Chapter 9
SAGE
The next morning, I woke to fragments.
Imperfect pieces of memory, floating through the fog in my mind and slipping through my fingers like I was trying to grasp water.
A futile effort.
There was nothing coherent about it.
Just flashes of blurred lights. The echo of bass thudding against my ribs. Lots of hands, eyes, and faces.
But one detail remained sharp.
Sharper than it had any right to be.
The melody.
It threaded itself through the haze, a haunting refrain looping over and over inside my head until I couldn’t take it anymore. Until I had to just leave.
It threatened to pull me back to the night everything changed—the second my world had tilted beneath me and never quite righted itself again.
A weight pressed against my chest.
I gasped, struggling against it, but there was no relief.
No breath.
Only the melody but it was somehow also clouded by the memory of him.
His face emerged from the fog, cutting through it like a blade.
A man with dark eyes and what seemed like even darker intentions.
A man who had stood like an immovable force in a world that refused to stay still.
I tried to follow the thread of memory, but it unraveled in my hands.
Flashing lights. The crush of bodies. The pulse of music thudding louder and louder until it felt like my heartbeat.
And then… just him.
"You shouldn’t take what isn’t yours.” His voice was low and unforgiving.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories of him clung to me and started to trickle back.
His hand on mine, strong but careful.
His arm around my shoulders.
The way his presence had steadied me when everything else had spun out of control.
Not even the music could accomplish that.
Not the crowd of people and feeling of community.
Not even Sam, my best friend.
Just him.
A man I hadn’t even known until that night and yet, he’d been the only thing holding me together in one of my most fragile moments.
***
Later, I met Sam at the café before my shift.
I needed normal.
I needed something grounding.
Java-dence was always busy at this hour and there was something comforting about the noise—the soft hiss of the espresso machine, the clatter of cups against saucers, the low hum of conversations blending into white noise.
It smelled like roasted beans, vanilla and something warmer, something softer that just drew you into its comforting atmosphere.
I settled into a corner table near the window, where sunlight filtered through the glass in lazy streaks.
My hands wrapped around a mug of black coffee, fingers tight on the ceramic, as if the heat could thaw the cold pit that was heavy in my stomach.
When Sam arrived, I spotted her before she reached me.
There was something different about her this morning.
A glow beneath her skin that gave a quiet radiance that hadn’t been there before. She practically floated toward me, all wide eyes and soft smiles.
“You’re positively glowing,” I said, tilting my head as I watched her slide into the seat across from me.
She grinned, cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “I guess that’s what a great man can do for you.”
I smirked, because she was being coy on purpose, probably because I was the one who ruined the whole evening.
“Castor seemed kind,” I offered carefully. Then, after a pause, I added with a dry note, “Not that I remember much. Given my embarrassing exit.”
Sam laughed, and it was light and easy, giving me a smile that told me I didn’t need to worry about what happened.
Like it was already water under the bridge in her eyes.
“Oh, Sage, don’t even worry about that. We all have our moments.
” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze softening.
“And Cas… is amazing. He sees me. Really sees me. I’ve never felt so…
understood. I’m not at all upset we cut the night early to have some time together, uninterrupted.
” She chuckled, then exhaled, her fingers fiddling with the handle of her cup.
“I am just ready to take things to the next level with him.”
There was hope in her voice. Vulnerability.
Before I could respond, she waved it off with a little laugh.
“Enough about my guy,” she said, mischief returning to her tone. “I want to hear about yours.”
I froze for a heartbeat too long. My fingers tensed on the mug.
Why was I so self-conscious?
Why did I suddenly feel like I was caught in a lie I hadn’t even told yet?
The time I’d spent with this man from the crowd clung to me.
Half-remembered.
Half-imagined.
Like a dream I couldn’t quite wake from.
“There’s not much to tell,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “He barely spoke to me. And when I woke up, he was gone. I barely remember much from last night.”
The words sounded hollow.
Like something was missing.
Like I was leaving something out.
And I was.
The whole drink debacle. I certainly remembered my stupidity on that one.
Sam’s expression faltered, just a flicker, but it was there.
She’d expected a different story.
Something exciting and romantic.
Some reckless adventure she could live through me.
“Oh,” she said quietly. Then, after a breath, she added, “Well, Castor mentioned his brother. He’s not much of a talker. He can be... difficult.”
I sat up straighter.
