Chapter Sixteen
Sage
I try not to think about Kayden while we prepare for the Assembly—arranging the house, setting out multi-species snacks and drinks.
Same as I tried not to think about him last night. And failed.
Even with him gone all day, it's like my mind keeps short-circuiting back to him. To that moment between us. To all the moments before.
I wanted to give in. Every nerve ending in my body was begging for it. And it would've been so easy—just tip forward and let the fall happen. Let him catch me in that wild chaos of his, teeth and smirk and hands that know exactly where to press.
I've spent most of my life fighting off control—my family shaping my future like I was some investment portfolio, curated and arranged. I left all that behind. I ran. I made freedom my god.
But there's something in me… something that still craves surrender. Just for a moment. To hand the reins to someone else. To stop deciding, stop running.
And Kayden makes it tempting. That dangerous, magnetic energy like a storm you want to step into.
Asher too, with his calm, commanding strength. His structure and certainty. I could wrap myself in it and forget the world outside.
But would I ever come back from it? Would I still know how to stand alone? That's the real danger. Not just bringing my chaos into their lives, but letting their gravity become the thing that anchors me. And not wanting to leave. That part scares me more than anything.
I could at least give Kayden what he wants. Tell him the truth he's been digging for. It wasn't just tactics that night at the club. I felt something.
The moment he kissed me, something sparked—some forbidden thread of connection that went deeper than I could explain. I let him bite me not because he tricked me, but because I wanted it.
I could tell him that. But then what excuse would I have left to keep saying no? And if I do tell… how long until I tell them everything else?
I need to get out of here. Before this stops being a hiding place, and starts feeling like home.
"They're arriving soon," Asher says as we finish setting up the living room. "We'll start with introductions. Then I'll give you the floor."
He hasn't mentioned Kayden all day. I haven't either. The silence feels loaded, but I leave it untouched.
"All right," I say, adjusting a throw pillow like it matters.
"If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just let me know," Asher adds, his tone softening.
"Thanks. I'll be fine." I glance up at him. "I trust you."
It hits me as I say it. I mean it.
I trust Asher. That rare kind of trust that settles low and quiet because they've earned it.
He smiles, something real flickering in his eyes just before headlights sweep through the window.
A car door slams, and seconds later the front door bursts open like someone kicked it for fun. A woman strides, red curls bouncing, freckles everywhere, and a grin like we've been best friends in a past life.
"Hi! You must be the mystery girl I've heard so much about," she beams, clasping both my hands in hers before I can process a thing. "I'm Donna. Donna Bright. But don't hold that against me."
I blink, thrown by the whirlwind.
Asher steps in with an amused edge. "Harlan Bright is the mayor. Donna's his daughter."
"Oh, she doesn't know the local politics yet?
" Donna perks up like this is delightful.
"Great. No bias. Well, except for the vampire part, but hey, we're working on that PR.
I'm not the 'grr' type, if you know what I mean.
" She bares her teeth in a goofy imitation of a snarl, then shakes her head.
"Asher here keeps us in line, so my dad lets us stay.
Discreet, well-behaved, and mostly harmless. "
It's a lot: fast, friendly, unfiltered. I like her instantly.
"It's really nice to meet you," I say with a smile. "And… get to know so much about you right away."
Donna laughs. "Yeah, people say I talk a lot, but it's all interesting, so I figure it balances out."
"It does. I already feel more informed," I admit.
"See? She gets it." She spins toward Asher. "Do you have those sesame chips like last time?"
"On the table," Asher replies, not missing a beat.
"You eat chips?" I ask, surprised.
Donna's already snatching a handful. "I'm a newer vamp. Taste buds haven't gone entirely numb yet. It's kind of the dream—eat whatever you want, never gain a pound. High-key obsessed with jalapeno popcorn right now."
I chuckle. "I guess that is the Bright side of vampirism."
Donna freezes, then laughs so loud it startles me. "The Bright side. Oh, she's funny. Asher, good pick."
He doesn't respond, but I catch the way his lips twitch, and suddenly I feel just a little more like I belong.
Before either of us can comment on Donna's chip obsession, the door opens again.
Another woman walks in first, tall and sharp, moving with the quiet confidence of someone who's seen her share of battles.
Half of her blonde hair is shaved close to the scalp, the other half styled into a loose, messy fauxhawk.
Her eyes are a piercing, ice-blue, more assessing than friendly.
