Page 131 of The Starlight Savior

They clearly did not.

Instinctually, she curled closer to Conor, wanting to hear the sound of his heartbeat. It had been ten years since she had heard another’s life force. When she was a child, she would rest her head against her mother’s chest and listen to the thump until she fell asleep. Saige hadn’t realized how badly she craved it. Conor was still asleep, even as his arm fell loosely around her body. She relished in it.

Why did the circumstances of the mist have to bring all the joy Saige had been searching for? Lying here, all she wished was for a life of rest. Of peace. Knowing how much she had to work for it was exhausting. Etrane was in a lucky spot, not quite absorbed into war yet. But a single thought thrummed inside her. It will all be worth it.

Saige’s hand drifted around Conor’s back, trailing up the side of his tunic. Her hands reached under, hoping to feel his skin. But Conor’s body went rigid. His hand flew to Saige’s, hard and rough.

“S-Sorry,” Saige stammered, shifting backwards to give him space.

“Oh.” Conor breathed out a sigh. “You’re awake.” His arms reached out for her, bringing her closer. Saige exhaled as one hand gripped tightly around her hair.

“Thank you,” Saige said with a shaky breath, “for helping me. I don’t think I would’ve made it back without—”

“Always.”

Tears welled to the surface as she pressed her ear against his chest, his heart a steady rhythm. Her life felt like a never ending wave of anguish and pain. Mental and physical. She had begun to find herself grasping at the slivers of joy. Moments that she hadn’t allowed before. Was it enough though?

“I couldn’t do it,” Saige whispered into his shirt.

“What?” Conor pulled away, eyes wide and searching. “Do what?”

“I was practicing with Niana. She was helping me figure out how I might use the river. But I couldn’t do it, even when it sat right in front of me.”

Conor shook his head. “You were injured, Saige.”

“By a little mist? Imagine what would’ve happened at your manor. Imagine me facing that. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” A sob escaped her lips. She pressed her face into his chest once more, hoping he didn’t see the twist of pain alter her features. “I can’t.”

She half expected Conor to mumble, I told you so. But there were no reminders of his attempts to protect her from the pressure before her. He only pressed his lips to the top of her head, murmuring reminders to breathe, to cry it out, to embrace whatever her body was feeling.

“I should’ve never agreed to this,” Saige spoke honestly. “If my father couldn’t do it, how could I? This is bigger than I will ever be. Stronger than I could possibly imagine. And now I’m blood bound by these…these…tasks and duties that I cannot fulfill!” Her fist drove softly into his back in anger. Conor’s body rocked with a chuckle.

“Your father was asked to investigate the mist. To explore any sort of scriptures that could identify how such an ancient curse could be stopped. No one asked him to heal it, to use magic to push it back. He was a storm-wielder, a mind commander, a scholar. He wasn’t a healer. Or extraordinary. Not like you.” He took her face into his hands, his nose brushing dangerously close to hers. “You are the strongest, most powerful, brightest being I know. I can’t imagine how tired you are already, but you have people to lean on. Let us suffer the brunt of your burdens.”

“I do not deserve your kindness,” Saige murmured. His words echoed what Niana had drilled into her in the forest, his tone soft and alluring. She lifted her head, watching as his lips leaned closer to hers.

She met him with a kiss before she could change her mind. At first, Conor’s mouth remained soft against hers. When she tugged herself against his body, arching her back, his lips parted, opening a piece of his soul. A hand reached behind her, grazing dangerously close to her lower back. Her fingers interlaced with his dark curls as she deepened the kiss. Their hearts beat in tandem as his knee slid between her, their legs intertwining.

It was everything she needed to dull the sharp edges of her failure. If she couldn’t be the witch the world needed, couldn’t she have this at least?

Pulling back, she lowered her lips against Conor’s skin. His pulse thundered under her breath as she trailed against the hair dusting his chin. Down the smooth skin of his neck. A wordless sound escaped his throat as she wrapped her arms tighter around his body.

“Come back,” he breathed as he pulled her lips back to his. A hand moved to the back of her head, tangling in the unkempt curls. Mind spinning, she felt heat build in her lower gut. Her fingers traveled down his tunic, landing on the hard muscle flexing beneath the fabric. Just as her hand reached his skin, Conor pulled away with a shaky breath.

“You will always deserve my kindness. Even in moments where we both know you’re being irrational, driven by your fears. Now you need to get some rest,” he murmured against her skin.

Closing her eyes, she allowed his words to sink in, ignoring the disappointment of saying goodnight. She knew she originally agreed to push their feelings aside to focus on the mist. But balancing the two was proving difficult.

“You need all the healing you can get,” Conor continued. His skin was hot as he untangled Saige’s limbs from his, rising from the bed. He smoothed over his clothes, gaze heavy upon her. “I imagine the king has much for us to get done with everything.”

“I know,” Saige whispered. But the thought of this blossoming feeling in her chest left her insides feeling hollow.

Lips brushing over her forehead, Conor smoothed down her curls. For a moment, she wanted to ask if he was sensing her. If he could feel all the confusion and longing from his thumb traveling over her skin. Part of her didn’t want to know the answer.

Chapter 48

Once Saige was alone, restlessness took over. Jaw aching, she forced herself to unclench her teeth. Every time her mind flared to life, her body tensed all over. Miniscule moments confined the spaces of her brain as the mist loomed just across the forest. It was so close to them that she could feel the heart of the treacherous thing. If it consumed Opela, life would cease to exist. No magic. Sydera’s hard work, the deities’ land, would be tarnished.

Through all the anguish and worry, she couldn’t help but miss Conor lying beside her. Her connection to him felt insignificant compared to everything else. Yet she was drowning in this new and foreign feeling. Her energy needed to be spent on the mist.