Updated Apr 13, 2026 • ~4 min read
Chapter 24: The Final Strike
Oliver
Oliver insists on staying conscious long enough to confirm the Collector is actually gone—not just banished temporarily but permanently removed from reality—because his paranoia has been validated too many times during this case to trust apparent victory.
“The banishment is permanent,” Morgan confirms, examining the space where the Collector disappeared with professional thoroughness. “The void doesn’t give things back. Nathaniel Thorne is gone.”
“And the stolen witch legacies?” Sage asks, still leaning heavily on Oliver because the power reversal took everything out of her.
“Dissipated back to the universe,” Rowan says, tracing magical residue that Oliver’s sensitivity can barely detect. “They couldn’t return to their original witches—most are dead—so they just… released. The magical ecosystem will absorb them naturally.”
“So we actually won,” Oliver says, and it still doesn’t feel real.
“We actually won,” Sage confirms, and through the bond Oliver feels her exhaustion mixed with disbelieving joy.
They make it back to Salem in Morgan’s car—none of them are in condition to drive but Morgan insists she’s the least magically depleted—and by the time they reach Thornwood Occult, word has spread through the magical community.
The Collector is dead. The witch hunter who terrorized practitioners for two centuries is gone. Sage Thornwood and her allies won.
Oliver’s phone is flooded with messages from Daniel—increasingly panicked until Oliver confirms they’re alive and successful—and Sage’s shop has people gathering outside, witches from covens across New England coming to thank her, to celebrate, to witness the witch who finally ended Nathaniel Thorne.
“I don’t want to deal with people,” Sage mutters, but she’s not actually annoyed, just overwhelmed.
“Then don’t,” Morgan says, activating wards that will keep everyone out. “You’re allowed to rest. The celebrations can wait.”
They make it upstairs to Sage’s apartment, and Oliver helps her to bed despite her protests that she’s fine, and through the bond he can feel that she’s absolutely not fine—exhausted, magically depleted, emotionally wrung out.
“Stay with me,” Sage says, pulling Oliver down beside her.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” Oliver assures her, wrapping his arms around her carefully.
Through the wall, they can hear Morgan and Rowan talking quietly, discussing logistics of cleanup and notifications and all the practical details that come after saving the world, but Oliver tunes them out, focusing entirely on Sage.
“We survived,” Sage says quietly, like she’s still processing the fact.
“We did,” Oliver confirms. “And you were incredible. That reversal—Sage, I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“My grandmother taught me,” Sage says. “She always said that the best defense against absorption magic is turning it back on the caster. I just… never thought I’d actually have to use it.”
“You saved all of us,” Oliver points out. “If you hadn’t reversed the drain—”
“We’d all be dead,” Sage finishes. “But I didn’t do it alone. You kept me conscious through the bond. Morgan and Rowan held the binding. It was all of us.”
“Team effort,” Oliver agrees, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
They lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both processing the fact that they don’t have to fight anymore, don’t have to plan for survival, don’t have to worry about immortal entities hunting them.
“Oliver?” Sage says quietly.
“Yeah?”
“That date you promised. I want it. Soon. Not because we almost died, but because we didn’t.”
Oliver feels warmth bloom in his chest, feels through the bond that Sage means it—she’s ready to try, ready to build something beyond crisis and survival.
“Tomorrow,” Oliver promises. “If you’re feeling up to it. Somewhere nice. You’ll complain about dressing up, I’ll tell you you’re beautiful—”
“I’ll threaten to hex you,” Sage continues, smiling against his shoulder.
“And I’ll grin because I know you won’t,” Oliver finishes.
“It’s a date,” Sage says, and through the bond Oliver feels her contentment, her hope, her love.
They fall asleep like that, wrapped around each other, safe in a way they haven’t been since this whole thing started, and when Oliver dreams, it’s of futures that no longer feel impossible.
In the morning, they wake to find that the magical community has declared them heroes, that Detective Rivera wants statements, that the media (both mundane and magical) wants interviews, and that their lives are about to get very complicated in entirely new ways.
But for now—for this moment—Oliver just holds Sage and lets himself feel grateful.
They survived.
They won.
And now they get to find out what comes next.
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