Chapter Fifteen
Chapter
Fifteen
SAGE
My heart pounds violently in my chest as I stumble through unfamiliar corridors, the echoes of my frantic footsteps reverberating off stone walls draped in shadows.
Elegant sconces cast dim, flickering pools of red neon light along dark, winding hallways, illuminating just enough to guide my frantic path forward.
The mansion feels like a maze—grand and opulent, yet menacing in its dimness. Rich velvet curtains hang heavily at every window, blocking any glimpse of escape, every door I try locked tight against me. Panic claws at my throat, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
A noise behind me—a low, dangerous growl—sends terror skittering up my spine. I whirl around, eyes wide in the gloom, but see nothing but shadows stretching across polished marble floors.
I press forward, pushing myself faster, the hem of my emerald gown snagging beneath my heels, nearly tripping me. I yank it up, stumbling forward. Adrenaline surges, mixing with fear and desperation as I turn down another corridor, heart hammering in my ears.
"Sage," a smooth voice calls from the darkness behind me, playful and unsettling. "You can't run forever."
Asher.
My pulse spikes. I quicken my pace, pushing open a heavy wooden door, slipping inside and shutting it quietly behind me. I press my back against the cool wood, breathing heavily as I glance around.
It's a library—massive, shadowed, lined floor to ceiling with shelves of leather-bound volumes, the scent of aged paper heavy in the air. Normally, this place would feel like sanctuary, but tonight it's oppressive, a prison of leather-bound walls.
Footsteps echo closer, calm and unhurried.
"Come out, sweetheart," Asher taunts gently. "I promise I'll make it worth your while."
I press deeper into the shadows, eyes darting desperately around for a way out. My pulse thuds painfully, panic rising. He's getting closer.
Another voice—cold, authoritative. Gideon. "Careful, Asher. Remember what she did to Malachi."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten," Asher drawls. "That's what makes this fun."
My breath hitches. I press my back tightly against the bookshelves, willing myself to disappear among the shadows and ink.
The door swings open, soft light spilling into the library. I see their silhouettes, two broad figures entering silently, stalking forward slowly, predators tracking their prey. My pulse spikes. There's nowhere left to run.
"She's here," Gideon murmurs quietly, his voice edged with sharp intensity. "I can sense her."
"Of course she is," Asher replies, sounding amused. "She's clever. Libraries are her natural habitat."
The footsteps draw closer. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling power simmering inside me, hot and insistent, a force I barely understand. It feels alive, ready, protective.
"There you are," Asher breathes suddenly, and my eyes snap open as he emerges mere feet away. His hazel gaze locks onto mine, his mouth curved in an arrogant smile.
"Stay away," I whisper, voice trembling despite my attempt at strength.
His smile widens, dangerous and charming all at once. "But we've barely gotten to know each other, Sage."
Instinct flares within me, desperate, raw. Without thinking, I thrust my hand out. Power explodes from me, fierce and bright, sending books flying from shelves and forcing Asher backward with a grunt of surprise. Gideon braces himself, narrowly avoiding the blast, eyes widening.
I don't wait. I sprint past them, ignoring their startled shouts, bolting through the open door into another corridor. My heels echo loudly as I run, breaths ragged, chest aching with exertion.
I skid to a stop at the end of the corridor, heart dropping when I find only a massive, ornate window. Behind me, their voices rise again, closer now, hungry.
Desperation claws at me. There's no other choice.
I wrench the window open, frigid night air washing over my flushed skin. The gardens sprawl far below, shadowy and uncertain in the dim moonlight. For a single heartbeat, doubt twists my stomach. It's too far down. I don't know if I'll make the leap.
Then I hear footsteps approaching behind me, and fear ignites into resolve. I begin to stand on the sill, and that's when I hear it.
"Sage?"
I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs. "Elias?"
He steps forward slowly, the flickering light catching his glasses, eyes calm but alert behind the lenses. His usual air of scholarly detachment is still there, but his expression is softer now, warmer. "Please, come down from there."
I hold on tight to the window frame, wary eyes searching his face. "Stay back."
He raises his hands slowly, palms out. "I'm not going to hurt you, Sage."
I shake my head, pulse hammering in my throat. "Why should I believe you? You're with them—you tried to bid on me."
Elias lowers his hands but makes no further move toward me. He's careful, deliberate. "I did," he admits quietly, "but that was to protect you."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Protect me? That's what Malachi claimed too, and look how that turned out."