Without a word, she nods to Asher, then to me, and heads straight for the drinks table. Grabs a beer like it was meant for her.
"Astrid?" I hazard a guess.
She gives a curt nod. "The one."
"Thanks for the clothes," I offer, trying to be polite.
"Don't mention it."
No extra words. No smile. Not unfriendly, just efficient. A warrior through and through.
Then a young man behind Astrid steps in.
Late twenties, maybe. His long black hair is tied back loosely, and there's something calm and grounded in the way he holds himself.
Warm-toned skin, sharp cheekbones, and thoughtful eyes.
He wears a soft gray flannel and jeans, a quiet contrast to Astrid's tactical vibe.
"I'm Tomas Chaska," he says with a polite nod. "You can call me Tom."
"Pfft," Donna says, munching on a chip. "Nobody calls you 'Tom,' Tomas. Ever."
He only smiles at her words.
So, this is the vampire Asher turned. There's a faint rhythm to the way he speaks—measured, deliberate. I catch the respectful distance in how he introduces himself.
"Nice to meet you, Tomas. Asher mentioned you," I reply, opting for Tomas despite his invitation.
"He hasn't told us a thing about you," Astrid cuts in, voice dry as gravel.
"All in good time, Astrid," Asher says smoothly. "We're still waiting on the others."
Almost on cue, the front door swings open again.
Jace enters first, a little more subdued than before.
He gives me a glance and a quick nod before heading straight for the couch.
With him comes a woman who looks like she walked out of a windswept forest—long ash-blond hair, soft gray eyes, and a floaty, absent expression.
She moves like fog. Gentle, but not harmless.
She drifts up to me and touches my hand lightly.
"I'm Eira," she says, gaze sweeping me slowly from head to toe.
The banshee.
"Nice to meet you," I say, careful with my tone.
Eira tilts her head. Her pupils narrow. "Your aura… it's alive. So alive." She breathes out. "It's unusual."
I stiffen. "Is that… a bad thing?"
She shakes her head slowly, backing away like I've startled her. "No. Just… rare."
Without another word, she floats over to the edge of the couch and sits with a glass of sparkling water, watching everyone with that otherworldly focus.
"All right," Asher says, stepping toward the center of the room. "You've met Jace before, and now the rest of the inner circle—"
The door slams open again.
Kayden.
He stalks in with boots muddy, shirt splattered with something that doesn't look like wine. His eyes scan the room, bright with a dangerous kind of glee.
"Oh, you started the kumbaya circle without me?" he drawls.
Donna sighs and shovels more chips into her mouth. Tomas visibly tenses. Astrid doesn't bother hiding her sneer.
"He's still here?" she mutters under her breath.
"Is that…" Donna points with a chip. "Blood? On your shirt?"
Everyone looks. Yeah. It's blood.
Kayden glances down lazily, then shrugs. "Huh. Guess it is."
"Did you kill someone?" Astrid demands, already sounding tired of him.
"Hard to say." He grabs a glass and pours himself a drink with theatrical flair. "Could've been a raccoon. Or something bigger. Who really knows?"
And then he looks directly at me. The heat in his gaze lands like a punch.
Astrid turns toward Asher. "Really?"
Asher's jaw clenches. "Kayden," he says, his voice sharp, warning.
Kayden lifts both hands. "What? Am I ruining your prayer group? Sorry, I forgot to bring the candles."
"Just get your drink and sit down," Asher says coldly. "Or leave. We're here to help Sage."
Kayden zips his lips in mock solemnity and tiptoes exaggeratedly toward an empty armchair, throwing himself into it like a lounging cat with blood on its claws.
"You know," Donna says gently, her voice soothing, "you really should give your brother's program a shot. It rebalances you. Centers you. Helps with… the urges that can get a little overwhelming."
Kayden lifts his brows, mock sincerity dripping from every syllable. "Oh, now that you say that, of course. I should totally give it a whirl. Light some incense, align my chakras, and suck all the fun out of my immortal existence."
Donna winces. "It's not about sucking the fun out, it's about—"
"Still wouldn't fix the fact that he's a giant pain in the ass," Astrid mutters, cracking open another beer and glaring like she's considering using the bottle as a weapon.
Kayden salutes her with his drink. "Aw, you do think about me in your spare time, valkyrie."
The tension hums louder. He's getting under their skin. Maybe that's the point.
I glance around the room again, more deliberately this time. Trying to understand what Asher has built, and how fragile or fierce the foundation really is.