Page 157 of The Starlight Savior

Through the light, he saw her head straighten towards him. Her beauty shined brighter than the starlight around her. Lightning danced across his fingertips, reaching towards her bright gaze. He took a step forward, almost tripping over a cowering soldier at his feet.

Her arm reached out in response. An endless stream of magic flooded her palm. It struck nothing, evaporating into the air and merging with the rest of the light around them.

Before he could reach her, the light began to dim. Her body swayed, her head slumping forward. She fell limp before anyone could catch her.

Conor rushed towards her, leaping over crouched bodies. Her magic was extinguished as he knelt before her, pulling her body into his arms.

Normally when he’d touch her, he’d feel the rush of her emotions. Memories would swarm in his mind. He felt nothing as his hand rested over her heart, praying for the familiar beat of her life. It was faint beneath his fingertips. Slow, but still alive.

He let out a soft laugh as he took in the patch of white flowers growing where she had knelt, where her hands had touched. Handprints of petals blooming from her very energy, twinkling as they moved in the wind.

People began to move in around her.

“Step the fuck back!” he barked, even towards Baron and Althea.

Warlocks, witches, and mortals merged into the crowd. All different kinds of armor and uniforms. Silver, blue, purple, green, black. A popping sound echoed around them as the wolves shifted back, their bodies naked and bloody.

It was strange the way the violence completely disintegrated once the light spread across Opela. As if the threat of the mist, the cause of the broken wards, were what fueled all hate and anger. Conor didn’t let his guard down. Anyone could slip by, attempting to punish Saige for her “deceit.” He searched the crowd for the water-wielders, but came up short. He didn’t believe they retreated. They were probably lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on their kill.

A pressure formed behind his eyelids as his gaze landed upon Eva’s crumpled body. The world around them ignored the blood still seeping into the earth from her wounds. The shock of her betrayal to Saige didn’t quite feel real.

For years, she’d been like an aunt to him and his brother. Caring for them when his parents were absent. Reading stories until they drifted to sleep. Sneaking sweet rolls into their pockets.

But the woman sobbing before the water-wielding queen was unrecognizable.

Of course grief had chipped away at her mind and soul, but to trade her niece to Queen Anya? It was unfathomable. The moment he was back in Athalos, he’d demand his father launch a full investigation. Such treachery couldn’t happen right under their noses again.

Niana knelt beside Conor, brushing back blood stained strands of hair from her face. Conor flinched as her hand grazed Saige’s skin.

“They’re going to try and take her,” he whispered. “Tiranos. Brevil. What are we going to do?”

“She needs to be healed first.” Niana looked out at the crowd. Conor wasn’t sure Saige’s mortal friend would be equipped enough to heal such wounds.

Hadeon tumbled forward, a shaking hand still clutching his bleeding nose. “Healed? She’s a criminal!”

“She saved us!” Conor snarled. “The mist that once threatened your very lives, where is it now?” He held her closer to him, stomach churning at the sight of the dagger still sticking out of her gut.

The crowd parted with an electric pulse, swelling with murmurs and shouts. His father moved through the crowd, face sweaty and wolf helm in his arms.

“Hand her over,” his father said, voice cool. “She defied direct orders.”

His grip tightened. The surrounding people leapt back as lightning crackled around him. “She did it, didn’t she? She accomplished exactly what you stole her for. To stop the mist. She should be celebrated, not punished.”

“You have no right to determine that. It is up to King Vospella to decide whether she is worthy enough.”

“Father,” Conor barked, his voice breaking, “it doesn’t matter what the king says or thinks. She did it. When no one else could. We would’ve been damned without her.” He looked towards the people around them, making eye contact with each of them. Even the mortal men, muscles laced with fear and awe. “Right?” he begged.

Niana echoed his plea. “General Zathos, you know she has been training for this very moment. It was unacceptable for her to defy King Vospella’s orders, but she accomplished it nonetheless. She deserves grace.”

Before his father could respond, a second parting caught Conor’s attention. The Brevillian general, the man who murdered Saige’s parents, stepped forward. He recognized him from the vague flashes of memory he absorbed from touching her.

The mortal general didn’t falter at the energy radiating between Conor and his father. Storm magic sizing one another up.

“That girl,” the general spat, “needs to be placed on trial for her crimes against Brevil!”

“Tell me of her crimes,” Conor said coolly, his eyes sparking.

“Using magic results in execution.”