His expression tightens, concern flickering briefly across his features. "Malachi has complicated motivations—but he won't harm you. Not intentionally."
"Not intentionally?" I echo incredulously. "Did you not see what just happened back there?"
"I did," Elias says calmly, brown eyes watching me intently from behind his glasses.
He adjusts them absently, the gesture oddly comforting—familiar.
Normal, even, as if we were discussing a rare manuscript back at the library.
"But believe me when I say Malachi wouldn't risk so much for mere cruelty.
You mean something to him. To each of us it seems, actually. "
I laugh sharply, harsh and bitter. "I don't even know what you people are."
"Warlocks," Elias says softly, taking a careful step closer. His voice stays even, soothing. "You've already sensed that much. We draw power from others. But you..." He pauses, brows knitting together as if still figuring out exactly how to explain. "You're something different."
"Different?" My voice cracks on the word. "I don't know what's happening to me."
"Neither do we." He hesitates, cautious. "I can sense the magic awakening in you. Can't you feel it?"
"I don't want any of this," I say, my voice breaking slightly, fear and confusion warring inside me. "I just want to go home."
He tilts his head gently, sympathy flickering in his eyes. "I wish it were that simple. But what you did back there—it caught everyone's attention. You revealed power that shouldn't even exist anymore. And that makes you very dangerous—and incredibly valuable."
"Valuable," I repeat, bitterness seeping into my voice. "Is that all I am now? Another piece of merchandise?"
"No," he says firmly, eyes darkening. "Not to me."
"And why should I believe you?"
He takes another cautious step forward, the candlelight catching the edges of his glasses.
His voice is quiet but firm. "Because I didn't come here to claim you, Sage.
I came because I felt something about you that goes far beyond this Ritual.
Your mind, your strength, your love of the things that truly matter—books, stories, knowledge.
There's more to you than you realize, and I want nothing more than to understand it. "
His words catch me off guard. I study his expression carefully, looking for any hint of deception, any sign he's manipulating me. But all I see in Elias is sincerity, a careful honesty that makes something in me want desperately to trust him.
"You really don't want to hurt me?" My voice sounds small, vulnerable.
"Never," Elias says softly. "I only want to help you understand who you are—what you are. I think we both want the same thing."
"And what's that?" I ask warily.
"To understand the truth behind all of this," Elias replies gently. "Because I believe, deep down, we're both seekers of knowledge. And whatever secrets lie at your core could change everything."
He offers his hand cautiously, a quiet invitation rather than a demand. I stare at it, conflicted, my heart racing with indecision. But there's something steadying about Elias, something familiar, safe even, beneath the tension of the night.
Slowly, hesitantly, I reach toward him, my fingers trembling as I close the distance. I all but fall into him as he pulls me from the open window.
"Sage!"
My heart jolts at the sound—Malachi's voice, harsh, commanding, edged with anger.
I spin around just in time to see Malachi stalking toward us down the hall, Gideon at his side, both looking deadly, furious, and ready for violence.
Elias straightens, expression tightening with sudden tension. He shifts protectively closer, positioning himself subtly between me and them.
"Step away from her, Elias," Malachi growls, his voice low and lethal. "Now."
Elias meets his gaze evenly. "She's terrified. She doesn't trust you. You need to calm down."
"I said," Malachi repeats slowly, voice hardening dangerously, "step away."
"I'm not going anywhere," Elias says coolly, his voice controlled but unyielding. "She's confused. She needs answers, not threats."
Malachi's jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "I won't ask again."
Gideon steps forward, placing a hand firmly on Malachi's shoulder—a quiet warning. "Malachi. Not here."
Malachi exhales sharply, eyes locked on me. He's barely controlled, visibly wrestling with himself. "Sage, come to me now."
I shake my head, voice trembling but defiant. "No. Not until you tell me what's really going on."
He steps toward me again, his body taut with fury, but Elias blocks his path. "Don't make her afraid of you."
"She belongs to me," Malachi snarls, voice rough, barely contained fury simmering beneath his carefully controlled exterior.
"I belong to no one," I say quietly, my voice shaking but strong enough to echo around us.
Malachi's dark gaze flashes dangerously. "That's not how this works, Sage."
His anger ignites something inside me—a spark, raw and uncontrolled. Before I realize what's happening, power gathers beneath my skin again, hot and dangerous, humming like electricity through my veins.
"Don't!" Elias says, and I instinctively pull back. "Your powers, they will draw the others close." He turns to look at Malachi. "We need to move. Now."