Chapter 34 REICH
REICH
Iwoke before dawn, the room still cloaked in darkness.
The faintest glow of early morning bled in through the French doors, pale and gray.
For a long moment, I just laid there, breathing in the quiet.
I listened to the slow, steady rhythm of Sage’s breathing beside me—soft and delicate, like the whisper of wind through leaves.
She was still asleep, her body curled toward mine in the most trusting way, her cheek pressed against my shoulder, her hand resting over my ribs like I was her anchor. The heat of her skin seeped into me, a warmth I hadn’t realized I’d been craving until now.
It was dangerous, how much I wanted to stay. How much I wanted to let her keep holding on like this.
But if I didn’t move now, I wouldn’t move at all.
Slowly, carefully, I peeled myself away from her, shifting my weight so the bed wouldn’t creak.
Her hand slid from my chest with the faintest graze, and my throat tightened at the loss.
I ran a hand down her bare back, my fingers trailing along the curve of her spine once more—softly, like I was memorizing it.
I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She stirred but didn’t wake.
It felt… wrong to leave.
But I did.
Because that’s who I was.
I crossed the room silently, grabbing the t-shirt I’d left on the floor and pulling it over my head as I went. My movements were precise. Practiced. Years of slipping out of places unnoticed left their mark. But this wasn’t the same. I wasn’t running.
I wasn’t escaping.
I was just… getting ready for the day.
I slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind me with a soft click. I stood there for a long minute, staring at myself, tracing the faint scar beneath my jaw with my thumb. A ghost from another life. Another version of myself.
The man staring back at me was a stranger.
I splashed water over my face, rubbed the rough edge of my jaw. Shaved. Pulled on dark clothes.
Routine. Clean lines. Precision.
But I could feel it under my skin.
A restlessness.
A hum in my blood that hadn’t been there before.
By the time I made it to the kitchen, the house was already alive with faint sounds. The quiet murmurs of life, carefully orchestrated beneath my roof.
But something about today felt different.
I felt different.
I moved toward the counter, letting instinct guide me. I grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the tap, drank half of it before setting it down.
Then I saw the bowl of fruit on the counter.
Bright, fresh oranges.
I never ate them in the morning. Hell, I rarely ate them at all.
But I grabbed one anyway, tossed it into the air, and caught it.
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.
It felt easy. Effortless.
Lightness settled over me, and it was foreign. Unfamiliar. Like some piece of myself I hadn’t seen since I was a kid had clawed its way back up from the depths.
And then, of course, Castor showed up to ruin it.
He emerged from the hallway, his presence filling the space with the same old swagger and sharp-edged awareness that had always been there. His gaze found me immediately.
Sharp. Calculating. Curious.
His lips curved into a smirk that made it clear he was about to be an asshole.
“What’s going on?” His voice was casual, but there was a thread beneath it. Suspicion.
He was reading me.
He always did.
I raised an eyebrow, catching the orange again before setting it down on the counter. “What do you mean?”
He cocked his head slightly, leaning against the doorway like he had all the time in the world. His arms crossed over his chest; sleeves pushed up to reveal the tattoos inked deep into his skin.
“You’ve got this stupid-ass grin on your face,” he said, nodding toward me. “And unless I’m mistaken, you’ve never had a woman in your bed until this morning.” He tipped his chin toward my room. Making his meaning very clear.
I lowered my head, trying to school my expression.
But it was useless.
The grin slipped through anyway.
Unbidden. Unchecked. Real.
I was happy.
No—more than happy.
I was fucking alive.
The feeling cracked me wide open, and it was dangerous.
But I couldn’t seem to care.
For a moment, it was like I was back in the world before all of this—the one I’d barely dared to remember.
Mom in the kitchen, flour on her hands.
Dad’s laugh booming through the house.
Cas and me in the snow, boots kicking up powder as we raced toward the sled hill.
Mom’s pizzelles baking in the oven.
The twinkling lights of Christmas strung haphazardly over the porch, casting their own quiet magic.
And that last morning.
Before it all changed.
Waking up before dawn.
That warmth—that feeling of being tethered to something real, something good—that’s what I felt now.
Because of her.
I lifted my gaze to Castor’s.
He was still watching me. Waiting.
“I’m just living life, brother,” I said, smirking. “Enjoying the beauty of today before I go to work and do it all over again.”
He stared at me.
And then his face twisted, somewhere between horror and disgust. “Brother? Is that you? Have you gone mental? Do you need a doctor?”
I snorted, flipping him off without looking. “Fuck off, Cas.”
“There he is,” he muttered, shaking his head. But his smirk faded a little, as his eyes began to darken.
And then he was serious, “But really—what the hell possessed you to let Sage into your bed?” His tone wasn’t mocking now.
It was a warning.
“You’re not the type to make reckless decisions,” he continued. “So, what was your thought process there?”
I opened my mouth.
But nothing came out.
How could I explain it? How could I tell him that Sage had pulled something out of me I didn’t even know was still alive? That she made me want something dangerous? Something real?
I raked a hand through my hair, blowing out a slow breath.
“I made a decision,” I said finally.
Cas studied me in silence.
A beat. Then another.
Then he nodded slowly, his mouth pulling into something that wasn’t quite approval. “A reckless one,” he said. But his voice was less judgment now.
He pushed away from the doorway, stretching his arms over his head with a low groan.
“I’m just making sure you’re not being stupid like Keenan.”
The name landed like a brick in my stomach.
Keenan. Reckless. Careless.
The ENA didn’t forgive mistakes like his.
And they didn’t offer second chances. Not ever.
I stiffened, but Cas let it go.
He didn’t press. Didn’t need to.
We both knew the rules.
And the consequences.
Still, I felt it in my chest—the flare of something stubborn. Something primal.
I wasn’t going to lose Sage.
Not to them.
Not to anyone.
Cas shot me a look before turning away, muttering under his breath, but I caught it anyway.
“She’s got you fucked.” He stated.
And he wasn’t wrong.
I watched him leave, my mind already turning toward the next step.
The next move.
The next risk.
After last night—after having her—I wasn’t the same man. I didn’t want to be.
She was mine now.
And I would burn the world down before I let anyone take her from me.
Klay hadn’t called.
The silence was louder than it should have been but I couldn’t focus on that now.
I had to survive this day.
Had to get through it.
So, I could go back to her. To the only place I wanted to be.
And when I got home… I’d remind her who she belonged to.