Page 152 of The Starlight Savior

Inhaling deeply, she pushed the visions of death swarming her mind, instead venturing into all the days she’d spent grounding. All the lessons that soothed the thoughts drowning in her head, no matter how tedious of a practice it became. Her light would be like roots, flowing from her body and into the ground below. She imagined it exactly how she practiced, focusing on the feeling of the mist, the energy that it pushed out. That is all it was anyways. Energy. From the deities, from the elements, from her blood.

“Argh!” Saige shouted as her body slammed to the ground, her light diminishing. Her head thunked hard against the dirt.

“Stop,” Hadeon hissed from above, holding her down. “I can’t let you do this!”

“Hadeon,” Saige croaked, the air sucked from her lungs. “You don’t even understand what I’m doing.”

“You’re a fucking leech! Draining the land of more energy, hypnotizing my friends. My brother.”

“B-Baron chose to come. To save Opela.”

“You will damn Opela if you do this.” He gritted his teeth, spit flying on Saige’s face. There was no use in trying to speak to him, his anger too deep, ingrained in his breath and bones. “I’m glad I no longer love you. Tiranos can have you for all I care.”

Something sharp stabbed her stomach.

At first, she thought it was the hatred laced in his words. But hot liquid blossomed against the fabric of her shirt.

She looked down.

A silver dagger stuck out from her belly. A shaky gasp trembled through her. Hadeon had stabbed her. All of this was a twisted nightmare, even as she looked upon the cold face of the man she once lusted over. Dreamt of dancing in his arms until the loneliness was relieved.

“I understand now why you rejected me day after day. Keeping me enthralled. Controlling my mind and heart like the wench you are.”

Saige tried to shake her head, but his elbow was tight against her chest. She raised her hand, reaching for him, but he only pressed harder. Gripping Hadeon’s forearm, she drew her magic forward.

Hadeon yelped back in surprise at the sudden burn from her touch. Using all her strength, she pushed against his chest, fueled by starlight. Hadeon’s body was flung across the field, slamming into a row of soldiers.

She clutched at her stomach. The dagger in her gut itched to be removed, but she knew enough not to pull it out yet. She didn’t have time to bleed out.

Another echo of hooves thundered against the dry land. She couldn’t see the field beyond the Brevillian and Tiranos army as more soldiers poured into the field.

Too much was going on as danger threatened to smother them. Baron and Conor fought swiftly through the crowd still as the water-wielders tried to get their hands on Saige. But Althea stayed by her side. With a swipe of her dagger, she retreated and drew soldiers back in, burying the blade into exposed skin.

But there was no way for Saige to protect her friends. No way to protect herself.

This is what it had meant for her to transform into a weapon. She was diminished down past being, past witch, past her identity. All that mattered was her starlight, not the life she so badly craved. Yet it was under her terms. Not Etrane’s. Not Tiranos’s.

There would be no more death staining her hands.

The sky lit up with a crackle of lightning. Saige’s gaze shot up to see Conor shooting his magic into the air. The newest cluster of soldiers came closer upon the group, but Saige was surprised to see no green or black scales swimming in the sea of beings.

Instead they sported silver armor and purple uniforms.

“H-How?” Saige shouted as the Etrane army edged closer to the river. Some galloped on horseback. Others ran on foot, sparks of magic and storm flowing from open palms.

“I suppose they came to help.” Conor sent out another burst of lightning, signaling for his father’s forces to join them.

Two wielders sporting shiny wolf-shaped helms ran at them. The larger of the pair took them off, letting out a guttural howl. Sebastien’s hair shook against his shoulders as his nose was raised to the sky. His men trailed closely behind them, but there were no weapons in their hands.

The Etrane army rushed into the mob of mortals and water-wielders threatening to take down Saige and her companions. Conor’s father raised his sword, lightning dancing across the metal. Fear swelled in the air as the stakes of battle grew. The dynamics had shifted. It was no longer two armies against four beings. Brevil was dramatically outnumbered in power, but Saige knew King Brennus nor Queen Anya would back down.

Sebastien and the warlocks behind him crouched down, backs arching and necks rolling. A metallic scent filled the air, like sweat and blood. Gasps and cries of anger echoed through the crowd as the men transformed into something otherworldly. Their limbs cracked and extended until each of them stood on all fours. Clothes shredded away, and smooth pale skin was replaced by thickening fur. Their eyes glowed in the brightness of the moon, ears perked and quivering to every sound. Faces shifted, their snouts rose to the sky, a guttural howl released across the plain.

A fraction of the Etrane army were wolves.

Gigantic beings with thick fur and snarling teeth. Saige knew little of Silva’s magic. Only that they were rare shifters, passed down through the bloodline instead of an element to wield.

“The northern clans,” Saige murmured. Sebastien had been negotiating with the northern territories, where Conor and he had grown up. But that meant…