silver eyes.

“Think that you mean less to me than you actually do. Yes, my father assigned your wellbeing to me. Because of my abilities and my knowledge of Oscar’s letters. That means nothing to what I want from you every day. The time I wish to spend with you. I don’t sit by your side, hold your secrets, or help you become the person you are meant to be because you are assigned to me.”

Tears blurred Saige’s vision. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think of what she wanted to say to him. Each word he spoke nestled into her chest, beating to the rhythm of her heart until the heaviness transformed into something else. Equal in weight, but different.

Gratitude.

So she did the one thing that flooded her mind. With his finger still under her chin, demanding her attention, Saige leaned forward. Blinking away the tears, she let them fall down her cheeks so she could see him. There was no control in her limbs as she reached up, cupped his face, feeling the stubble of his cheek, and pressed her lips against his.

Chapter 42

There was once a time when Saige rarely dreamed of embracing another person. There were single moments with Hadeon. Sharing a kiss or a dance. She hadn’t allowed herself that comfort again, her magic standing in the way of her true desires. The risk of burning bright was too great. But that fear no longer lingered. With Conor, her magic was depleted, replaced by a tingling warmth spreading across her skin, flowing through her veins and tumbling deep into her gut. Indescribable. Something she’d truly never felt before.

Conor’s lips were soft against hers. Saige didn’t know how to move her mouth or position her body, so she simply moved closer. The longing to feel her chest pressed against his consumed her. But suddenly, his lips were gone, leaving air between them. His widened eyes were unreadable, his dark hair slightly tousled and wild.

Saige scrambled back, heat flaming her cheeks.

“Sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I did.” Her face fell into her hands, mind and heart lurching in different directions. Saige didn’t have the words to describe what she felt towards Conor. What she did know was that she had wanted to kiss him since the gala. He was handsome and kind. Slightly overprotective and deceitful. Yet she felt safe with him.

Or she did. Now she couldn’t stop replaying his frozen lips and wide eyed stare.

“No, no, no,” Conor murmured, closing the space between them. He grabbed her hands, pulling them away from her face. “This is a misunderstanding.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Clearly. A very big misunderstanding.” She tried to pull her hands away, but his grasp wouldn’t let her go. Of course he didn’t think of her this way. She was his assignment, a friend among the sea of witches flocking to Athalos.

“Saige,” he said sharply. “You are misunderstanding my reaction. You think I don’t like you? Want you? I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw your magic burst in your quarters and realized you weren’t anything like the girl described in your father’s letters. From the moment I held on so tight I didn’t mind the burn as long as you were safe in my arms. I’m simply surprised. I didn’t think you…” He shook his head. “Would want that. I would’ve never wished to push for something you didn’t want, and you’ve made it incredibly clear exactly what that is.”