Chapter Thirty-Four
Sage
Asher lowers Eira gently into Donna's care, and then we all move toward the front door. Kayden peers out the window, brow furrowed.
"Bunch of blackout SUVs and suits," he mutters. "Maybe a senator's convoy took a wrong turn into the Twilight Zone."
The joke lands like a stone. No one laughs. Not after Eira's scream.
Because this isn't a coincidence.
I step toward the door on instinct, but Asher catches my arm. "Let Tomas and me take point," he says, voice low and clipped. "We don't know what kind of threat we're dealing with."
My pulse spikes. No, they don't.
But I do.
I just don't understand why he'd come himself—or how he even found me so quickly after the misdirection.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and follow as close as they'll allow. Asher and Tomas move out first, Kayden flanking them. I'm just behind, with Jace at my side, Winston and Astrid sliding into position like a silent backline of defense.
Half a dozen sleek black cars line along the curb like wolves in a holding pattern. Engines off. Windows tinted. But the threat still hums in the air.
People stand outside, spaced too precisely to be casual. Each one in fitted black, standing like they're waiting for a command—ready to strike or shield at a second's notice.
Darlene stands near the front, arms folded, gaze locked on the distance like I'm not even there. Johnny's eyes catch mine for half a second, a silent message in their depths. He wants to say something, but can't.
And then—
Darius.
He stands beside the lead car, impossibly tall, shoulders broad beneath a tailored dark suit that looks both modern and timeless.
His shirt is undone at the throat, exposing just enough collarbone to scream both control and indulgence.
Old money wealth clings to him like a second skin.
Power emanates from every still line of his body.
His dark hair is neat, not a strand out of place.
And his moss-green eyes—sharp, patient, unreadable—sweep the crowd before settling on me.
When they land, something flickers in them. Regret. Hunger. Unhinged love? He buries it too fast for anyone else to notice.
"We're closed," Winston says from behind me, tone curt. "If you're lost, we can point the way."
Darius barely spares him a glance. His eyes stay locked on mine.
"I know exactly where I am, Mr. Cole. We're not here for hospitality. Only to reclaim what's been… misplaced."
Misplaced.
The word ignites something inside me—that slow-burning, familiar fury.
Before anyone can stop me, I step forward, brushing off Asher and Kayden's attempts to intercept me.
"I'm fine," I mutter.
And then I walk straight toward him.
"Sage," Darius says with that deep, rumbling voice, arms lowering slightly, like he expects me to fall into them.
I don't.
I swing.
Hard.
My fist connects with his jaw in a satisfying crack. The sound rings out, shocking his guards into motion, hands flying to weapons, bodies shifting into defense.
But Darius raises one hand and stops them cold.
He turns back to me with a smear of blood on his lower lip, which he wipes off with elegant fingers.
He smiles.
"I missed you too."
The rage burns hotter.
I go for another hit, faster this time, but he's faster still. Always has been.
He catches my wrist mid-swing, twists with grace, and pulls me into his space, chest to chest. His other hand slides up to cradle my cheek, a jarring softness in the midst of all this angry heat.
"My fierce nature queen," he says, voice like dark honey.
"Not yours," I spit, struggling against his grip.
His thumb brushes my cheekbone, like I'm something precious.
Like I'm his.
And every part of me—my fury, my instincts, my ache—screams in contradiction. Because I do hate him. But gods help me, I still feel everything.
"How did you find me?" I ask.
"My analysts spotted summer green growth in the area via satellite photos. You've been… busy."
"Well, I've had enough of this bullshit," Kayden growls, voice sharp with menace. He steps forward. "Darius, I presume? Good to meet you. Even better to kill you."
"Kayden, no—" I barely get the words out.
Too late.
He launches himself forward, a blur of speed and fury. But it's like Darius had been waiting. Like the whole damn thing was a setup, and we walked straight into the trap.
Everything detonates at once.
The wind rises in a sharp, unnatural gust, tossing leaves and gravel into the air. The moon flares brighter, casting an eerie, spectral light across the clearing. Darius's eyes ignite with a supernatural green glow, inhuman and terrifying. Kayden is nearly on him when his body jerks mid-air.
Then he collapses. His scream tears through the night. His skin sears, blistering as if under a midday sun. Smoke rises off him. He writhes on the ground like he's burning alive.
