Chapter Twelve
Chapter
Twelve
SAGE
My body shudders violently, pleasure surging through me, sharp and electric.
Malachi's fingers continue their relentless rhythm, pushing me higher until everything else fades away—the room, the masked crowd, the Ritual itself.
All that matters now is his touch, the velvet rasp of his voice in my ear, promising things I've never dared imagine.
In this heightened state, something strange begins to stir inside me—a presence deeper than pleasure, more intoxicating than desire. It's as if I'm connected to Malachi, tethered by some invisible thread, drawn to him with an intensity that frightens me even as it exhilarates me.
I gasp his name softly, head falling back, eyes fluttering closed as I lose myself completely.
As the pleasure finally ebbs, my breathing slows, leaving me trembling in the aftermath.
But the connection—whatever strange, magnetic pull I felt—begins to fade, slipping from my grasp like sand through fingers.
I blink, returning to reality, and look up at him.
Malachi watches me intently, eyes narrowed, as if sensing the same strange tether between us.
The ballroom slowly returns to focus around me, and as my senses sharpen, I notice what's happening. My heart lurches, adrenaline flooding my veins as I watch the scene before me.
Across the room, the other women lie in states of blissful surrender, eyes glassy with contentment. Their partners, however, glow subtly, standing taller, eyes sharper, their posture exuding unmistakable power. I squint, trying to make sense of it.
As I look closer, something shifts. My vision sharpens even further, and suddenly I see it clearly—the silvery threads of energy that flow from each woman to the man holding her.
The energy pulses softly, brilliant and ethereal, and as each man absorbs it, he seems to grow stronger, brighter, more vital.
Yet the women appear perfectly content, lost in their satisfied haze, their smiles languid and serene.
"What is this?" I whisper urgently, my voice shaking. I turn to Malachi. "What's happening here?"
Malachi's eyes snap to mine, startled. "You can see that?"
I stare at him, heart pounding. "Yes—what are they doing?"
His expression darkens with confusion and wariness. "You shouldn't be able to see this."
Frustration sparks inside me, my voice rising slightly. "Well, I do. What's going on?"
Malachi takes a slow breath, regaining his composure. "It's the Ritual. The essence they release during climax—it feeds us, strengthens us. They give willingly; we take willingly. No harm is done."
I stare at him, pulse racing, thoughts whirling. "You feed off them?"
"Yes," he answers evenly. "It's an ancient exchange, one of pleasure and power. The women benefit materially and physically. Everyone leaves satisfied."
"And me?" I demand, suddenly uneasy. "You didn't?—"
"I did not," he confirms, voice low and heavy. "Not yet."
Something in his tone makes my pulse quicken. "Why not?"
He leans closer, his voice dipping into something dangerously intimate. "Because, Sage, I think I'd like to savor you more than a quick fuck."
Heat floods my cheeks, my mouth dropping open in stunned silence. Before I can recover, Malachi straightens, gaze returning to the scene before us.
"No," I whisper sharply, shaking my head. "I'm not doing this."
He looks at me sharply, eyes darkening. "You don't have a choice. You belong to me now."
"No," I snap defiantly, rising from my seat, trembling but determined. "I will not!"
His jaw clenches, and he reaches for my arm. "Sage, enough?—"
The moment he touches me, something inside me snaps. Energy surges from deep within my core, erupting outward in a burst I cannot control. Malachi is thrown back several feet, stumbling, shock etched clearly across his features.
A stunned silence falls over the room. Every head turns toward me, expressions masked but clearly astonished. I look down at my trembling hands, panic twisting tight in my chest.
"Impossible," Malachi breathes, eyes wide with disbelief.
I stumble backward, heart pounding painfully in my chest, terror rising sharp and hot. The silence around me shifts into something more sinister, hungry, predatory.
And suddenly, I understand: I'm no longer invisible.
I'm exposed, vulnerable.
Powerful.
The realization terrifies me. Without thinking, I turn and bolt from the ballroom, heart hammering in my ears as I flee into the shadows, knowing instinctively they'll follow.
And that I may never escape again.