SAGE
I’ve noticed that shock does not scream. It hollowed. It carved you out from the inside and left you standing there, breathing, blinking, while your mind scrambled to catch up with reality.
For a heartbeat—just one—I was certain I had misheard her.
Then I saw it. The way the room froze. The way every single face mirrored what was tearing through me.
Catel looked like the ground had dropped out from under him. His mouth parted slightly, his eyes fixed on his sister as if she had grown another face, another mouth speaking blasphemy where love used to live.
Whatever bond he thought they shared fractured right there, audible in the silence.
Claire’s words hung in the air like poison. Do you think you’re the only one with magic?
Her laughter sliced through the stillness, unhinged. It wasn’t the mocking laughter she used to wield so carefully—it was manic now, frayed at the edges. The kind that belonged to people who had crossed a line and decided there was no going back.
The other brides began to retreat. One step. Then another.
They edged away from Claire as though she had grown claws, hands trembling, eyes darting between her and the me. Fear rolled off them in waves. Someone murmured a prayer under their breath.
"Cowards," Claire spat, her voice dripping contempt. "All of you."
Then her gaze snapped to Adam.
"What?" she said brightly. Too brightly. "Aren’t you like me? With magic?"
Daniel and Noah turned as one toward Adam.
Waiting. Demanding.
Adam exhaled, unbothered, as though the room wasn’t on the brink of implosion. He shrugged. "I freed Claire and the brides earlier today," he said calmly. "From the stronghold Sage placed them in."
My head snapped toward him. You did what? How?
Another revelation. Another crack.
Of course he could. The realization settled quickly, slotting into place like a missing piece. His mother had been the true queen of the witch community... So it was possible. Expected even. Maybe his brothers were no different.
Claire’s, however—
I looked at her properly then. Really looked.
I let my gaze move between her and Catel, tracing the familiar dissonance I had noticed even years ago, back when I had been Maya. The subtle differences everyone dismissed. The color of her eyes especially...
Cold understanding slid into place.
I lifted my chin. "No," I said quietly. "You are not like Adam."
Claire’s smile faltered, just a fraction.
"As a matter of fact," I continued, my voice sharpening, "you are not your father’s daughter. Seems you learned whoring from your mother."
The word landed like a slap.
Claire’s expression curdled instantly. "Bitch," she snarled.
Magic exploded from her hands—raw, violent spheres of energy hurled straight at me.
I barely moved. The shields snapped into place on instinct, absorbing the impact with a dull thrum that rippled through the air. The force was impressive. Stronger than most witches her age.
Interesting.
Catel’s voice broke. "Claire... is it true?"
She turned her head slowly toward him, eyes gleaming. "You really are a fool," she said softly. "I lost count of how many times I wanted to kill you for being weaker than me. If not for Mother’s interference, you’d have been dead long ago."
Catel bowed his head.
Something inside my chest tightened—not sympathy exactly, but a hollow recognition. Betrayal left the same scar no matter who wielded it.
Then the air shifted. Cold slid down my spine. They were close. The vampires.
I could feel them pressing against the wards like teeth against bone. Time fractured into sharp urgency.
No more games.
I stepped forward and reached for Claire again, magic snapping around her—
—and she smiled.
Power erupted from her body in a violent surge. Wind howled into existence, tearing through the room like a living thing. Furniture lifted. Curtains ripped from their rods. The air became a screaming hurricane.
Her feet left the ground, her body carried gently by what she had conjured.
She’s about to disappear, El’s voice cut in roughly then. If you don’t grab her now, you lose your answers.
Relief crashed through me at El’s active presence. Thank you!
Around us, people screamed. Adam reached for me instinctively, warriors scrambling forward only to be flung back by the gale.
I tightened my fingers around Adam’s hand for a single heartbeat.
I’ve got this, I told him through the bond. Protect them.
Then I let go, and joined into the wind she had made.
The wind lifted me higher, hair whipping around my face, dress snapping like a torn banner. Instead of fear, exhilaration bloomed in my veins.
I smiled at Claire when we were level with each other.
"Did you really think," I asked lightly, my voice carrying effortlessly through the storm, "that you could stand against an Ancient like me, one touched by the goddess?"
Uncertainty flickered across Claire’s face.
Just for a second.
Then she roared, pouring more power into the maelstrom. Windows shattered outward in explosive bursts. Light fixtures detonated overhead, plunging the room into flickering half-darkness.
I didn’t waste time.
I flung my hands outward and wove a shield around everyone below—thick, layered, ancient runes burning gold as they sealed them inside a cocoon of safety. The hurricane crashed against it and died.
Then I turned fully to Claire.
Gold flooded my vision. Not the soft glow of restraint—but molten brilliance. My magic surged outward, answering my call like a loyal beast.
The air bent. Space compressed. I raised my hands and pulled.
Energy condensed between my palms, spinning, folding in on itself until it became a sphere of blinding light—dense, absolute. It expanded outward and snapped shut around Claire, swallowing her whole.
Her scream cut off abruptly.
Inside the sphere, her magic sputtered, dampened, crushed beneath mine. Whatever spell she was preparing dissolved into nothing.
The storm collapsed. Silence crashed down.
I drew the sphere toward me with a simple curl of my fingers. It floated obediently, Claire’s silhouette thrashing inside like a trapped insect.
With a flick, I dissolved it. Gravity slammed her to her knees at my feet.
She gasped, panic flooding her features as she tried—and failed—to move.
I stepped closer.
"Do you think," I murmured, my voice deadly calm, "you could face me?"
I crouched before her, tilting her chin up with one finger.
"Your magic," I finished softly, "is useless against mine."
Then I placed my hand against her forehead.