"No!" I scream, trying to rush to him, but Darius holds me firm, his grip iron around my wrist. I fight him, but it's no use.
Then it gets worse.
Asher buckles. Tomas follows. Both collapse where they stand, groaning through clenched jaws, their skin boiling under an invisible flame. Their veins glow, pulsing like molten iron. Their fangs are bared in agony.
Donna rushes out of the bar, but the second she crosses the threshold, she crumples to the gravel, her scream joining the chorus of the damned.
It's like the sun has risen just for them—every vampire is burning alive.
Winston and Jace shift. Half-shift, actually. They snarl, fur beginning to break through skin.
And then—
Bang.
Jace screams and drops to his knees, clutching his thigh. Blood pours through his fingers. Johnny stands beside the car, gun steady in his hands, gaze cold and professional.
"The bullets are gold and silver alloy. Electrum," he says calmly. "You know what that means, Winston Cole. One to the heart ends it. And I don't miss."
Winston snarls, lowering himself over Jace protectively, eyes gleaming coyote golden with fury.
And still more chaos ensues.
Astrid, silent until now, lets out a sharp war cry. A sword materializes from thin air, bright steel encrusted with runes. She charges like the valkyrie she is, blade raised, headed straight for Darius.
Darlene intercepts with a gleam in her eye, twin daggers catching the moonlight. Their blades crash in a fury of sparks and sound, dancing across the gravel with deadly rhythm. Neither holds back. They enjoy this.
But I don't.
This is my nightmare. All of it. Everything I ran from. Everything I warned myself against.
"Please," I say, breath hitching. I twist in Darius's grasp, eyes locked on his. "Stop this, Darius. Please."
His expression barely shifts. "I haven't started anything," he says evenly. "It was your… companions… who lunged first. I only defended my people. All I want is to talk."
Talk? Talk? While my people writhe in pain?
"Everyone—stop!" I shout, voice cracking with desperation. "Stop attacking. Just… don't fight. Please."
Astrid pauses mid-swing, her chest heaving, blade trembling in her hands. Darlene grins at her, smug and bloodthirsty, but doesn't press.
The wind stills. The moon dims back to its natural glow. One by one, the vampires stop writhing. Their skin, cracked and blistered, slowly begins to heal. Donna curls in a ball, panting. Tomas drags himself upright. Asher's breathing steadies.
Kayden rises last. His hands shake. Smoke trails from his body, the scent of scorched flesh lingering in the air.
He's snarling, vibrating with rage. "You fucking bastard," he spits, "I'll skin you—"
"Kayden," I hiss. "Don't."
His eyes flash to me, filled with fury and pain, and then to Darius, hatred etched into every line of his face. But he holds.
Barely.
I square my shoulders and meet Darius's gaze head-on, no longer shaking.
"Talk," I demand. "What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted," Darius says, voice rich and low. "You."
My breath knots.
He continues, "I've been looking for you—"
"You hunted me," I snap, stepping back like the words might burn me less if I say them first.
"Sage made it very clear she doesn't want you," Asher interjects, his stance deceptively relaxed, but I see it in his eyes—he's already calculating angles, looking for a way to win.
But there isn't one. Not here. Not against this.
"Yeah," Kayden adds with a scoff, voice cutting. "For such an ancient guy, you're real shit at taking a hint."
Darius doesn't even blink. His gaze doesn't shift. It's on me, fixed and unwavering, like the rest of them don't exist.
"I understand why you ran," he says quietly. "I know that's what you do when things get too intense. But you have to listen to me, there's so much you don't know—"
"Because you lied to me," I throw back, fury curling up from my gut. "Don't try to twist this. I've learned a lot since."
His eyes flick to the crystal necklace at my throat for a second, before meeting mine again, calm and steady, like nothing has changed.
"I can see that," he murmurs. "But you don't need it. Not for me. You never needed protection from me, Sage. I've never forced you. Not once. There are things I didn't tell you, yes, but there were reasons."
Kayden lets out a bark of laughter. "Nice little speech. Do you believe that spiel yourself, goat-boy?"
"Shut up, vampire," Darlene snaps, stepping forward, her twin blades now sheathed but itching for release.
Kayden glares. "Oh, I remember you. You're high on my list of people to kill slowly."
