Chapter 50 REICH
REICH
Iwoke with the weight of sleep pressing against my skull, the haze of unconsciousness still wrapped tight around my senses.
My body ached—not the deep, bone-grinding exhaustion I was used to after long nights in the pit, but something different.
Slower. Like my mind and muscles were moving through mud. Sluggish. Off.
But one thing was sharp.
One image burned into my brain like a brand.
Sage. Her face.
Those wild, defiant eyes that had made me reckless from the first moment I saw them.
Fuck.
Pain flared as I flexed my wrists, raw skin catching on leather straps that dug deep enough to sting but not tight enough to keep me down. Sloppy work. Whoever tied me down hadn’t known what they were doing. The knots were loose. Lazy. Careless.
I could break out of them blindfolded, asleep.
And I almost did—until I caught the faintest scent in the air.
Not leather. Not sweat. Wildflowers.
A thin strip of light bled in from beneath the door, weak and pale, but it was enough. Enough to make out the walls. The faint outline of the heavy metal chair beneath me. The scuffs on the concrete floors.
Recognition hit like a freight train to the ribs.
My basement. My pit.
The irony was so thick it made my teeth ache.
I turned my head, as much as I could, and caught movement.
Soft. Deliberate.
A figure detached itself from the shadows, emerging with an eerie kind of grace.
And even before she stepped fully into the light, I knew.
I knew every line of her body. Every flick of her hair. Every breath she took into those perfect lips.
My beautiful wildflower.
The one I was supposed to have let go.
And yet here she was.
Owning the room, I’d built to break people in. Wearing red like sin and moving like she had been born to ruin me.
“Good morning, my light.” Her voice was syrup-sweet, but there was steel buried beneath it.
A taunt. A dare. A promise.
I stared at her.
At the way her dress clung to her like it belonged there. At the gleam in her eyes, sharp and bright and so fucking alive. And then the realization hit me like a blade between the ribs.
She was in control.
Heat pooled low in my gut, hot and sharp, even as I gritted my teeth.
She had no idea what she was doing to me. Or maybe she did.
Maybe she knew exactly what kind of monster she was going to make me into, and this was her vengeance.
She stepped closer.
Slow. Unhurried.
Her bare feet silent on the concrete and when she leaned in, her lips brushed against my ear, and I felt the tremble that ran through her, even as her voice stayed steady.
“Did you have a nice nap?” she whispered, warm breath fanning over my skin.
I exhaled sharply through my nose, jaw clenched tight, “Sage… what the hell are you doing?”
She tilted her head, watching me like a hunter watches prey that’s finally cornered.
“I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me…” She trailed off, lips curving in a slow, wicked smile. “And making it mine.”
For a second, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Because even beneath all the fire and fury she wore like armor, I could see it. The flicker of pain. The hollow ache she hadn’t been able to bury. And it gutted me.
Her voice softened, cracking just a little.
“You saved me from Klay. Even if it was for your own reasons.” She swallowed hard, but her gaze didn’t flinch.
“I get that. I even accepted it. But what I don’t understand…
” She took a breath that shook at the edges.
“Why did you choose to care? To talk to me? Laugh with me? Cry with me? Heal me?” Her throat bobbed as she forced the words out.
“And then you rewired me to you, just so you could leave me?”
I had no words.
None that mattered.
None that wouldn’t make this worse.
She stepped back, fingers ghosting over the doorknob like she wasn’t sure whether to turn it or rip it from the door. “When I first came here and sat in that same chair, you asked me who I belonged to.”
Her voice dropped, low and dangerous, like the calm before a storm.
“I think I finally have the answer.”
Then, softer—and deadlier— “I’m not leaving.”
My pulse hammered against my ribs, but I stayed silent.
Waiting. Watching. Wanting.
She dragged her gaze back to me, her expression unreadable.
“If you didn’t want this,” she murmured, “you should’ve let me finish that drink at the festival.
Should’ve let surfer boy take me home.” Her smile was sharp as a blade.
“Hell, Reich, you should’ve put me out of my misery yourself. ” A breath. A beat. “But you didn’t.”
“Sage—” Her name was a warning on my lips.
But she didn’t wait for me to finish. Didn’t give me a chance.
She slipped out the door with a quiet click, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.
Except for the muffled sound of her sobs on the other side of the wall causing something inside me to snap.
I flexed against the poor restraints, slipping free in seconds.
She needed to learn how to tie better knots.
I shoved open the door, my pulse a war drum in my ears, and found her at the foot of the stairs. Curled in on herself, arms wrapped tight around her legs like she was holding herself together with sheer force of will. She looked so small. So fucking breakable. Like a gust of wind could shatter her.
I sank down beside her, careful, slow, reaching for her hand. Her fingers were cold.
Trembling. I lifted them to my lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against her knuckles, feeling the way her breath hitched.
“Reich… I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her voice was wrecked. Fragile.
“Sage…” I exhaled hard, dragging a hand through my hair, struggling to keep myself steady. “I meant it when I said you were a wildflower. You’re this dainty beautiful thing reaching towards the light after having been so long in darkness… but the problem is, I don’t have any light left to give.”
I closed my eyes for a beat, forcing the next words out. “I only carry shadows. And if you stay, you’ll wither beneath them, because I can’t give you what it is you need.”
She lifted her head slowly, and her eyes—God, her fucking eyes— they were a wildfire.
Fierce. Bright. Unyielding.
“Reich,” she breathed, “without you, I wouldn’t be living. I’d be decaying. Just like I was when you first met me. So, you’re wrong. You give me exactly what I need because what I’ve needed is you.”
Her grip on my wrist tightened. Like a vice. Like salvation.
She continued when I couldn’t speak, “So, if I choose you, I’m choosing my own happiness. To feel alive.”
My chest tightened, something raw and ragged pulling along the inside of my ribs.
Her words wrapped around me like chains.
Constricting. Suffocating.
And yet— freeing me all at once.
“What makes you happy, Reich?” she asked, her voice almost too soft to hear.
“You.” The word came without hesitation.
Without fear.
Her lips parted on a sharp breath. Her eyes flickered with something like hope. “Then why won’t you choose me?”
Her question hit me like a blade to the gut.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay steady. “It’s not that simple, Sage.”
“Then what is it?”
I hesitated. Because once I told her, there would be no turning back.
“I work for some very bad people, Sage. People I committed myself to a long time ago before I even knew you existed.” I swallowed hard. “These people. They go by the ENA.”
Silence. A long, heavy beat.
Then she straightened. Fire in her eyes. “Then leave them.”
I barked a hollow laugh. “You think I haven’t tried?”
“Then try harder.” Her grip on my wrist was bruising now. “There must be a way. Something even you haven’t thought of.”
I stared at her.
At the wild, reckless hope in her eyes.
Hope I didn’t deserve. Hope I couldn’t kill.
“…Okay.” The word was gravel in my throat.
She stared at me, breath hitching and I didn’t let myself think.
I leaned in, pressing my forehead to hers, breathing her in like oxygen. “I won’t leave you.”
I didn’t know if it was true. Didn’t know if I could keep that promise.
But I had to try. Because I couldn’t watch the light fade from her eyes again.
I’d rather it consume me instead.
And it did.
That was the first time I ever lied to her.