A spark of something sharp lit in my chest.
“His brother?” I repeated the words like they were foreign because they were.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Reich. That’s who was trailing you out of the festival when we found you.”
His name landed heavy.
Solid and unforgiving.
Like the man himself.
I hadn’t even known his name.
And somehow, hearing it made him more real.
More dangerous.
I murmured it under my breath, my fingers tracing the rim of my coffee cup.
Reich.
Why was this stranger leaving such an impression on me?
“I didn’t even know that was his name,” I admitted. My voice was quieter than I intended. Almost reverent, and I hated myself for it.
Sam frowned, puzzled. “Really? He didn’t talk to you at all?”
I hesitated. “All I remember is him in the crowd. He didn’t say much… just seemed like another brooding man but he stuck by me while we were in the crowd.”
I kept my voice steady.
But the unease curling in my stomach was harder to ignore.
I didn’t tell her about the man with the drink.
Didn’t tell her how Reich had appeared from nowhere and taken the danger from my hands before I even understood it was there.
Didn’t tell her how I’d felt safer in his arms than I had in years.
That part was too raw.
Too humiliating.
Another mistake to tuck behind my mask.
Sam scoffed and stirred her drink. “So, that’s Reich, I guess,” she said with a shrug.
But the casual dismissal made something twist in my chest.
Like I was missing something.
Why hadn’t Reich said more?
Why had it felt like we shared something deeper than a fleeting moment?
Was I imagining it?
Was I losing my mind?
Sam’s voice softened, thoughtful. “He’s a mystery. I’ve met him a dozen times, maybe more. He’s polite, but distant. I’ve never seen him with any other women. Now that I think about it… Cas has never mentioned it either.”
I exhaled slowly. “He seemed… standoffish.”
It felt like an understatement.
But she nodded, “That doesn’t surprise me.
The Davidian brothers have always been enigmatic.
People in my office, the ones who’ve lived here their whole lives, they talk about them like they’re some kind of local legend.
” Her voice dropped a little, conspiratorial.
“They moved here after their hometown burned down several years ago and apparently have kept to themselves ever since.”
The words slid under my skin like cold water.
Burned down?
How much of that was rumor?
How much of it was true?
And why did it make something deep inside me recoil?
I glanced at her.
“How did you even meet Castor?”
She never told me before.
Never volunteered much on their history.
She shrugged, but her smile was tight, “He came to my rescue when I was in a... messy situation.”
These brothers seemed good at that.
Rescuing women in messy situations, but they also seemed untouchable, like they belonged to a world we weren’t supposed to enter.
Sam’s voice broke into my thoughts again. “Reich seemed taken aback by you, though.” Her eyes searched mine. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”
I swallowed hard. “I remember meeting him in the crowd,” I said slowly. “Staying close to him.”
But after that…
Nothing.
Only impressions.
The blur of the music.
The feel of his body shielding mine.
The sense of being anchored when I was falling apart, and I didn’t understand why. Why I felt safer with him than I ever had with anyone.
I cleared my throat, forcing something light into my tone. “I probably got dehydrated.”
Sam didn’t look convinced. Which was probably why she said what she did next. “Take care of yourself, Sage. I’m here for you. Whether you want to dive headfirst into the chaos or step back from it. But maybe try to take it easy for a bit, if you need to.”
I smiled, grateful. “I will.”
She met my smile. “And I have no problem keeping your ass hydrated from now on.”
I laughed softly. “Thank you, Sam. I appreciate that.”
Moments later, Castor appeared. The effortless charm radiated from him, like sunlight pouring through cracks. Tousled blonde hair, an easy smile, a kind of magnetism that made people instinctively lean closer.
His gaze flickered between us, amusement flashing behind his eyes. “Trouble in paradise?” he teased.
Sam smiled as I fumbled over my words, suddenly aware of how tangled I was in this Davidian web. “I—I’m sorry if I ruined the evening for everyone.”, turning to Castor, “Please tell Reich I’m sorry, too.”
Castor chuckled, waving it off. “No need. Reich is... private. Don’t take it personally.”
Private.
No kidding.
But how could I not take it personally?
How could I not feel the pull of him, even now, like a current under the surface?
As the conversation shifted to other things, I couldn’t stop the weight of Reich’s presence from settling back into me.
He was a puzzle I wasn’t sure I should solve.
But despite myself—I wanted to try.