His little star
His little star
KILLIAN – POV
I lost it.
The moment those shadow-claws sank into her chest, every ounce of control I had shattered. The sound of Astrid’s scream burned into me, tore straight through my bones, through my wolf, until nothing else mattered. I roared, the kind of sound that ripped the night apart, tearing from my throat like fire. Jason’s cry wasn’t far behind, raw and broken, and when I glanced at him—his face—he looked like he’d been gutted. My brother, the one who held everything in so carefully, was crumbling right before me as we both watched her being dragged away.
“No—no, no, no!” Jason’s voice cracked, his claws digging into the ground as if sheer willpower could anchor her to us. He lunged forward, golden eyes blazing with desperation, but the shadows lashed back, curling around Astrid like black serpents.
I followed, fury carrying me, blood screaming in my ears. My claws sliced but met nothing but smoke, useless, infuriating nothing. She was slipping—slipping into that darkness—and my chest constricted until I thought it would split open.
“Don’t you dare take her!” I snarled, voice feral, tearing through every shadowling that dared get between me and her. Blood sprayed, claws cracked bone, but the main one—the one holding her—just kept pulling, unbothered by my rage.
Jason’s hands trembled violently as he reached, his voice breaking. “Astrid, fight it! Stay with us! Please!” His knees buckled, and for a second, I thought he’d fall apart completely.
That’s when Dove stepped in.
Her magic exploded like starlight from her palms, bright and brutal. Threads of white and violet light spun into chains, lashing out and coiling around Astrid, anchoring her body back against the pull of the shadow. Sparks seared the night. Her jaw clenched, sweat beading her temple as she forced more power through herself. “You’re not—taking—her!” Dove screamed, her voice ringing with a force I’d never heard from her before.
Her chains snapped tight. The shadow shrieked, a sound that rattled the air like broken glass. For one wild second, Astrid hung between them—caught in both the shadow’s claws and Dove’s binding light.
And then, out of nowhere, Lillian arrived. Aother witch.
A swirl of silver fire blazed into existence, searing straight through the last shadow beast standing guard. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter—her flames roared with such heat the cobblestones split beneath her feet. She joined Dove’s light with her fire, both forces twisting into a storm of brilliance. Shadows burned, their screams curling into smoke that disappeared into the blood moon sky.
When the last one evaporated, the night fell still.
Astrid’s body went slack, her weight tipping forward. Hera darted in before I could move, catching her with quick, steady hands. Archie was there a heartbeat later, bracing her other side as if they’d both been waiting for this moment.
“Easy,” Hera muttered, shifting Astrid against her, her jaw tight. Astrid’s chest rose in shallow, uneven pulls, sweat slicking her skin. The black glow over her heart pulsed faintly, smoke curling from where the shadow’s claws had raked her.
Jason dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands trembling like he was about to reach for her face, but Dove’s voice lashed out sharp and unyielding.
“Don’t touch her, Jason.”
“You know you can’t” dove added.
He froze, pain tearing across his features. His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but the sight of that smoking mark made his hands fall uselessly to his thighs.
“Let me—” his voice cracked, breaking something inside me, “—let me at least stay with her.”
“No,” Dove snapped. Her hands still glowed faintly, threads of magic wrapping the air around Astrid like a protective net. Her eyes cut to Jason, then me, sharp with unspoken truth. “Neither of you can. Not until we understand what this… curse is doing to her.”
“this isn’t over yet, sooner you would be able to hold her, again.”
Astrid stirred faintly against Hera’s shoulder, eyelids fluttering. Her lips parted, and in a hoarse whisper, she breathed, “Fuck… shit.”
Even now. Even bleeding. The corner of my mouth twitched despite the fury boiling in my gut.
The Headmaster’s voice broke the air, heavy, thunderous with centuries of knowing. His gaze locked not on us, but on Astrid—on the glowing wound over her heart.
“She is more important than any of you realize,” he said, and silence swept the courtyard like a tide. “The Vampire Lord does not merely want her… he needs her.”
Jason’s breath hitched. My fists clenched so tight my claws split skin.
Hera adjusted her grip, voice low but sharp as a blade. “Then he’s not getting her.”
“Come,” Dove ordered, gentler now. She stepped in close, pressing her palm briefly to Hera’s shoulder, steadying her. “Take her to the Healing Bay. I’ll be right behind you.”
Archie shifted his hold, slipping beneath Astrid’s weight to help Hera. Together, the two of them began the slow walk across the ruined courtyard, Astrid limp between them, the faint glow of the lanterns ahead painting her pale skin gold.
Jason’s chest heaved, his eyes glassy, and I knew he was one second away from shattering. I reached out, gripping his arm hard enough to ground him, to keep him from breaking in front of everyone.
The Headmaster’s words echoed in my skull, gnawing, festering.
The Vampire Lord doesn’t just want her.
He needs her.
My wolf snarled, claws scraping against the cage of my ribs.
I didn’t know what the hell that meant. But I knew one thing for certain.
He wasn’t going to take her.
Not while I breathed.
Astrid POV
The morning light spilled through the high windows of the council chamber, soft and golden, almost too normal for how shattered the night before had left me. I sat stiffly at the long oak table, Hera at my left, Dove at my right, Jason and Killian farther down with their jaws locked tight—separated from me by deliberate, painful space.
I flexed my palm under the table, tracing the faint black shimmer of the mark etched there. The place where the shadow’s claws had torn into my chest was smooth now, unblemished. No scar. No pain. Nothing—except the memory of it and the lingering knowledge that I still couldn’t touch them. My brothers. My tether.
I looked up, voice sharper than I meant. “Enough waiting. I want answers.”
The Headmaster stood at the head of the table, his lined face more worn than I’d ever seen it, shadows sunk deep beneath his eyes. At his side, Professor Sera leaned on her cane, her pale eyes gleaming like ice. She studied me a long while before she finally spoke.
“You,” she said softly, her words carrying more weight than any shout, “are the reason the Vampire Lord stirs.”
The room went still. My stomach tightened.
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, trying to sound braver than I felt.
Professor Sera’s lips pressed thin. “Every thousand years, the world births what the ancients called the Little Star. A soul bound with light, capable of tipping the balance between shadow and flame. That soul can banish the Vampire lord —forever. Or…” Her eyes lingered on me, sorrow pulling at the corners. “…or be consumed, feeding it until eternal night reigns.”
I blinked, heart hammering, the words digging under my skin like claws.
“So you’re saying—what? That I’m this Little Star?”
Sera inclined her head. “Yes. And the Vampire Lord knows it. He doesn’t torment you, Astrid. He hunts you. To complete his ascension, to make himself unbreakable. To wield your light as his own.”
The air left my lungs in one brutal rush. The images from the eclipse vision slammed back into me—the Vampire Lord’s towering frame, his eyes like suns bleeding fire, his hand reaching out. Not torment. Not cruelty. Hunger.
“That’s why he marked me,” I whispered, glancing down at my glowing palm. “Why he keeps pulling me under. Because I’m the prize.”
Jason swore under his breath, fists clenching on the table. Killian’s chair screeched back against the stone as he surged to his feet, pacing like a caged wolf.
My throat tightened, but I forced a bitter laugh anyway. “Fuck. Shit. Of course.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Only the faint hum of my cursed mark filled the space, pulsing like a countdown clock no one could stop.