Page 60 of Stolen Star

“Fine,” I mutter, channeling my magic into my Star Disc—Glimmercut,I affectionately remember Riven and I naming it together. “Let’s see what you can do.”

I throw the Disc with all my strength, sending it spinning toward her chest, ready to end this.

She doesn’t dodge. Instead, her hand snaps up, catching Glimmercut mid-flight, her bloodied fingers closing around the edge without cutting her flesh.

Her empty eyes meet mine, and then she’s sending it hurtling back toward me with equal force.

Just like she did, I catch it. And before she can attack again, I dig inside myself, reaching for my water magic, sending a pressurized blast surging at my shadow self’s chest.

She instantly—not with water, but with fire—meets my magic in the middle.

The collision creates a spray of scalding droplets that rain down between us, hissing where they hit the stone.

I switch to ice next, coating Glimmercut’s edge with frost so cold it steams in the volcanic heat before I charge forward, slashing at the twisted version of myself with calculated precision. But once again, she matches me perfectly, her own weapon gleaming with heat that melts my ice.

Through the steam of our clashing powers, I glimpse Riven across the chamber, locked in combat with his dark reflection. Ice and water magic collide in spectacular bursts as he fights with all the skill and power of the Winter Prince.

He’ll be okay. I saw the sheerforceof him while we fought the fire monster together, when he was driven to kill and destroy for his love for me. Assuming his shadow self doesn’t share that love—which is slightly disturbing to think about—I have full faith in him that he’ll come out of this victorious.

Beyond him, Thalia faces her corrupted Maeris, her attacks desperate and wild, driven by grief rather than strategy.

My attention snaps back to my own battle as my shadow catches my wrist, stopping my attack mid-swing. Her grip is like iron, cold despite the infernalheat surrounding us. Up close, her eyes are worse—like looking into empty wells where something vital should be.

I break free with a surge of air magic, pushing her back several steps. But she doesn’t stumble. She doesn’t blink. She just smiles. That same empty, blood-slicked smile from my nightmares.

“Why won’t you speak?” I demand, circling her once more. “What are you trying to tell me?”

She resumes mirroring my movements, silent, waiting for my next attack.

After several more exchanges—each as futile as the last—I stand panting, blood covering my skin from dozens of small wounds that heal almost as quickly as they form.

My shadow remains pristine. Untouched. Untired. Apart from the blood that coated her from the beginning, she’s perfect. Inhuman.

She’s everything I fear I could become.

The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, bringing with it memories of the dark angel, of all the animals I’ve killed since my vampire side awakened, and of Riven’s life force flowing into me as I fought to save him in the Cosmic Tides.

Panic rises in my throat as I stumble back, barely avoiding another slice of my shadow self’s Star Disc.

“You’re not real,” I say again, louder this time, myvoice echoing across the chamber. “You’re what I fear becoming, but I’m not you. I’ll never be you.”

The shadow pauses, her head tilting slightly, as if considering my words.

Then, she raises her fiery version of Glimmercut and throws it, the weapon spinning toward me with deadly precision.

Instead of dodging or trying to deflect it, I lower my arms and stand tall.

“I choose my fate,” I say, staring straight into those empty eyes. “Not you.”

The Disc strikes me, cutting deep across my chest.

Pain explodes through me, fiery agony, cutting deep into my soul. I’m only halfway aware of my scream echoing through the chamber, unsure if I’m truly capable of making a sound as raw and primal as the one I hear. But through it all, I remain standing, blood soaking the front of my clothing. And as the wound begins to heal, Glimmercut—both hers and mine—vibrates.

Gripping my Star Disc tighter, I channel all my elements at once, the power rushing through me so strongly that I can barely see straight.

My air magic lifts me slightly off the platform. Water coats Glimmercut in a shimmering layer, ice sharpens its edges, and finally, I add my star-touched will—the cosmic energy Celeste bestowed upon me.

“You don’t control me,” I say to my shadow self, throwing my star forged weapon one final time.

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