"Try it," she purrs.
"Not now, Darlene," Darius says sharply.
His voice softens again as he turns back to me.
"Sage. My fierce, brilliant nymph. I'll make everything right between us, I swear it.
Next week, we'll be in a resort in Bali or a secluded cabin in Switzerland, drinking hot chocolate, watching the spring rains roll in.
You'll forget this little rebellion and this…
small town barmaid fantasy. This isn't you. It's not who you're meant to be."
I stare at him, disbelief thick in my throat. "I don't want your luxury prisons, Darius. I want my own choices."
"And you can have them," he says gently, his hand rising to brush my cheek. "Choose where we go. Choose what we do. All I care about is us."
His hold on me is unyielding, but the touch is tender, like he genuinely believes this is love, not control. Like he truly thinks this is all just… cold feet. Temporary madness.
"Darius—"
"No," he says. "No more excuses. The time has come, my dearest fiancée." His smile is soft and devastating. "Our wedding is in four days on Spring Equinox. I can't exactly have a wedding ceremony without my bride, now can I?"
The words drop like a blade.
My heart slams against my ribs. My mouth dries.
Here it is. The secret I hadn't told. The part I thought I could explain later, gently, in my own way. But now it's laid bare for everyone to hear, torn from my hands like everything else Darius touches.
Silence crashes down around us.
I turn slowly, dread rising.
Everyone is staring.
Asher's face is carved from stone, but I see the shock there, the betrayal tightening in his jaw.
Kayden's eyes burn with hurt, confusion, and rage.
And Darius, smug and perceptive as ever, follows my gaze and smiles like a dagger slipping beneath skin.
"I see," he murmurs, "you haven't told your… friends… everything."
Shame, helplessness, fury—it all boils up at once like a toxic tide in my chest. I wrench one fist free and slam it into Darius's chest. He doesn't even flinch.
He catches my wrist again, gently this time, his thumb brushing over my knuckles like this is some kind of twisted foreplay.
"You're not wearing your ring," he murmurs.
"No," I spit. "I pawned it in some shithole town because your goons were hunting me across the country."
It's a lie. He doesn't know that.
His eyes flash. Hurt first, real and sharp. Then fury, cold and precise. But he reins it in a second later, straightening his shoulders, molding himself back into the image of control.
"I see," he says. "Well, we'll find a replacement. That won't be an issue."
He surveys the group behind me, eyes cool and calculating.
Then, the verdict drops.
"I understand you've made… connections here. I appreciate these people for taking care of you while you were on the run. So, as your future husband, I'll be generous. I'll grant you this: you have until tomorrow at dusk to say your goodbyes. And then you will come with me. Willingly."
He leans in close, his five o'clock shadow scraping lightly against my cheek, his scent—ancient cedar, rain-soaked earth, the faintest trace of myrrh—flooding my senses like it always has. Like a goddamn siren call.
I stop breathing.
"I can see you care about them," he whispers, voice smooth. "It would be a shame if something… happened to them. So I'd advise you not to run, if you want them to stay safe."
A threat. It lands.
I close my eyes, every muscle in my body going rigid with helplessness. My heart pounds against my ribs like it wants out.
Darius straightens and lets me go.
"It was… interesting meeting all of you," he says, turning to the rest.
With a simple nod, his people move—silent, efficient, trained. Back to their blacked-out cars like chess pieces returning to formation.
"I'll see you tomorrow, my beautiful nymph," he says before stepping into the backseat of his sleek vehicle.
Darlene follows, never once looking at me.
Johnny lingers, his eyes flicking to mine, almost apologetic, but the gun in his hand stays steady as he climbs in last.
The engines roar to life.
Tires crunch gravel.
And then… they're gone.
The silence afterward is worse than the chaos. It rings in my ears, heavy and accusing. I turn slowly, facing them, my so-called new beginning, and see only stunned faces.
Even Eira is standing in the doorway now, pale and quiet, her scream still echoing in my bones.
My fists are clenched. My pulse is out of control. I want to say something—anything—but no words come.
Then Kayden's voice slices the silence. "You're engaged to that guy?"
I flinch.
His tone isn't just angry—it sounds betrayed.
Yes, I was.
Still am, I guess.
And now... I have no idea how to make any of this right.